For a moment they remained in ranks, as though stupefied. It was Cowan
who stepped out first, snatched his coonskin hat from his head, and waved
it in the air.

"Huzzay for Colonel Clark!" he roared. "I'll foller him into Canady, and
stand up to my lick log."

They surrounded Bill Cowan, not the twenty which had flocked to him in
the morning, but four times twenty, and they marched in a body to the
commandant's house to be reenlisted. The Colonel stood by the door, and
there came a light in his eyes as he regarded us. They cheered him
again.

"Thank you, lads," he said; "remember, we may have to whistle for our
pay."

"Damn the pay!" cried Bill Cowan, and we echoed the sentiment.

"We'll see what can be done about land grants," said the Colonel, and he
turned away.

At dusk that evening I sat on the back door-step, by the orchard,
cleaning his rifle. The sound of steps came from the little passage
behind me, and a hand was on my head.

"Davee," said a voice (it was Monsieur Vigo's), "do you know what is un
coup d'e'tat?"

"No, sir."