The young Frenchman may never have heard of the place before.
“And brought despatches to General Putnam from Brother Jonathan.
“May I ask what were these words of the French mountaineers who are just like us—‘Auvergne sans tache’? I wonder if this poor head can carry those words back to Lebanon green—Ovan-saan-tarche! The words ring true, like a bell that rings for the future. I somehow feel that I will hear them again somewhere. Ovan-saan-tarche, Ovan-saan-tarche! I will go now. I must tell the Governor and all the people about it on the green—Ovan-saan-tarche! What shall I tell the people of the cedars?”
“Tell the people of the cedars that there is a young French officer in the camp here that thinks that he carries in his heart a secret that will give liberty to America; that aid will come from a district in France that grows men like the cedars.”
Now the secret of Lafayette haunted the mind of Dennis.
“A spandy-dandy boy told me something strange,” said he to the Governor, on his return. “He was a Frenchman, with a shelving forehead and red hair, and Washington seemed to be hugging his company, as it were; the General saw something in him that others did not see. I think he has what you would call a discerning of spirits. I thought I saw the same thing.”
“Washington, it is likely, relies on this officer, because the young Frenchman believes in him and in the cause,” said the Governor. “Washington is human, and he must have a lonesome heart, and he must like to have near him those who believe in him and in the cause. That is natural.”
There was to be a corn-roast in the cedars—a popular gathering where green corn was roasted on the ear by a great fire and distributed among the people.
Had Lebanon been nearer the sea there would have been a clambake, as the occasion of bringing together the people, instead of a corn-roast.