She told how the little marquis loved to walk behind the brave soldiers of the day, the one ambition of his life being his longing to be a soldier. She told, too, of his life in the lonely castle among the southern mountains of France, where his only companions were governesses and masters, all intent upon drilling him to dance, to bow with courtly grace, to pick up a lady’s handkerchief, and other accomplishments of the court.
After leaving the College du Plessis, where his education as a courtier was completed, he returned to his estate, now the heir to great wealth, where he used to spend his time making friends with the peasants,—the people who lived on his lands,—thus becoming acquainted with their mode of life. In this way he learned the need of liberty, the liberty that gave people the right to think and feel, and to express their thoughts and feelings, and the great need that the people of the nations in the world should have a voice in their own government, and thus learn to govern themselves.
Nathalie then told how, when the patriots of America began to fight against King George in order to gain their rights, that the young nobleman, now tall and slender, with reddish hair and bright eyes, heard of it, and, although an officer in the French army, he determined to go to America and help these people of the colonies to win their liberty. He had a young and lovely wife,—they had been sweethearts when children,—and yet so inspired was he to help the Americans that he left her. With a friend, the Baron de Kalb, he eluded the spies and officers of his own country, and in various disguises finally reached Spain, whence he embarked for America, and gallantly fought with the American patriots during the War of the Revolution, winning fame not only for his bravery, but for his great friendship for Washington.
“Indeed,” said the girl, as she finished her recital, he was a real Son of Liberty, and it is a splendid thing to think that these two grand old mountains, facing each other in such magnificent grandeur, should now be the monuments to these two wonderful men, monuments, too, that can only perish when the mountains turn and flee away at the command of the Most High God.
“Lincoln, whose life-story you know,” Nathalie pointed to the green-wooded heights of Mount Lincoln, “also proved himself a Son of Liberty when he gave of the noblest and best that was in him to the people, in his great struggle to free the slaves. In fact,” the girl spoke a little sadly, “this great man was not only a Son of Liberty, but he was a martyr to Liberty.” And then she told how he had lost his life because of his heroic determination to do what he thought was right.
“Children,” cried the girl suddenly, facing the row of intent, eager faces regarding her, “can any of you tell me who to-day are proving themselves true Sons of Liberty?”
“The soldiers who are fighting in the trenches!” burst from Danny quickly.
Before Nathalie could assent, a thin, quavering voice burst out with the ringing cry, “Vive la Belgique! Vive la Belgique!”
“Good for you, Jean,” cried the girl, as she enthusiastically clapped her hands in approval. “It is long live Belgium. Yes, Jean, the soldiers of Belgium, of France, England, and America, too, now, are proving themselves Sons of Liberty, because they are all fighting to give liberty to the world. And brave Belgium,” patting the shoulder of the refugee, whose pale face was strangely illumined, “every man in that little country has proved that he is a Son of Liberty, when, rather than dishonor the great principles of liberty and justice, he took up arms and defended it against the Germans when they made their mad rush to Paris. They not only saved France, but every nation as well, saved it so that each man in it could fight and thus give liberty to the world. Now, children, let us cry with Jean, ‘Vive la Belgique.’”
When this cry ceased, Tony’s velvety black eyes, with a sly gleam of humor lurking in their shadows, became scarlet flames, suddenly remembering that his native land was also in the war, and, with dramatic fervor, he yelled, “Viva l’Italia!”