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b' eadZe v Hflams. 9311,?)71'8'7167‘8
Vol.XV. “112:2:ka GB (? ~ ’

Ten Cents a. Copy.
98 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y., July 5. 1832. 85.00 a Year. N 0° 1

THE MAN  or, THE GHOST OF THE OLD GUARD.

A STORY OF THE BURNING 0P MOSCOW.

 

 

 

BY CAPT. FREDERICK WHITTAKER,

AUTHOR or “ leo, 1mm 03- mn numrs,” “ mm Rfmmxcn," “ma: RUSSIAN SPY,” “THE mm mm,” “m 1mm 0mm,”
“Dunn’s HEAD CUI‘RASSIEBS,” “PHANTOM KNIGHTS,” ETC., ETC.

 

'19

 

\\

km: \
\ 
£33}:

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“FRIEDLAND! uovsnxl 11mm!” snowman THE EMPEROR. “smzn THAT—THING!”

In},
\

 

2

The Man in Red.

 

7:1... Man in Red 

The Ghost of the Old Guard.

A Itery of the turning of Moscow.

 

I . BY CAPT. FRED. 'WHITTAKER,

AUTHOR or “ nnarn’s HEAD curaassmns,”
“PHANTOM KNIGHTS,” ETC., arc.

 

CHAPTER I.‘
run MAN IN RED.

CRAan in the bosom of the hills, lies a lit-
”; spring, from which trickles a stream of
Water too feeble to float the smallest boat or
m the humblest mill.

, ’  thread of siIVer, it winds in and out

ongthe daisies and violets of early spring,
w the snows are, beginning to melt on J ung-
frau and Wetterhorn.
V .Yet'it gurgles along as musically as Strauss’s
. Waltz; and, the ebb’ and flow of the
‘ , ‘ never fails to bring to mind the baby
river Danube.

On goes the t'ny stream, glittering in the
sunli ht, till it bears another, another, and yet
anot er callin to it and hurrying down to
meet it from t e Swabian Alps like children
afraid to be left alone.

They join together and dash on, laughing,

and the baby rivulet has become a rushin , im-
petuous stream, that goes careering on, fike a
colt let loose in the meadows in s ringtime.
'  rise the towers o Ulm; a little
man.- on the roarin ,Lech comes tearing
down from the Tyrol togoin it at Donawertle,
and the blue Danube has becom a river.

On it sweeps fpast 'lngolstad’ and Ratisbon
and hundreds o t0wns and villages, till the
black Iser flows in at Straubing, and the
mightiest of all—the rushing Inn—j ~ins its
waters at Passau.

Now we can say indeed we have seen a river
fitfor kin? to sail on, and we float own the
beautiful, lue Danube,till before us rise the
historic walls of Vienna.

There is the nd tower of St. Stephen’s: there
stand the pa cos of the haughty HapsburgS'
thereis the home of Mozart, Beethoven, an
many another lord of the world of music, and
on the bridges is the glitter of bayonets.

But what is yonder flag that floats from the
towers of Schonbrunnl It does not show the
white field and black eagle of Austria.

No, b heavens! it is the tricolor with its
broad f0 ds of red, white and blue. The French
are is Vienna! '

Yes, the French are in Vienna, and far he-

  
  
 
  

low the 4 , on the banks of the Danube and
coverin ,island of Lohau from end to end
arel 1» _ of tents. banks of earth, dotted
with , on, while the music of a hundred

F 0“ tbs! evenin air.th
ran on arms rein estreets of Vi -
French hussars dash to and enna'
F  hmartillerymen on the island of

 
  
 
  
     
     

  
  

     
    

 

- ..  grimly over their.  my,
g the Austrians, and, ‘3‘ ‘  ' “ 3“
1- -‘ r the lmperialGdardh'i“ “’ "W‘-

V , torest on the side of
' coma out in the hot, sultry nigl‘t

{:dthefijhflniy 1800.

 Fara. ' ynver the ocean, in another land,.the

fight-are burstin into stars, and the bonfires
 to cele rate the birthday of a. na-

tion desti ,. to throw all the rlories 0! old

Rome and imperial France intot e-sha'de: but

around Vienna all is quiet on the night of the

h of July, 1809. '

«.‘The bands have ceased to play, one after an-
other; the camp-fires have died into a
soldiers, wra pad in their gray capo" 
sleeping by he fires: the long lines o opp.
homes munch their hay by the picket ropestythe
sontries paca silently up and down like shad0ws,
and over all the stars 00k down with thesame

sinuses calm With which they have beheld
fic’man, German, Hun, Goth, Vandal, Turk and
Gen], strivmg for the mastery of. Vienna in the
thousands of years that have’ “ ” his?!” it." '
In the midst of the camp a it!” m 3,.
due save one, the great marquee around‘ which
1 the Old Guard sleeps. '

This stands like a beacon in ‘the "midstof the, " '

army, and one may see figures oln and com-
ingztill a late hour. g ‘

very new and then comes'a clanking and? ' 

rattling in the outer darkness, ll'an’oflcer
ridea of! with dispatches, and there 1. l' 
buzz of conversation, inside and out: ., ,3 -

The night wears on. and thefigures 
go lees’frequently, an at hat a enhance-{in
generals uniform, comes out-of the tent and
gays in slow voice:

“Admit no more to-night, sentry. His maj-
esty wishes to sleep."

“ Very good, my general,” answers the grim
old sentry. Then he marches up and down on

fro with orders; . I  
Laban. ~ 

 round one grand ma “u. '11“  
1 the great Naporlqeon lod . ,  ~
I fiance,

. H59 

 

his lonely post, while the general goes into the
tents, and the lights are extinguished in the
huge marquee.

t the rear of this marquee, which serves as
an antechamber thereto, are two other tents.
and in the furthest a lamp still burns, and will
burn all night.

The segtry paces up and down, and looks at
the distant lights of Vienna and the few dull
red lanterns which mark the lace of the bat-
teries by the river shore. He eels the contrast
of the silence to the bustle of the day, and
mutters:

“ Pesto! I wish it were over, this accursed
lying still. W'e’ve beaten these Austrians so
often that it doesn’t seem natural for the Guard
to be lying behind 'works.”

Then he hears the great clock of St. Stephen’s
Cathedral toll out the hour of twelve, and halts
to listen.

The deep, solemn tones of the hell that boom
somournfully down the valley of the Danube
have their influence even on the grizzled vet-
eran of Lodi and Marengo. He stands still and
crosses himself involuntarily, muttering, for
the first time in years, the prayers he was
taught when Louis the Martyr was king of
France and the old soldier was a boy.

One by one the strokes boom out, and .the
tremulous air repeats them in a dying cadence,
inexpressibly solemn.

And just then. at the last strike of the mid-
night hour, a cold wind fans the face of the mo-
tionless' sentry, and something fiits past him,
noiselessly, toward the mar uee.

What it is he cannot tell; ut the cold sweat
bursts out on his forehead as he catches up his
musket, and hoarsely challenges:

" Qui ra la!”

Then he rubs his eyes. There is nothing
there, and he begins to think he must have been
asleep on his post and dreamed it.

Presently, within the marquee, he hears the
startled exclamation:

“ Qui rient 3’” [Who comes?)

The aide-decam whohad thrown himself,
dressed, on a mug bed, to watch beside the
engeror, springs up with a pistol in his hand.

e sees the of a man in the dark
marquee, faintly isible by the light that shines
through the canvas of the inner tent.

The man seems to be tall and thin, and is
dressed entirely in red2 with a face of ghastly
white and a on pointed mustache and chin
heard of black. go much he can see: also that
the man has brilliant black eyes; then he calls
out menacingly:

“ Who are you?"

Clickl clack! ‘

The long pistol is cocked, and the oflcer says
a third time: ,

“ Who are you!”

And then, to his intense amazement, the red

figur ,. m him to fire and advances straight
tow , r . .
Thee advances to eject the bold in-

trades-Jeri” does not like to fire on an un-
armedinan, when The Man in Red, silently as a
ghost, adorns to vanish into thin air against a
red—Mn " s’cloak that hangs on the tent-pole, and
' tchful officer lays his hand on it

, I , he matters:
 . “Deluge do Fricdland, you

1' f j' Stras

       
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

, urg pie after ten at
" amust have been dreaming.
bed his majesty by 1113'

s to his couch, and yet

it. They come from
e Count of Friedland,

  Ifnstructed sentgl.”
» himself, ind to dif hebe

= , skit.” ,
, , .  softly 
I the door;   ' "
Roms the W "3’,- l 3f p, U ‘- ‘on his
bratyithh his folded arms, one harm-maxed
in half-closed over a pistol butt, his dark,
beahfiqdface peaceful in repose.

The aide-decamp looks down. -

“I t " ‘ t it must be he,” he mutters.
‘ Basqfl *there are Voices .in the inner tent,
 them, is the voice of the emperor

   and

 

    

do see on,,thetent wall the grand out~
.  ,mt head. so famous throughout Euro
'  . _‘c beauty of outline; andopposi
. ‘  ; (lbw-hm, Which reminds him of
W ' 4 ,pictures 91 the Evil One.
A ' l 3 '- 10138 Pointed nose and chin: the
', ,ed mustache; the close cap, with
‘ horns, and a high pitched, sneer-

ihg was. is mi“ 3, while the spiky mustache
‘ D

t
In an .

if? gawk ‘you have made yourself.” says
 voice, mock ugly. “ Hol ho! It is like all
of you. I tell you it is time for you to turn
back. You hav‘é‘come too far east.’

“I have been further east before," answers

     
   

I

 

' ion disturbs him. He 

r of the French. says ’

 

the calm voice of the em hint; “and never
failed to beat my toes. As or you, Ihaveonly
to raise my voice to have you stripped of your
dis ise and’exposed.” '

he listener in the outer tent hears the same
mocking laugh. ‘

“ Ho! ho! try it. You boast that you'are the
first man in Europe A continent trembles at
your nod. But i fear you not. Ho! ho! I am
your master. I made you. Ho! ho!”

Convinced that some madman has stolen into
the tent. the aide~de-camp stirs the slee ing
Mameluke with his foot, and in a moment us-
tan is awake. .

The other signs him to silence and they
noiselessly traverse the tent and lock in. There
sits the emperor by his table, spread with maps,
and on the other side stands a tall, preter-
naturally thin man, dressed in red, in whom the
officer recognizes his vision.

The emperor is paler even than his wont, and
looks up at the corpse-like face, with-its dark,
flaming eyes, as if measuring intellect with in-
tellect, as he replies slowly: .

“ Thou liest. I made myself the first in
Euro , and I will be first in the world, with
no be p from thee.”

The Man in Red smiles. He does not laugh;
but there is a singular tone of triumphant
mockery in his voice, as he answers:

“ Be it so. I took thee. a puny boy in the
walks of Brienne, and have made of thee, step
by step, general, consul. emperor, victor on
fifty fields. Thou hast passed Casar; but I am
thy master. Now hear me. I give thee six years
more. In the seventh thou shalt be chained to
a rock in the midst of the sea, with the vultures
of despair to gnaw thy heart.”

The emperor smiles scornfully.

“Madman, I laugh at thy prophecies. . Who
art thou to tell the futurel’

The Man in Red looks down on him in a sin-
gular way. His eyes seem to be trying to over-
awe those of the emperor.

“Who I am, thou knowest not,” boss in
his strange, unnatural voice. “I have p aced
thee where thou art, for the sake of a woman.
Thy fate and hers are bound together with
bands that cannot be broken, without breaking
 ’Beware, I know what is in thy heart to-
n t. ’

e emperor shrugs his shoulders.

"I will tell thee at once. I intend to cram
the river and beat those Austrians.”

“ And then?” demands The Man in Red.

“ And then make peace with them, as I have
done before.”

“ And then?” asks The Man in Red.

“And then return to France with another
{lictory to inscribe or my sit:me And have

aster to me canst w
will be tmt’of this bhttlel” ' -'

“Thou said it,” returned The Man in
Red “ Thou shalt return to France‘v'lctos-ious.

‘But'beware. Itwill be thy last decisive vic-

tory. Thy star is in the zenith. From hence-
forth it must wane, till it sinks behind the rock
on the occan.”
the emperor laughs scornfully.
“ incc thou knowest so much, tell me when I
shall next see thee?"
“Thou shalt see me at Fontainebleau. this

time year. After the no more till we
meet mm” , t, ’
For _ 1st time the emperor looks surprised

. .. 3
‘ _ oscowl I‘have no thought of oin

ut be it so. I me take a tangy tg
,lilussia, ard if I do, sure I will go to

Then the two listeners see a leer of evil im-
rt contort the demoniac face of The Man in
ed. as he ansWers: '

“Thou shalt go to Moscow, but beware of
the Russian bear. He lives in the snow and
makes his lair in the ice-caves. All thy fires
shall be quenched before the snow-drifts of the
step s. Farewell!”

“ ot so fast,” returns the emperor, in hi§ 01d
scornful tones. “ I have listened to the patient,-
ly. Now cast aside this mummery and tell me
who thou art, and how thou cement here. “

“Ho! ho!" retorts The Man in" Red- Ho!
ho! fie asks who I am!”

f And lllie laughs in tritium:th way as be-
or ti the em ror es 0 '1

‘Fll‘fiedlandl oustanl Here!” shouted the

em rm

   
 
   

“ Seize that—thing!”

0 listeners only wanted for the WCI'd, and
they dash aside the curtain and rush to grasp
the intruder who stands on the opposite side of
the tab“. Theynthmk they have him.
~. In chatsame stunt the amponthe table is
blown out; they hear a slight noise in the cor-

5‘“! seat: and grasp nothing.
mm in Red has vanished.
Theirs is a short search, inside the tent and
the“ out}, but no traces are found d the mid-
night visitor. Finally the emperor 9’5 00m-

“ It is. some madman and they are 71017 cun-
nlins. ” Light the lamp hgain, and 1“ us try to
s eep.

And silence rests over the tent again.

In the dawn of morning the aide-de-cam
looks into the inner tent, and sees the calm, e

MP...“ ... .

I

 

‘1:
face of the emperor, who is sleeping like achild.
He whispers to Roustan:

“ Have on ever seen The Man in Red before
last nightly"

Roustan nods gravely.

" He came first the night before the corona-
tion. He came before Ansterlitrx he came be-
fore Jena; he came at Tilsit. We have never
yet caught him.”

 

CHAPTER II.
FONTAINEBLEAU.

THE battle of Wagram was over; the Aus-
trian es is bad drooped his wings for the third
time, an the Emperor of the French was un-
disputably the first man in Europe. The win-
ter of 1809 had passed away. and with it a
great chan 9 came over Paris and France.

0n the 1 th of December, the Emperor of the
French and the Empress Josephine were
divorced by mutual consent; and, a few weeks
afterward, amid the boom of cannon, a new
empress entered Paris, the daughter of the
Ha burgs.

he spring of 1810 passed away, and the sum-
mer ed with peace brooding over France,
and urope tranquil.

The Spaniards were troublesome, to be sure,
and the English held the seas; but they were
regarded as of small importance, and the
em did not leave his capital. France,
ric , rous and trium hant, was at ace.

It was n these happ ays, when al the
world seemed to be at t e feet of the Man of
Destiny; when successful soldiers were made
counts, dukes and princesi' when Murat was
King of Naples, Davoust Frince of Eckmuhl,
Ney Duke of Elohingen; J h and Innis

BonaparteKi of S in and olland- when
all . m spa; a new dynast‘y '1‘-
ma ’ ' establ in France, that a at e-

man, who was riding from the forest 0 Fon-
tainebleau toward the palace, followed by a
mounted servant, suddenly checked his horse
and ejaculated:

“ By heavens, I had fer otten.”

It was a handsome gen leman, in a rich and
plumesqu dress, half military, but belonging
to as an: of the service.

An expert in matters of ceremonial at the
French court would have interpreted his uni-
form at once. It belonged the previous cen-
tury, with its velvet neat, skirted and
heavily laced with aid, its three—cornered hat,
straight sword and ge boots; while the wolf’s
head, on the buttons, and embroidered on the
corners of the saddle-cloth, announced the gen-
tleman to be, in all probability, Grand Louvetier
of the Court—in plain English, Head Wolf-killer
of France. The' once was one of honor and
high pay, with the minimun of duty to be per-
formed- and the learnedln such matters would
have told you that the at Grand Louvetier
—in 1810—was Gahrl Count of Friedland,
General of Cavalry, commanding the Culras—

file ' Guard

And some *‘ at Gabriel who suddenly said,
thatd‘a,asbestogpedhishorse: ~
“By eavens, I ad forgotten.”

He was not speaking to any one in particular-
but his attendant a tall, bony man, with black.

-—‘

eyes and a white mustache, nevertheless
ansWered:

“I can back for it, my general, if you will
tell me w at it is.”

Count Gabriel smiled.

“ It is nothing, Casse Tete. But to-day is the
Fourth of Jully. ’

gaffes Tete ookedlm hiiled. without yin

es, my genera . atgoes m g.

To-morrow night will be the anniversary 'of
Walnut, that is, of the croming. Ah, my
general, we had no chance that dav; the infan-
try had it all to themselves. Even the old
Death’s Heads did not at into-it.” _

The count looked as f he were not in a mood

to attend to his old follower’s reminiscences. -’

He sat brooding, and at last said, abrupt] :
“ Casse Tete, did you ever hear of The
'Red i”

din

Oasse Tete instantly crossed himself, and his I

face fell.

' “ ‘ Han in Red: Eh, my general, but yes.

Tha ' is, nor. directly. I never saw him myself.

You know the cavalry don’t do guard duty.

gutlfnhave heard stories from the grenadiers—
5 .

And then. oldier shook himself as if the
sub act Wore a' intern],
ount Gubrie ad always allowed his confi-

dential servant 3m. Tete. a feat deal of
“be”? in convw» ‘lon. They ha( been irivate
80mm” wgflhe" " wmmny of the amous
Cuirassiers a la Tm. MM, 0,. Denys Heads,
and when Gabriel .
bound, from simple cm. .ssierm be Cm“)t 0' the
Empire and general of cavalry, his old friend,
Casse Tete. had followed him as orderly, an the

' count commanded the regiment in which he

had once done guard duty.

When Gabriel became gleneral he took cm
Tete with him; and after t 0 battle of Wagram,
the old soldier had been discharged the service,
and .was now a. sort of factotum, vho never

iir rose, bound after,

 

 Man. in Red.

left his master, except to actas dry nurse to the
young Count Gabriel, who was exactly one
year old on the day Wagram was fought.

So Casse Tete, when he had shuddered, went
on as if to change the subject;

‘But I don’t wonder your honor remembers
the day; for the little count will be two years
old to-morrow. Eh, but we gave him a fine
salute on his last birthday, my general. Eighty
guns at a salvo, and all shotted too.”

field and the fog well enough. He came out of

the fog on a sudden, when all the men were
1 asleep, just as the last stroke of twelve sounded
‘ from the little church at Pratzen. Le Grenou~
1 ille didn’t see him distinctly, but he heard his
 voice and saw his shadow by the fire. The em-
] peror was sitting in a camp chair, nodding over

 

 

l the embers, all alone, when The Man in Red

But still the count did not seem to care for 1

the reminiscences. He had not moved on yet,
but sat on his horse, slapping his boot With his

riding-whip, and when Cusse Tete had finished, 1

he resumed:

“ These stories, Casse Tete, about The Man in ‘

Red. Tell me what you have heard.” .

Casse Tete hesitated.

“ Indeed, my general, the
These grenadiers are great
take Cognac as if it were Bordeaux, and then
see all sorts of things. Besides, it was onl old
Gavroche, and he’s the worst liar in the irst
Re ment."

‘ And it was old Gavroche told you of this
Man in Red?”

“Well, yes, my general. He was one of
them; but Jean Marie Buvard, whom the boys
call Grenouille [the frog] because he croaks so:
he had a story too.”

“ And what were these stories, Forum?”

Casse Tete stared.

His master had not called him Forton for
many a long year, though that was his real
name.
lation on the muster rolls, but every one
acquiesced in his nickname of Casse Tete [head-
breaker], because it suited his grim, hard hit-
tin nature so well.

'Fherefore, when Count Gabriel said: “ What
were these stories, Forton?” the ex~cuirassier
knew he was in earnest, so he saluted in the old
style and answered: ’ .

“ Gavroche told me that he was on guard
here, in this very place, my general, that is, at
the Palace of Fontainebleau, a few days before
the eorenaion, when the em r came here to
pass one night and that on t at night The Man
n Red came. net at the last stroke of twelve,

hh w shout heading his OW'IO, and

isappeared when Gavroche sent his bayonet

th h the place where the ghost was, a mo-
ment fore.’ '

“ Is that all?” asked the count, as Casse Tete

hesitated

“ No, in general. Gavroche says that the
thing v shed in the direction of the em or’s
room, and he roused the guard, thinkin it some
trick of the Jacobins or Royalists. e could
not leave his post, but the corporal came run-
:ing a’iid followed the direction he had given

im—

“ And what did he find?”

“ Nothing my general, and that is the queer
part of it. Instead of that, comes out the em-
Eeror in a towering passion, asking if the Old

iscnduty,ora lot of green conscripts,
that they can’t .madmen out of hi var
bedchamher. And hesihe orders thegronn a
searched, and no one is to be found.”

are nothing.

And here Casse Tete uneasily. ‘

“ And is that all?” ask count.

“ No, my lgeneral. The rest came to Gav-
roche throng Roustan, the Hamcluke.”

“ And what said he?”

“ Well, in general. Gavroche knew that, if

any knew w at passed, it would be the man
who always sleeps léy the emperor’s door; and
Roustan will take ognac as well as any one,
though he says his religion forbids him to drink
wine. Gavroche got him to join him in a
bottle, and got out of him all he knew."

“And what was that?"

“ He said that he was wakencd by voices,
and found the em ror talkin to The Man in
Red, who looked 1i 0 the Old as himself, what
Roustan calls Eblis, the Prince of Darkness.”

“ Did he hear anythingi” '

" Not much, for just as he woke The, Man in
Red seemed to have angered the em
caught up his sword and shouted to
cut the assassin to pieces.”

“ And Houston 1”

“ Jumped up like a regular Mameluke and

ustan to

3 flow at. the man, when out Went the li hts, and

 

they heard the guards mnniug up. hat was
all, general.”

“ And they never found the man?”
_ "Never, my general. In fact, some say he
is no man at all, but the devil."

“Nonsensel. There is no such thin .” ~

. “ Perha s not. my general. But t are is one

Singular ing about him.” -

‘ And what is that?”

“ No one

in a year.’

“ Is that all you know about him?”

“Not all, my general. Lo Grenouille saw him
on the night beore Austerlitz.”

“ Indeed? Why, the whole . army wps in
hivouac then.” -

“ For all that he came, when there was not a
tent to hide him.” ’

“ Tell me how?”

“ Willingly, my general. You remember the

rinkers. They ,

Hercule Forton had been his appel- '

ror, who '

'Baronde

stood beside him and said to him: ‘ Ho! ho! we
meet again. I told you we should. You have
taken my advice and have me red.’ Then
the emperor said somethingfl5 renouille did
not catch, and The Man in d laughed. ‘ Ho!
he! as proud as ever. You did it all out of
your own brain. But for all that, beware. I
am not to be defied forever. _You have risen
high, but you shall fall low.’ And then the em~
peror called out: ‘ Sentry, shoot this madman,‘
and Gavroche tired, so that he roused every one
near him. But he says he only heard a laugh,
and The n in was gone, no one knew
where.”

Count Gabriel was unled.

“ A strange story, asse Tete. How does this
man netrate the guard?”

“ at is not for me to say, in general.
There are some say he is the de ' , some the
ghost of the Duc d’Enghien, who was shot; but
all agree in one thing. He never comes to the
em ror save on the eve of some great cha ,
an no one has ever seen him who does not
ion to the Guard."

h asse Tete seemed to £sz acgrtaGln pride}:
tespecterasa rtain tote us a
Count Gabriel Fold: slow]8 and in a brown
study toward the palace, inkin over all the
legends and wondering who coul be this mys-
terious visitor.

That it was a ghost or devil he could not be-
lieve: but if it were aman, how could he come
and go with such secrecy in the midst of the
watchful veterans of the Guard? Thinki
over all sorts of explanations, and resolved, _
ever he had a chance. to ferret out the mystery,
he passed through the village and node upto
the palace, in which he had a fine suit of spast-
ments by virtue of his Dulce, and where his
young wife and child were staying.

The rest of the palace was empty, save, for a
few other nsionaries of the court, such *0
leville, Grand Forester, agelic of
the old regime, Madame la Marquise de St.
Jean, sx-Mistrees of the Robes to the ex-emm
and one or two others; for the emperor-gas
away at the Tuileries, and his apartments we"
shut up and deserted.

Count Gabriel was greeted warmly by his

retty black-eyed wife, who held up Gabriel

nnior, with the remark:

“ Bee, monsieur, his eyes are more like mine
every dafi but his hair is the same that of
Captain lancbec, as they used to cal you. It
grows whiter every day, I think. Have ya
heard the news, monsieur?”

3gth? t 1'53" j s - teeming

. s ma esty e no
Fontaiynehleau this summer. when we 
him so much. Madame St. Joan E , , .
late. She had set her heart on asking the new
em ress to give her a ."

‘ You don’t share or eagerness, ma hello, I
ho ,” he answered gravely.

or as filled with tears, and then also“.
ed spit l and stamped her foot. .

“ ! no, no. monsieur. i love theold I
hate the Austrian. It was the Austrian,
Antoinette, that brought woe to Frat twenty
years ago, and this one has come was am
the rights of your poor suffering angel, Jo?-
ine. Ah no, monsieur, I shall never askf a
place with her.” ,

Indeed Gabriel and Ines were faithful, lathe
hourof her serum, to the kind ands-ero-
mistress who had done so much for both d
them, and it‘ wasw ' icd that the emperor
liked them none the ass for it. The pasad
from the gardens into their pleasan rooms.
while Casee Tete ledaway the horses, and
Gabriel had quietly resigned himself to anflher
of those peaceful evenings that seem so dupld
while We enjoy them, ut to which we look
back afterward as having been so truly happ .
when .Casse Tete, who had been treating thye
young count to a. ride on his shoulders round
the garden. came in, with the child fast asleep
in his arms. and said, in by grufl way:

_“ Beg pm don, my general am. madame; but
his majesty has 'ust come in.”

Gabriel eta up instantly and Ines cried:

“You are joking, Cease Tete. em-

. peror?”

Cases Tete stood patiently holding the child.

 

ever seen him but a member of ;
the Guard, and he never comes more than once ‘

r
l
l
l

1

“Indeed no. madame. I could not mistake;
for he passed close to me, and I could ‘not give
him my proper salute, for fear of waking the
young count. And he smiled and said: ‘ Never
mind. Casse Tete. One childlike thatis worth
ten emperors.’ Then he rode on to the great
doors. and I saw the invalids running out to
open for him and let him in."

“ Who was with him!” asked Gabri and”
he spoke he kicked off his slippers and arr-iod-
ly began to dress for duty.

“Only Roustan, my eneral,'and his majes-

? has on his old uni‘form that he were at
usterlits and Wagnm. He looked as ifho'

gs?

4

i

The Ma‘n in Red:

 

 

was thinking of something pleasant; for he -.
smiled as he rode.” |

Gabriel finished his toilet and said to his wife I
as he went out:

“ You may not see me tonight. His majesty
has no escort, and I may have to stand guard
for the nonce.”

She pouted a little, but submitted.

"I wish he would not take these sudden fan- .
cies, or at least let the Governor of Paris know 
beforehand, so that he might send an escort. ‘
But I suppose you must go. A soldier’s wife I
has no rights. ”

He hurried off to the other end of the huge ,
old-fashioned palace, and met Roustan, who i
said to him:

“I was comin for you, Monsieur le Comte.
His majesty wis es to see you.”

Gabriel followed him up the dingy echoing
staircase, so deserted now.

The little squad of invalids that had charge
of the palace had organized a. hasty guard ser- |
vice, and a veteran with a wooden leg was
stumping up and down at the foot of the stair‘
case with his musket as bright as ever.

“ evening, monsieur,” he said as Gabriel
passed. “ His majesty has not even brought a.
cook with him, and we are makin a ragout of
rabbit, down in the kitchen. I 0 he will
excuse us, in memory of old times at arengo.”

“ I fancy he will, Frappelin. Did he say he
was hungry i”

“No. my general, but we know him of old.
He used to be careless in Italy, and I have seen
the time when he was glad to take half my
bread, because he had forgotten to eat all

h .1?

Then Gabriel went up-stairs and found the
emperor in his cabinet alone pacing up and
down the room and looking tboughtfu .

“ Ha, count,” he cried stopping, “ on time, as
of old. Do you remember how you were al-
ways readlyto do anything except get killed,
when I to d you? Seriously I have some work
for on to-night.”

“ know it, your majesty.”

“ How—you know it i”

“Yes, siren I was ridin bomb to—day from
tho W, when I remem red that this was
the .ourth of July.”

7. Yes. Bodid I. [had forgotten
it till I was out on a ride and I said to myself,
I'wfl go to Fontainebleau. It may be this

' will kee his promise and come here

‘ . Iftorlw seethat he doeath escape
so easily.”

"The v thought that crossed my mind,
sire. Shall take measures to catch him?”

‘° Do, count. How many men have out"
“By calling in the forest guards, re, I can
0‘ t anty young, active men gend-
at soldiers. If your majesty hm not
dbed—” -
“ I have not, count. I am tarnished."
“ Then my ,wife shall attend to your majesty
stones.”

And Gabriel left the room to attend to his
duties, as promised.

CHAPTER III.
rm: KAN m are cons sons

my night of the fourth of July. 1810, unlike

t of the previous year, was h ght and clear
‘the fa moon in the sky. At the momen
“Blocks of Paris struck midnight, the moon

shone in the zenith, and the stillness was so in-

' was. that one in the forest might hear the dis-

tant clung.

lot a leaf Inn-ed in the woods and the hares,
rustling among the ferns, s ovar the loft,
andy soil, noiseleoaly as ID to.

' In the midst of the forest lies the little villa e,
a more appanage to the palace, and around t e
ace, t at night, a score of men were lying
Mien about in the bushes, under trees, in grot- I
toes, in all sorts of places, watching with loaded
whines to see if any one would come.

M thy heard the last faint echo of the clocks
in Maris. every man stirred and glared round
him into the moonlight, hoping to discover
something.

They were Gabriel’s louvetiers and the forest
guards waiting for The Man in Red, should he
Mme.

Presently one of them called out in a hoarse
wbis r:

“ 15’: you see anything. Martini”

“ Not I." retorts the man addreued. “ If this
be the time he comes, he’s not coming."

“ Hollo! what’s that!” cries a third, and as
:rzpuks something gray scatters across the

p

n.

The other men laugh.

" Only a rabbit, man.”

" Groc Pierre thought it was the ghost."

“Look how pale he is.”

And then they are silent and watchful a n.
for they hear a footstep on the walk W Oh
they know well, and presently the Count of
Friedland comes by, asking:

“ Well, have you seen anything?”

“ Nothing, onsieur,” is the answer
amen, he’s a eepone. Not a soul has
this way.”

The count went on to the palace, and, as he

“ If it’s

 

entered the open doorway, was challenged by
the wooden-legged invalid.

" Ah! it is you, Monsieur le Comte. I thought
it mi ht be the ghost.”

“ as any thing passed you?”

“ Nothing but the air, monsieur.”

Gabriel went up-stairs. At the top of the
grand staircase he met Casse Tete, who said in
a low voice:

“ Ah! it is you, my general. That I am glad!
I like not this guard duty in these musty old
corridors.”

“ Has any thing passed you?”

“ Not-hing, my general, but I have heard
noises in the wall, and steps pattering all round
one. Parbleu, I do not like this at all. One
cannot see in this cursed dark hole.”

“Pshaw, Casse Tcte, only therats. This is
an old palace, remember.”

“ Rats don’t laugh, my general, and I’ll swear
I heard a laugh a little while ago that might
have come from the devil or one of his imps.
Feel my hand.”

Gabriel found it bathed in SWeat, and said in
surprise:

“ Why, Casse Tete, I believe you are actually
afraid of nothing at all.”

“I am,” was the frank admission. “Give
me anything I can see, my general, and I’ll face
it; but the devil take these dark holes and rats
that laugh.” 2

“ When did you hear this laugh?” asked the
count quickly.

“ Not ten minutes ago, my general. I only
wish I'd dared strike a ight; but it was against
the orders. ”

“ Whence came the laugh i”

“ From behind me, general.”

“ Where were you standing?”

“ Here, my general: lookin down-stairs to
catch a glimpse of the moonlight for a bit of
company. And when I looked round there
was not ing but the bare wall. I prodded it
with my sword, and brought down a lot of
plaster.’ ‘

“ Very well. Remain on your post. If you ‘

vgishnnow to strike a light, you can smoke a
p .

en the count went toward the suit of
rooms occupied by the emperor and found them
li hted up

a the ante-room, Roustan, looking as quiet
and in: ssive as ever, sat on a sof his legs
crossed the old Egyptian fashio an smoked
sedale at a short chibouque that e was never
Wi‘thfi: hi I seed Ro ” asked the

‘ sanyt ngpa , ustani
count of the grave Mameluke. .

Roustau shook his head. .

Then Gabriel went on throu two more
rooms, till he came to the emperor a owncabinct,
where he found the first man in France quietly
reading Ossian.

He looked up and smiled:

“ Well count?”

"Nothing has been seen, sire. One of the
sentries, to be sure, heard a laugh, but that I
13th to be his imagination.”

he emperor tranquilly closed his book.

“ He has been here, after all.”

" Here, sire! Impossible!”

“ So i should have said, had I not seen him
with my own eyes. He was here and he came
through the very door by which you entered.”

“Then there must be secret passages in the
thickness of the walls, of which we do not
kgow,”sire, and this fellow is acquainted with
t em. .

The em ror shrugged his shoulders.

“ Afterlrll, it is but a small matter. . I have a
curiosit toknow who hoi on account of his
very bo ness and skill. I ve a mind tout
Fouche on him, only—"

“Only what sire?”

” only that I fear he is at the bottom of the
trick now, in some way," said the em rcr,
dryly. “ He loves to mystify this Du a of
Otranto. I was foolish to come here. I mi ht
have known— Never mind. Good-mg t,
count.”

And the emperor throw himself back on the
sofa on which he was sitting and closed his
eyes with his usual bruaque disregard of eti-

uette.

q As fnr nwhnni, he did not dare to ask what
The R-:d Man had said. Enough for him that
he had been there, in spite of all the guards.
He was deeply and sincerely mortified at first,
and was about to retire, when the emperor
opened his eyes and said:

"By-the-by. count, it is not necessary to
speak of this to any one."

" No. sire. I have only one consolation."

*' And what is that?”

“ That I have a clew to this man at last."

The emperor looked interested

"How? in 'what way!”

"Your majesty says he came through that
doorway?”

it Yes.”

“ t he did not pass Roustan, who is in the
thl room from this."

“I see. So he must have entered through
(tihe wall of one of them, for they have no side

oors. '

“But the corridor is on one side, arm. 80

 

there is probably a door hidden in one of those.
rooms. he laugh which Casse Tete heard in the
corridor must have come from him, so that we
have found so much about him. He was in
the corridor. How came be there? He did not:
come through the garden or my men would
have seen him in the moonlight. He must haVe
entered therefore by an underground passage
which 0 ened into the palace. »

‘: iVel reasoned, count,” said the emperm .
leililg. "But I know nothing of such a 1);?
sage. ’

“Nor I, sire; but if such a passage exists——
and it is more than prol able it does—the only
people likely to know anything about it would

e members of the old court. whose families.
have lived here since it was built three hun-
dred years ago.”

The emperor looked thoughtful.

“You think it is some Cbouan, then?”

“ I do. sire. It is strange that the soldiers of
the Guard say that it is the ghost of the Duke
of Enghien.”

The emperor’s face clouded.

“ Who says so?”

“A mere rumor, sire.”

“An absurd one, count, most absurd. The
Duke of Enghien was a fair, rather stout oung
man, this is a tall, cadaverous creature, t inner
than even our Casse Tete. If I thought some
one were p aying the fool at my expense, mas-
queradin as the dead duke, I would-—”

He bro e 03, and said, after a pause:

“ Besides, I fancy he is only a madman, He-
does not attempt to harm me, though I have a:
pair of pistols ready for him if he does. He
only vents/his spleen in to hecies. What do
you suppose he said to—ni’ggtlg ‘

“ I cannot fancy, sire.’

The em ror smiled.

“ He to d me again that he would meet me at
Moscow, and warned me that I had only ten
years more to live, of which five should be

in prison.”

Gabriel could not help a laugh.

“ The man is a wild lunatic, sire; but I will
find him out yet, if your majesty gives me
leave to try.”

“ Try and welcome. I may make a dab; of
you, if you do it soon.” “

 

CHAPTER IV.
A mar snow. 11! runs.

Tin: streets of Paris were all aglittcr with
lamps, and the trees on the Boulevards were
hung with Chinese lanterns, while the crowds
that crushed to and fro showed that a public
holiday was on foot.

Fireworks were goin

off, u I
ba'nds pla lug, lemon 8 a boom!“ ’

men c ing an

wares, ch dren screami for th othe

mothers for their childr‘elg, lost 6 than”?

and over all. in the gardens of‘the mg;

up a grand fiery legend, that read: '
WAGRAM.

It was the night of the fifth of Jul , and they
were celebrating the anniversary 0 the battle,
which had, for one result, the gift of a new
empress to France.

In the midst of the crowd that glued on the
fireworks and moved about among the people
were two tall shabbily-dreued men, one of
whom mi ht have been handsome but for ‘
black patc over his right 0 a, wh e the other
was rendered as grim an ugly as, it w”

ible to be, by two huge scars, that named
in face on each side of the nose, and parted the
line of his long white mustache.

The went sidling about among the crowd a,
if loo ing for some one. and the Icarred nun
presently whispered:

“There‘s nota man in the crowd as m] a.
ourselves. my general. He is not here.”

“Don’t be impatient,” was the answer of the
man with the patch over his eye. “ It takes
time to find out anything in such a crowd. Any
time you see a tall man, get near him. 1 mm
kncfiothe’ face tnatuonoo." h "

‘ re I a m ere, re med
Tote. “Standing by t o chestnut?“ bnyiu
a measure of hot ones. Ho’s tall , in .
coi’icienecg'” (1 th h t d

‘ my 9 roug e crow tow
tall man w 0 was bargai ng for the chafing:
and found, when the got near that he was a
supper, with a beard ike that o a bull bmalo
and a voice of such uderous base, that Count
Gabriel had to two her a laugh as the copper
grov'vi‘led to thextiuéid liittle chestnut woman:

“ hree sous me one heavens! usan
thundersl Thousand bomhkheflsl Tho d
much for a half-pint of clv ' ' uts! You are an
extortionate old usurer. the Evil One will
catch your soul and fr for your avaricioul
dealins- DOJOu not rem-ct that I am a r
soldier “1&5 lives on two sou. . (1". M t
you are rolling in riches?"

“Raong in riches! oh,mon Dieui” timidly
bleated the little chestnut woman looking up
at the huge bulk of the upper. “ 1 mon-
sleur. give me my three sons.” ‘

“ Here the" are, accuraod Jewess. blood-
sucker of the 'oulevards, with thy stockings at
home bursting with gold. Here they are.

ltistoo'

9i!) mcra'fiu air-«es -

. L‘le ..

< 4
4“

I!

&

i

.
,
t
a
x
l

 

 

 

Think of it! Three sons for such miserable
.chestnuts, and half-roasted at that l”

Then his sonorcus growl was broken by
crunching, as he slouched away, leaving the lit-
tle chestnut woman shoving the disputed three
sons down in an old stocking foot that she used
.er a purse, and murmuring to herself:

“ But I made him give it me, old rogue of the
man: art! I am no fool, me.”

i “ t is evident, my general.” said Cases Tete,
adrny “ that the sapper is not a ghost, nor does
he 100 like one."

Gabriel nodded absently. The had come
out, as he began to think, on a ool’s errand

hunting a needle in a haystack; but be h
taken a fancy into his head that he should find
'the original of The Man in Red somewhere in
.Puris, and he rightl reasoned that, if such a
[man existed, he won d be likel to hide himself
zin the largest crowd he could ad.

He and Casse‘Tete, disguised in the oldest and
shabbiest clothes they could find, had been wan-
dering about in the throngs all the evening,
looking for every head that rose above the
crowds of little men of Paris.

Every time they saw a tall man they edged
up near him; but only to meet disap intment.
.Nawhere could Gab el find the pa a face for
which he was searching, with its fierce dark
eyes and spiky mustache.

So they passed away from the gardens of the
Tnileries, out of sight of the legend of Wagram,
and wandered out on the Boulevards, where
the clink of spoons and glasses was incessant,
and where peo 1e were sitting out on the side-
walks under t a colored lanterns, eating ices
and sipping sugared water, in French fashion.

They passed along here rather more quickly,
for people looked askance at their shabby
nclothes, and, even in disguise, one does not like
ito be sneered at.

When the were approaching the last of these
-open-airoa as, they began to meet people com~

ing in from the op 'te direction, at all were
short. Nota gian towsred above th crowd.
'They were all commonplace-looking people,
come from seeing the fireworks, to drink su-
“gated water and eat ices.

Yet it was in the midst of this crowd that
(30th Gabriel encountered some one who knew
him, spite of his disguise, one of two short gen-
'tlemen who came along arm in-arm, swinging
tueir canes and chatting.

One of them was a thin dried-u man, with a
foxy face and a furtiva smile, w olooked like
a money-lender and who was none other, as
Gihriel knew when he set eges on him than
the dreaded Fouche, Duke of tranto, and chief
of the secret police.

The other man was short and stout, with
light curly hair, little side-whiskers, reddish in
hue, while his dress was that of a rich provin-
vcial farmer, come to Paris for a frolic. in a
white coat and top-boots, a broad straw hat
and a voluminous white waist-coat.

The only thing that militated against his
being a farmer was the fact that is hands
were very small and w to, and that when he
spoke his voice had the ndescribable accent of
..a man who has been well educated.

And it was this individual who, as soon as be
'met Count Gabriel, ran his arm into that of the
youn man, and said in a low estin’g tone:

“ hat ails thee, gros mouc rd [spy Thou
art open as day and knowest no one. t us
turn and walk back. And Casse Tote, too!
Parbleu, my friend. Stick to thy wolves and
rcuiramiers. Thou wert never meant to ferret out
mysteries."

And Gabriel could not help a scarlet flush at
the way in which he had been detected; far it
was only by his voice and a peculiar pinch of
his arm that he had been able to recognise the
em ror himself.

at he knew that it was a foyerite pastime of
the first man in Europe to stroll out in the
evenin among the people, after the fashion
set by Earoun al Raschid in former ages; and
it was only because he was looking for a tall
man that he be overlooked his master.

The dis 0 ror wheeled him round
and they resumed t eir march in the direction
from which Gabriel had just come. Tote
had fallen behind and the sly Fouche was strol-
,ling by his side in the stream of promenaders,
whe some one called out from a table:

“ la! Augustel The two ragamumns have
‘found their lambs at last. Go back to thy pas-
‘ture, fat thee of the country, or the long wolf
'will pick thy es,”

The emperor shook with suppressed but
hearty laughter as be walked on.

“ Do 0“ know. my dear count, what we are
taken or?” he Whispered presently. " They
imagine you are the decoy of some gambling
house. and that I am the victim. See whata
difference there is in men. I tell you, count,

on are not fit to find out mysteriag, Your
re nnot be hidden: and as for Cease Tate,
he loo s too like Don Quixote de la Manchu to

‘be sent out on such an expedition. See yonder.

,‘Bere comes a gsndarme. He will look on you

-as a clone character. I reallyshall have

to leave you, I fear.”

And just at that moment the gendarma who
gppm“ mm halted, looked. at Gabriel in

 

his sternest way, and then tapped him on the
shoulder, saying:

“Hold, young man. Thy way is not here.
This honest gentleman does not know into what
hands he is falling."

Gabriel, confused did not know what to sa ,
and the emperor, addressing the officer in e
most innocent wa , said:

“ Excuse me, onsieur the General—”

“ I am no general, countryman,” was the stiff
interruption. “ I am a gendarme.”

“ Pardon me,” returned the seeming innocent,
blandly. “I thought from that gorgeous uni-
form and cocked hat that you must be a colonel
at least. But this gentleman is a friend of
mine—that is, he has offered to show me the
sights of Paris.”

“ Exactly,” replied the (gendarme, sohrly.
“ Well, I’ve warned thee. 0 on and lose thy
purse if thou wilt.”

And he pursued his way, evidently sulky,
while the emperor went on, chuckling to him-
self and .whi ring:

“Oh, my ear count, what readers of the
face are these dogs of the law. They saw the
innocent shinin from every curl of my wig
and the rascali y that even that black patch
cannot hide in thy left eye."

And as they passed the tables as before they
were ex ed to a running fire of true Parisian
wit an sarcasm, to which none of the four
could make any reply without betraying them-
selves, till they came to the garden of the Tui-
leries again, and plunged into the crowd to be
10s to notice.

ere Fouche sidled up to his master and said,
in a low voice of irritation:

“For Heaven’s sake, sire, let us go as we
were before. We attract notice from the con-
trast in our stature. There are three of
my men have been watching us as sus-
picious characters for some minutes, and I don’t
want to tell them who I am.”

“On the contrary, my dear Fouche,”retorted
the disguised emperor, who seemed to be in a
perverse and frolicsome humor that night, as

e sometimes took a whim to be, “ on the con-
trary. it is as well that your men should watch
us. It is seldom in these days that Ifind an
o portunity of testing honest public opinion.

ow I’ll ,wager they take me for a countr man
and you three for three sharpers comhin ng to
pluck my feathers. You are the only man of
the party not dis ised, and if they do not re-
cognise you, it is heir own fault.”

The emperor, while be valued Fouche for his
astuteness, delighted. in making jokes on his
character, whic was, in brief, that of a con-
summate rascal and peculator.

“Let us go on,” pursued the em ror. “I
came out to-night for a purpose. an I am not
to be balked of it. I want to find what the
pen le are saying about all of us.”

9 dra ged Gabriel along till the came in
front of tie great transparenc , an then re-
marked, loud enough to be hea :

“ Wagraml Bah! Not much of a battle 1”

“Not much of a battle, sayest thou?” cried
an excited voice behind him. ‘ What dost thou
know of it, mutton»headl Perhaps thou wast
there? Not much of a battle indeed. I tell
thee such cattle as thee had better k out of
places like that. Not much of a batt e! when
it was fought by our glorious emperor! Where
will you find such ageneral in Europe? Where?”

They had _run on the big sapper, who was
full of excitement and Cognac, to judge from
his breath, as he held his face close.

“Where?” responded the disguised emperor
coolly. ” Why, Moreau for example.”

The big sapper jumped up and down with a
roar of rage, vociferating: ,

“Moreau is a cursed traitor, a re alist, a
Jacobin, a Chouanl’ Do on heart ’11 fight
any man in Paris that denies that the Emperor
Napoleon isthe greatest soldier on the earth.
Dost thou hear?

“ Vive l’Empereurl” bellowed another sol-
dier in the crowd, and in a moment the whole
assembly caught up the c , not knowing wh .
and the big sapper shock is fist in Gabrie ’I
face, bellowing:

“ Shout Vive l’Em reurl I believe thou art
Sicilipuan spy, with t y black patch. Shout or

e ‘

And the bi as r ulled out the short sword
by his side. 8 we p

 

CHAPTER V.
ran raunonao 81‘. ANTOINE.

A now was imminent, and a real French
row, in which every one takes part, not exact-
ly knowmg what it is about. _

Peo le be anto about the most 0 posts ac-
cuse ons a the man with the ligh "‘8 “‘1
him with the black patch, while Fouche and
Casse Tete were unnoticed.

“ Royalistsl"

“ Red Republicans!"

“ Chouansl”

“ Mountaineers!"

“ English spies!”

“ Put them under the fountain!”

And in the midst of the yells Casse Tete sud-
denly put his knee into the back of the big
sapper, and flung him like a log to the earth,

 

l
l

l

l

 

 

when blows
some one rai the cry:

i‘ Gendarmes cgmingPI1 to Mt.

n a moment t e crow began run

ing a little as they went, and Count Gabriel
and the disguised emperor. considerably bidtled
but unhurt, found themselves running with the
rest, d0wn a narrow street that led into the
dingy old Faubourg St. Antoine, with the roar
of the mob gf‘cwing less and less behind them,
while Casse etc and Fouche had been lost in
the crowd.

How they had got there and by what street
they had come the
account of the con usion and fighting; but t y
heard the clank of cuiramiers, and knew that
the Municiaal Guard was coming, so, without
more ado, abriel and the disguised emperor
plunged into the devious lanes and alloys of the
once famous Faubourg, till they found them-
selves alone in a blind alley, without a sound to
break the stillness, under a din oil lamp,
swung from chains at the middle 0 the 

Gabriel looked at the em ror. His lig t wig
was awry, his-hat batte , his coat tom
at one outside poeket, but he was laug
heartily.

“Parbleu, count,” he said. “These fellow-
are rough in their loyalty. It is the first time
I have ever had to run in my own capital.
And yet I only said Wagram was not mob of
a battle.”

“ Your majesty sees it is‘not safe in Paris to
depreciate the victories of the Emperor Na
leon,” said Gabriel, smiling. “If i may ad
I would recommend your majesty to be more

rded in language, when taking a stroll in
uture.’ '

The emperor laughed and then looked round
him curiously, omerving: ‘

“ garbleu, count, do you know where we are
now

“ l have not the least idea, sire, except that
it is in the Faubourg St. Antoine. The smellin
the gutters tells that.”

“The Faubourg St. Antoine,” repeated the
emperor. thou btfully. ” Ah, count, you were
only a child w en this Faubourg gave laws to
France. It was from these vile-smellin alleys
that the mob rushed out in the Rei of error,
with their red ups and pikes. t was undd’
that very lantern that they hung some poor
man, perhaps, whose only crime was- that he
had a ‘De’ before his name. Ah, the ink-
creantsl But I ve them their medicine at
the Revolt of t e Sections. Yes, yes You
were only nine years old then. And. who
would have thought, in those days of license,
that the Emperor of the French would one day
be standing alone in the heart of this some
Faubourg, without a red cap in Paris. Come,
letus go. Let us explore this lace. I am in
the humor for adventures to-nig t. I have not
seen the real people since the Pope came to
Paris to oil my hair for me.”

He ended with his usual mocking smile
he referred to his coronation, and t ey w
slowly out of the alley into a narrow street. .

At the corner, under the dingy lamp, the;
read the sign Alice des Sans Culottes."

“ The last remnant of what was once a wer
in France,” commented the emperor, " t I
must remember to have that name changed to-
morrow. What is the street?”

A winding, narrow, lll-smellin lace, witba
gutter in the middle, and huge cogbhleostones on
each side, {let it bad a high sounding name:—
gRue do 6915ch d’ 01'.” [Golden Pit”

tract]

The emperor gave a short, sarcastic laugh, as
he observed: '

“ Paris is the city of contrasts, count. Th.
street of the Golden Pitcher ends in the Alley
of the Breechless. I know where we are now.
You would not believe it, but positively I can
lodged in this street.” V

“ You, sire! Impomiblei”

“Yes; I and Junot. Eh, but we had an
much money in those tie and when Julot
had a remittance from h father at A '
he always divided With me. We used go
to bed in the da time, now and then to dog
at? r21: pangs o hunger, when suppies wan
. 0 my.

“You must have been unhappy, sire. in
th%se_”days before your genius was
an — ,

“Unha y? Who knows? Yes; I thowlit
so then, at, and yet, sometimes I think now
those days were no so unhappy, after all. I
knew whom I could trust, then.

And the first man in Euro had fallen into n
brown study, as he walked 3 Owly on, his head
bent his hands behind him. Even his (33?»
could not hide the characteristic atti of
thought.

They went on down the street, till the em.
peror said indifferently:

“ There is the old house, count. It used to b.
kept by Citoyenne Tripotte. I wonder who
lives there now, and whether our old room an
ocmpied.”

He did not seem to care much. It was amare
passing spasm of curiosity. roused by old amo-
ciafions; hut Gabriel, whose rom'niic ima na-
tion “as exrited by anything that told o the

to fall freelyon all sides, and I

did not exactly knowheon,

 

*6,

 

 

 

past of his chief, looked closely atthe house and
saw a large silver plate on the door. 80 he

d:

“ There is some professional person lives
there now, sire. There is a sign u .”

The emperor wheeled round and looked at the
house more attentively.

“ So there seems to be,” he remarked. ” Go
and read the sign, count.”

Gabriel went up and read aloud :—

“MADEMOISELLE CAMILLE LENORMAND,
Seventh-daughter of the famous Astrologer,
REVEALS THE FUTURE AND PAST.
Tamas, TEN FRANcs A Srrrme.”

The emperor burst out laughing. He was just
in the humor that night to seek any adventure,
however ridiculous.

“Ten Francs a sitting! The prophetess is
dirt chea . Who could refuse such an ofleri
To revea the est, and the future, and all for
ten francs! out, let us try this wonderful
lady. I wish to ask her of the famous astrolo-
ger, whose daughter she is. On my word I
never heard of him. Such is fame. - me on.”

He was going up to the door, when Gabriel
ventured to say respectfully:

“But, sire. reflect. Your face is too well
known to all Paris to be hidden, and though
your wig is suiiicient disguise out in the dark
streets, this fortune-teller will certame re-

ize you.”

I he emperor settled his wig and false whisk-
ers, cooked his hat on one side and turned to
Gabriel, who noticed with surprise that he had
changed the whole expression of his counte-
nance by drawing down one side of his mouth
and putting a patch of black plaster at one
side of his nose. He spoke, too, in a thick
voice, and used a rustic patois from the south
of France.

“ How is that, my good one?” he asked. “If
1 had not chosen, you should never have known
me on the Boulevard. Talma taught me how
to change my face. I am going in here.”

And without more ado the emperor lifted the
knocker, and sent a. thundering peel echoing
grapgh a dark silent house in the Rue Cruche

For some moments all was silent, and then a
voice came out of the middle of the dcor, and
they saw a little wicket, like that on the per-
tal of a Masonic Lodge:

“ Who comesi” asked the voice.

“Strangers, who wish to see the lady who
tells fortunes,” answered Gabriel at a sign
from the emperor. -

CHAPTER VI.
m asrmnoann’s nAuemn.

“WAIT.” said the voice from the hole in the
door. “The hour is late. I must ask.”

Then they heard the click of the closin wicket
aid found themselves alone in the stree , where

briel ventured to say:

“Sire, it will be all over Paris to—morrow if
you are recognized.”

The emperor stamped his foot angrily.

“A truce to preachin young man. I have
taken a fancy to see i ll‘ouche does his duty
with these impostors. Remember, I am Jean
Baptiste Bonhomme from Tarascon. You are
Le air, of Alsace. Iwonder how much ion or

detestable woman will keep us waiting.

Gabriel lifted his hand to the knocker and the
emperor nodded.

‘ Yes. Wake her up a ain. Morbieul is not
gar iintegney as good as the of the other idiots in

or 9

Gabriel knocked, and they soon heard a step
“flag to the door. Then the little wicket
open , and the voice said:

“ Patience. The lady is consulting the stars.
gave you the money ready?”

“Yes! Tete Dieu, yes!” said the emperor, in
an irritable tone.

“ Pass it in at the wicket, then." said the
voice. and the first man in Europe thrust in a
gold iece at the little hole.

“ here is twenty francs. for two. Now open
the door, or I’ll call the police.”

Whether the Napoleon or the menace pre-

 

vailed is uncertain. but the door was 0 nod.
and they entered a lOW, dark 9:, ] ghted
by a sin e tallow candle. and saw fore them

ashort, umpbacked negro, in a rich Oriental
dress who said:

“The prophetess will receive you. Please to

anre. ’

Then be shut the door and followed them
down the passage to a flight of stairs, when the
emperor asked:

“ And on which floor does the ladv live?”

“ We have the whole house,” proudly replied

:the negro. “The priestess of t e stars brooks
'no company in the house of magic spells.”
, “ Marbleul" muttered the emperor. “ It must
be a profitable business, telling the fortunes of
others. Better than making sugar of beet-
roots, eh, Lenoir!”

Gabriel answered in the same vein, with a
broad Alsatian accent:

“ Ay, ay, Pere Baptiste. ' But the devil pays

'but slowl

 

"The Man in sea.

 

good w es, they say.” \

“The evil has nothinfi to do with it,” cried
the negro, angrily. " y mistress reads the
stars according to the sublime rules of astrology.
Be pleased to ascend. You will find her in the
Divining Room.”

He preceded them now, ufling and swalling
with importance, and clim ed stair after stair
till they arrived under a skylight, when he said
in a low voice, as if full of awe:

“Hush! Not a word. We are approaching
the Divining Room.”

He pushed aside some curtains that hid a
doorway, and ushered them into a darkish
room covered with a skylight, through which
thestars shone down, while the moon, hidden
behind some neighboring roofs, was just peep-
ing over the edge and sending a white shaft of
l' ht into one corner.

y the faint light they could see that the
room had an Oriental cus ioned divan running
round it, and that its only furniture was a huge
celestial globe of blue, semi—transparent glass,
that was ighted up inside and showed a perfect
miniature of the starr sky. This globe rested
on a massive bronze tripod, beneath the feet of
which lay a huge open book, inscribed with
phospho c characters on a black age.

The emperor took in all the etails with a
single glance, and noticed that the walls of the
room were bun with curtains all round, sothat
one could not te l where the door was, without
feeling for it.

The black slave had disappeared, and they
were alone in the dead silence of this curtained
room.

Gabriel was about to speak, when he was
checked by a pressure of the arm. and saw the
emperor lay his finger on his lips, as a sign for
silence.

So, for some minutes they remained standing

looking at the globe, till they heard the soun
of soft music, as if playing at a great distance;
drawin nearer.
Gabrie looked ag his master, and saw his lip
curl in a contemptuous smile. The em ror
was not impressed by solemn mumme es of
that sort.

Nevertheless, the music was very sweet and
sad and almost brought the tears to the eyes of
the young man, as it died away into the faint-
est of strains.

Then, of a sudden, a voice spoke, right behind
them. and they both started.

“ Whom seek ye?” said the voice.

They wheeled round and beheld almost touch-
ing them a tall, dark woman, with flowing
braids of black hair, and great dark eyes. She
was dressed in long, black robeshspangled with
shining points like stars, and loo ed at them in
a solemn commanding way, that would have
im ressed most people.

‘ Whom seek ye?” she repeated, in the same
deep rich tones as before.

“ I am seeking the lad who has six sisters,”
responded the disguise emperor, brus'guebn
“ hat has become of them all, madame

She frowned on him as she answered:

" What is that to thee? Ask of thyself. This
is not the first time these walls have seen thee.
Many a time and oft have thy feet clinibed
these steps.”

Gabriel could not help thinking:

“ I knew it. She has pierced his disguise.
Thief}: must know he once lodged here.”

e em ror, far from being disconcerted,
replied, w th his Marseillais accent: ,

“ Tots Dim, ma belle, thou hast made a little
mistake. I am Jean Baptiste Bonhomme of
Tarascon and I came here to know if thou
canst tell me what has become of the white
calf that some one stole, only two weeks ago
last Wednesdaye.”

The fortune- ller looked at him with a smile
of some scorn, and said:

“ Jean Baptiste Bonhomme, thy calf was not
stolen. The stars neVer lie, and hey have told
me that you once lodged in this house.”

She turned away to Gabriel.

“ What dost thou wish to know?”

Gabriel hesitated.

“ 1? Nothing—"

“Then I will tell thee something,”she uickly
retorted. “ Thou hast been a soldier, an there
is blood on thy hands. Thou seekest what thou
shalt never find. and itis well for thee it is so.”

“ Parbleu, Mademoiselle Lenormand, you
speak in riddles,” observed the emperor, in his
most sarcastic tones. “And who, if I tray ask,
was the famous astrologer, your father, of
whom you are so proud i”

“ Fame is comparative,” answered she in a
frigid tone. “These who knew him, knew a
wonder. Dream, if thou wilt, that all the
world knows thee: the da shall come when
thy name shall be couple only with that of
Attila.”

The emperor frowned deeply. Gabriel could
see his face now, for the moonlight had filled
the rmm. ‘

“ One word, mademoiselle,” he said hoale-
“ Do you know me?"

Rim smi’od more muri’ccuslv,

“ Your majesty needs a better disguise than
that, to hide the grandest head in Europe.”

 

The emperor dashed off his wig petulantl .

“To the devil with Talma and his ruesof
ar' . You have sharp eyes. Now tell meif you.
can, who is this? None of your mummery with
me. If you know who I am, on knOW_that I
amrnot to be trifled with. ho Is this With
me ’

The fortune-teller looked at Gabriel and an-
swered instantly:

“ Count Gabriel of Friedland, Grand Louve—
tier of the empire. I have seen him many a
time, but without that patch over his eye and
in better clothes.”

The emperor laughed. He had recovered his
good-humor, and cried out:

“ She has thee fairly, count. I knew that
there was no disguisin that tall figure of thine,
and the Grand Louvet er is apublic character.”

“And now,” said the fortune-teller, “since
your majesty has condescended to reveal your-
self, it is for me to reveal my were. You
came here in scorn, thinking to nd an impos—
tor. Your majesty shall see that I know both
past and future.”

“ Eh, rbleu! that is egg; enough with me,”
return the em ror g -naturedly, “ when
half the fools in ance have been writing my
biographies, and questioning my old nurse to
find out how many times I overeat in self as a
child. Tell me something about th gentle-
man. That will be a test.

The fortune-teller looked at Gabriel steadily,
and her dark eyes shone strangely.

“ I see him as a. boy,” she said slowly, “alone
on a battle-field among dead men. He is trying
to raise a body. It isthat of his father, for the
likeness tells it, and there are six bullet-holes in
the breast. I see the b0 kneel down and raise
his hands to heaven as i praying. He is swear—e
ing to avenge his father. I see him again, a.
grown man. He rides a black horse and wears
armor. He leads a long line of men in black
armor, on black horses. They are all dark:
men. He is the only fair man in the line. They
are riding over dead bodies in the Prussian
uniio’rm. He has avenged his father. That is;

as . '

“ All that is nothing,” remarked the em
“ Give me a better test. The Death’s H
known over Europe.”

The prophetess turned on him with flashing
eyes and cried out:

“ You wish a test. Shall I tell you who it
wigs that]: cargo to you last night?”

8. er t e em ror re :

“g , till me wheat he said, and I will think.
there somethin in 00-

Her voice sunkgto almv, thrilling key:

“ He told you that the child you 100 for, on
whom you build such hopes, would never sit on
the tin-One of France, and that the second Na-
poleon should be the descendant of Josephine,
whom you cast off.”

-Even the iron nerves of the em ror were.
shaken by this avowal, but he asked er:

“ And did he say no more? Did he tell who
he was
“He did not, but I can.”

“ And who was he!” asked the emperor, with
a slight sneer. '

“ One who studied with you at Brienne and
of whose fame you were jealous, as Mo—
reau’s.”

The emperor’s brow grew black as night.

“ Fool,’ he retorted, “what man ever lived
in France of whom I was jealous!” _

“One ” answered the woman, boldl , “one
besides oreau. He died in risen. by own
hand says the Moniteur, by ouche’s police say
others. But his spirit lives. and will haunt imee
till the lilies wave over France again and the
ocean wages roll by the grave of Napoleon the

su .

Then the emperor lau hed aloud.

“You have said it at set. I see who you are
now—a Bourbon spy. If you know who he is,
you are in league with him. Come. count, '99

ave wasted time on an impoator. Fouche can
deal with her. It is not worth my while to 3011
my hands.” ’

And he quitted the, room abruptly.

CHAPTER VII.
CAsss TETE’B Annals-van.

GABRIEL half expected to hear the seeress say-
something to prevent their departure, but she
made no opposition, and they descended the
stairs and went out into the street. where the
disguised emperor at once struck on, at a fast.
walk, toward the Tmlenes.

He said nothing on the way till he 0t to the»
o u and crowded streets. Then he rned on
hfiecompanion, and said, in a harsh, dry tone of

voice:

“ Well, did you hear who she said he Wu:-
this fellow that troubles us so?"

“ i did not understand, sire.” '

“she said it was a a an who died in "I"
by his own hand, according to the Hon '-

“ Yes, sire, and that other people bumed the
Duke of Otranto’s police.” ,,

“ Then you must know whdm she meant.

for.
are

“ I, sire? No. Your maj forgets that. as
it soldier, I take no interest p0 tics or poo
100. c

The emperor looked at him susp’cicusly.

> The Mag in sea;

7

 

 

 

“ You are sure you do not know?”

“Certain, sire. But one thing is plain. If
she be right, the man did not die. We have no
ghosts nowadays.”

The emperor nodded.

“ That is true. You area sensible man, and
see far, count. Come along. ”

The went on to the 'I‘uileries Gardens, which
they ound peaceful again, and they hurried in
at a lower door, where a sentry challenged
them and seemed to be overwhelmed with sur-

rise when he found that it was the emperor
Iiimself, who went at Once to his cabinet, still
followed by Count Gabriel, who did not dare to
leave him.

The emperor rung a bell, and said to the
chamberlain who entered:

“Send for the chief of police. Tell him to go
to No. 753 Rue de la Cruche d’Or, and arrest
every one in the house, seal up everything
seine the papers and make all secure. Then let

fhim report to me what he finds.”

The chamberlain —a. ve, quiet person
whom Gabriel knew as ousieur de Remusat,
bowed and vanished. _

Then the emperor turned to Gabriel.

“Thanks for your company to-night, count.
We have had a pleasant trip. You will wish to
return to Fontainebleau, I presume. I relieve
you from further duty on this matter. I know
now who the man is. Good-night.”

He had resumed all the freezing haughtiness
of demeanor with which he knew so well how
to atone fer the frankness and familiarity he
exercised at times, when the m00d was on him,
and dismissed Gabriel so curtly that the latter
feared he had offended him.

So he left the palace, mortified, he hardly
knew why, went to his town house, changed his
clothes. and drove back to Fontainebiean, and
found Casse Tote waiting for him.

“ Why, where did you get to in the crowd,
Came'l‘cte!" asked his master. “ I missed you
there dud found you here. Why did you not
eta in Paris?” -

Tete pulled his mustache in a manner
that denoted embarrassment.

“ Please, your honor, I thought that the stu-
id citizens could not hurt a man like your
onor, and I did not know whereto look for your

honor, and so I thought that as your honor must
surely come home some time, the quickest way
to find your honor was to wait for your honor
at your honor’s own house.”

Gabriel smiled.

“Casse Tote, you are lying to me. You old
rascal the Death’s Heads never called their
colonel ‘ our honor ’ seven times in 'a minute.”

Cases 'Fete turned red and stammered:

“ The fact is, my general, I had a little ad-
venture.”
“ An adventure? With whom i"

“ With a lady, my general, of course. A
French soldier does not count anything an ad-
venture except an assignation of love or the
sword." ’

Gabr'el stared at him, and then burst out
laughing. He could not help it.

‘ A 1 You!”

Gases te bridled up. '
“Certainly, my general. I am not too old
at even i m hair is a little gray. My
ther had gray air at twen -two. It is true
I have some scars, but the do not object
to them in the least.”
Count Gabriel could not contain himself
from laughing at the idea of such a grim old
head as Cases Tete in a sentimental ad-
venture with a lady, but he made shift to ask

gravely:
“ s adventure, Casse Tete, and what was
itluw came it!" ' be
, my genera on remem r we were
by that little fags in the Garden of the
nileriss, and the Munici l Guards came down
onusgsothat Iwas edaway by the rush,
but not before I ma to give that big as -
per a kick on the si e of the head that w ll
stop him from htin awhile. When I ot
out (i aha crowd fbu that I was in the m d-
die at e Fauhourg St. Antoine, and right op-
posite a house where there was the sign up, that
peo e had their fortunes told there. ’
riel started in 

“Rot Mademoiselle normand, 758 Rue de
la Cruchre d’O'xl'li” k hi he‘d

“be etc 00 8 - '

“Oh, no, my general. All Paris knows her,
but she’s too high-priced for a poor devil like
fled Fungi? :as a twenty sou fortune-teller,

s ame e.

“ Well. and wint came of this?”

“ Well, my general, it seemed to me as if the
finger of P vidence must be in it: for we had
been searchi g all over m for a man who
was playinv the devnl, and here I was right 0?-
Posite a fortune-teller. It said on the sign:

Lost and stolen articles recovered.’ I

go in to Name Etoile and ‘

thought, ‘ I will
and at who this fellow was, and how he got
i‘ntothee spalacessccasil .W
“ so that adame Etoile was your lady!"
um," no, my general. Iadame is an
old woman with a heard. as ugly as sin, sword-
mg to what I’ve heard, for I never saw her.”
‘ Then what was your adventure?”

l

 

“I am coming to it, In general. As I said, I
I was going up to the cor, when I saw two
people coming down the street. a man and a ,
woman. The woman was hurr ' g along, the
man following her, and she loo ed frightened.
I was in the shadow of a house and watched
them, when the man came 11 with the woman, ;
just in front of Madame toile’s door. He
caught hold of her arm and she gave a scream,
when of Course I rushed in. and gave my gen- ,
tleman a kick in the stoth that doubled him 1
up. And then I saw in the moonlight that he ,
was one of the secret police, for, as his coat }
flew open, I saw his badge of office.”

“ Indeed? And what did you do then?” ‘

“W'ell, my general, I knew I’d be in nbad 1
scrape if he recognized me; for I thought it
must be an arrest, and I was bound he should
not recognize me. So I 'ust gave him another j
kick, this time at the bac of the head, that put
him to sleep, and then I said to the woman,
‘ He won’t trouble you any more, my dear.
Will you let me see you home i”

“ And what did she say i”

“ Nothing, my general, at first. She was
just half dead with fear; but, after a bit, she
told me how grateful she was, and asked me if
I knew the we to Fontainebleau; and, parbleu,
my general, w )0 do ou think it was?”

‘ I’m sure I don‘t now, Casse Tote.”

“It was little Fanchette, Madame de St.
Jean’s maid. i didn’t know her at first, for she
was dressed like a lady; but she knew me. And
the‘epd of it was that I took her home, my gen-
ere...

“ Did you ask her how she came to have the
police after her?”

“Yes, my general; and she cried so over it
that I hadn’t the heart to persist. She wouldn’t
tell me, hutI’ll end in getting it out of her, for
We are on the best terms.”

And Casse Tete looked very knowing.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
THE BARON’S GOSSIP.

Com GABRIEL of Friedland slept ill that
night, and felt a vague sense of uneasiness the
next mornin when he went out into the forest
to attend to is honorary duties.

This troublesome apparition of The Man in
Red annoyed him excessively, now that the
emperor had peremptorin dismissed him from
further efforts in the case.

It was clear to his mind that Casse Tete had
stumbled on a discovery that had some con-
nection with the mystery.

If The Man in Red were not su mature]—
and his education forbid him to think that—he
must be a rson well acquainted with the ins
and cuts 0 the French palaces, and the cus-
toms of service in the army.

He had never made his appearance save in a
French palace, or in the camp of 'the Old
Guard; and in either case his presence argued
confederates.

The Royalist plots that had agitated France
at the nod-of the Consulate were an to
have died away si cethe accession o the em—
ror, but Gabriel cw that, even among the
igh officers of the empire, there was more
than one that secretly held the extreme
opinions of the legitimista, and amen the old
ladies of the ancient nobility Roya sm was
openly talked.

Madame de-St. Jean, his neighbor in the
palace, he knew to be a Legitimist of the old

md, who had given up.her opinions for a
place under Josephine, and taken them again
on her dismissal, when Marie Louise became

em -

lgadame de St. Jean had been his own enemy
before his marriage, and had tried to t his
wife away from him. to he married the
Prussian ‘prince of Potsdam. whom he had
killed in a duel at last.

And here was Madame de St. Jean’s maid,
a girl of twenty, leavin Fontainebleau secretl
in the night, and found in Paris, in the ban 3
of the secret police, not forty-eight hours after
the mysterious visit of The Man in Red.

Count Gabriel thought over all these things,
and felt irritated that he could not penetrate
any d r, now that the key of the mystery
was in h hands.

But the emperor had told him that heknew
who the man was, and that he had discharged
him from further consideration of the matter,
so that he could done more. ~

He left Casse 'I‘ete behind that morning and
rode alone into the forest, mile after mile,
through the grand old trees that .had come

down from the da s 9f Charl e. the bridle
10080. his horse folrowing the mechanically
—hie master buried in thought.

He had forgotten all about where he was 80‘

alwggii :18 sawdsome oneuolontgngpcéthenroad

m an no i e y gure

of the Barns; de Bellgv‘i‘llle, Grand Forester at
Fontainebleau. ,

The baron rode a sedate old mare of the same

build as her master. and equally averse to rapid

 

movement; and the baron wore the costume of
Louis XIV” Wig and all. He was one of the

a

old noblesse who had taken oflice under the em-
peror with all the readiness of a born courtier;
and, if he held Legitimist opinions, kept them
within his Own bosom.

‘5 Good-morning, Monsieur 1e Comte,” he
cried, courteously, as they met. “We missed
you last night at Madame St. Jean’s. We were
reduced to playing piquet, for your amiable

countess absolume refused to engage in whist

l with a dummy, and for my part I don’t wonder.

It spoils the game.”

In the retirement of the chateau the few h-
mates had been driven to whist parties as a n-
1axation when the court was away.

“Did you lay late?” asked Gabriel.

“ Late? 0. We parted at midnight. B -
the-by, now I recall it. the marquise was
rather a bad humor last night, between our-
selves, you know.” '

“ Indeed? And what about?”

“ Ah! that is her affair. I was not sorry, for
it was fifteen francs in my pocket, she p eyed
so badly and kept looking at the clock in a
manner, I declare, the reverse of complimentary

to in self.”
Ga riel be a to feel interested in thesecrct
and forgot'a about ruden‘ce in curiosity.

“ Then youthink s e wished to get rid of you,
baron i”

“ On my word I thought so at first, and were
the marquise twenty years younger, I should
have suspected an intrigue. But it is very
singular, my friend, as soon as I offered to go,
she pressed me to stay, and I can tell whole.
woman is in earnest, too.” .

“ When did on leave her, then?”

“ About mi ni ht, as I said before, when her
little maid, Fa ette— Ah, hy-the-b , count,
there is a me little mortalhenough tempt
even an old f ow like me. h count?”

“ But what about Fanchette, 3”

“Oh, Fanchette came in, and, on m word,
madame started as if she had seen a g ost, so
that I was surprised. But she recovered her
self immediately and gave the girl some t ' '
order, which took her out of the room. An
then she became so obviously abstracted that
I took my leave in ver pity. And I have been
guzzling my old bra us, count, ever since to

now why the entrance of that girl made her
start so violently.”

“Did you see the girl early in the evening,
baron!” asked Count Gabriel.

“Yes, no—come to think of it, no. I missed
her once; but ofpourse one cannot ask about a
prett servant without having one’s motives
calle in question, and the ma uise, as you are
aware, is not the woman to an or rivalry.”

The ancient Lothario winked at the yiung
man in a knowing way.

“What time did she come in?” pursu «1 Ga-
briel thoughtfully.

“It was five minutes past twelve, by the
clock on the mantle-piece.’

“ Did the girl look as usual, quiet and neat,
baron?”

“No, she seemed to me as if she had been
frightened and crying, for she was very pale. ”

“ I so that was what startled the mar-
quise. I believe she is quite fond of her little
maid, baron. Probably she thought she was
sick. Well, have you been your rounds!"

“ Yes, I’m ing home. What do you think
of it all, coun f’ t . '

118: were u... .. ..

n on -—cau .
sible that—” y pm.

“That thetinarquise is carrying on an in-
trigue with some one—”

‘ Of what kind?”

‘f Wh of course a woman can only havecna
kind of ntrigue, with a man in it.”

Gabriel laughed. ‘

“Reassure yourself, my friend. Madame la
Marquise ma have hadher youthful follies' but
she is past that now. An in in which
she engages hereafter will po tical, or 0
take "away the character of some other woc
man.

The baron pricked up his ears. -

“ What! politics? But no, she cannot be such
a fool. My faith, these are not the safe timos
for politics. This devil of a man in the Tailor-lee
will not stand any nonsense.”

“You’d better tell her so, baron.”

“ No, no, my dear friend. Not such stool.
But there is one thing I can do.”

“ And that is?”

“To find out what the marquise had at the
bottom of her heart, hid away. If it bepoli
Iam not sure but what I might be tempted to
give her a fright, by telling her I how an
about it.”

“Thebest thing you can do, bamn. Good- V

d8? to you. I must make my rounds.” /
'I‘ssy parted: and, as Gabriel rode m 1,.
could not help thinking:
it It the baron finds out anything, it i. men,
fault, and I cannot be blamed for t; but a.
word, I would like to know mysdf w”
Faachette to Paris last night.”
He made his rounds, returned to the ‘
and found the Very Fanchetta of m
been thinking, waitin for nun, m . m
from Madame de St. ean,

 

a;

‘not he] a feeling of pity for th
1101' ab terror.

A

The Man in Red.

 

 

CHAPTER IX.
mm LA MARQUEE.

Faxonn'r'rn was, as has already been hinted,
a remarkably pretty girl, and her Normandy
peasant costume, with its quaint ca , did not
make her any uglier. She looked t a picture
of demure innocence, and kept her eyes on the
floor with the ct of a nun.

Gabriel looks at her sharply, as he opened
the note; but if she had any tremors she hid
them under her modest, downcast look, and he
read the message:

"‘ Madame la Marquise de St. Jean desires the
ure of an interyiew with Monsieur le Comte de
iedland, on business of importance."

“ Tell madame I will come,” he said, dryly;
and then, as she was turning away, he added,
in a tone of meaning:

8‘ Another time, when you go to Paris, be
careful to come home before dark."

She made no answer, but hurried out with
her head down, and he went to tell his wife
that madame had asked him to pay her a visit
on business.

“ Strange that she should ask to see me, when

,ahe knows I hate her like poison, or a snake, or

anything treachero ,” he added to Inez.

She patted his ar soothingly.

l‘ Never mind the past, mtm char. I have a
fancy that poor madame is in trouble, and
when an enemy is in trouble, you know, we
should forgive and help him.”

"That is hardly the soldier’s creed," he re-
plied, laughing. ‘ After a victory is the time
we let loose the cuirassiers and gather in the

us and prisoners. But you think she is in

rouble? Of what kind? Debts?”

“ I think so.”

“Then I cannot be her,” said he, decidedly.

“ At least do not rude to her, man char.
Remember she is old enough to be your mother.
Respect her age."

“ I_wil‘l try to,” he answered; “ but when I
think of the trouble she gave us, only three
5:111:50, I feel inclined to tell her to go to the

ace

But for all that he went straight to the rooms
of the old marquise, at the other end of the
We, antli fouing her smile inhhher boudoir,

ng paean ag r t roug errouge.

He bowed rather cofidly, saying:

“ I hays obeyed your wishes, madame.”

1‘ You were always kind and nerous,” she
said, in a low, husky voice. " O , monsieur, I

that you once had reason to hate me;
but possibly you may have judged even me
too harshly. But I do not, I cannot complain.
You have been kind and generous to me.”

“The t is st, madame. I have obeyed
your wis es. “ ou desire to ask of me—”

“ To ask of you forgiveness, mercy,” she ex—
claimed, clasping her hands. “ You have in
your power a secret that may be the means of
oonsigning me to the dungeon or the solen-
tial sw: mps of Cayenne. You cannot igno—
rant ofnit, after last night. My life is in your

wer. ~
* “Do I look like a man who makes war on
women, madame?"

" No. no. I knew you were kind and noble;
too noble for me. But it is not only mercy that
Iask, but help and protection.”

“ Protection from what. madame?”

“ From that detestable J acobin, Fouche with
his low manners and h’s spies, who delig ts in
nothing so much as treading us down into the
age; as of the old noblesse, because we despise
“And how havo you incurred the hatred of
the Minister of Police, madame? You may be
aware that as an officer of the em ire, I cannot
neglect my dut and try to put 0 tacles in the
way of the pol cs. I suppose, from what ou
la , that you have been abblingflikr‘iesilly iti-
ca plots. " It so, you must the con-

burst out into a low cry, altar! he could
o woman, u

‘.‘No. no.” she moaned. “It is not that, not
that. They would not hurt me, I think' for the
Empress Josephine has some influence left. It
lsnot that.”

“ Then what is it, madame l”

“ There is another—oh, count, count, I am

- about to confide in you—to confide in you a

secret which places me wholly in your power—I
--I--it is my—”

“ Spare yourself the pain of the avowal,
madame. Ido not wish to know your family

‘ florets, or to have you in my power. In a

“11. what do you require of me?’
“ You know that Fanchette was nearly
arrested last night. I am not certain yet if the
lice recognized her. Find out for me if they

and let me know. If so, I must fies fromr

France in twelve hours.”

fie spoke rapidl and distinctly now that she
had found him w ling to listen, and he could
see. trom the eager look in her eyes, that she
washunsely anxious.

“ I am plretty sure, from what Casse'l'ete told
me. that t ey did recognise her, or they would
nothave chased her ” he replied. “ If Lou will
tallme'whatcsu the chase, I will ll you
whether .oy knew her.”

 

l

The marquise hesitated and eyed him fur-
tively for some seconds, before she finally said,
slowgy:

“ e had taken a message from me toa
person in whom I take a deep interest—in fact,
a relative—very near-J

Then she stopped short. He waited patiently
till she resumed:

“M friend—my relative—is on the side of
the k ng, and therefore, as you are aware, in
constant danger from the police. Fanchette
arrived there, and delivered my messagle, when
a terrible knocking came at the door. hey all
knew what it was, and escaped the bac way,
but found the house surrounded by the lice,
of whom two were in the rear. One 0 these
chased her—” -

“ What became of the other madame?”

“ I do not know—yet—but I, fancy—”

“ Fancy what, madame?"

“ That he was killed by my friend.”

“Indeed? Then in that case I can reassure
you, madame. The police did not know your
domestic, for the man who caught her was
gtunn’ed by Casse Tete before he could see her
see.

The marquise looked relieved.

“You are quite sure of that? You are not
deceiving me with false hopes, to end in my ar-
rest to-morrow?”

“ Certaing not, madame. Unless your friend
was arrest .”

The old woman tossed her head proudly.

“ Arrested! He! No, no, count. The police
are not yet appointed that can catch him, if he

. is not betra ed by a traitor.”

“ Then w at is it you fear, madame?”

“That ,Fanchette might be arrested. She is
a coward, like all girls, and they would wring
everything out of her.”

“ Then make your mind easy, madame, for,
thanks to Casse Tete‘s rou h method of treat-
ment, the police are not like yto have any clew
to Fanchette’s identity. And now. madame,
let me give you a piece of advice.
these 51 ly Royalist plots. The French people
have a man on the throne now, a warrior, the
greatest man in the world. They do not want
to come down to a silly old imbecile like Louis
the El hteenth. You will only burn our fin-
gersni you try it again. Let t is be a esson to
you.

So saying, he bowed profoundly and left the
old marquise humbled and silent, looking after
him with a singular expression.

When he had gone away she said to herself
half aloud:

“ I hate that man. He is a fool, after all. If
I had him down, I would not have spared him.
He has not a grain of curiosity. And then he
clin to the Corsican. But so much the better.
If amille has read the stars right, and there
is any truth in astral , he has not long to
triumph. And When t e king comes to his
own again, and we have our day, then, We
shall see who stands highest before the,world,
this upstart or—”

She stopped for she heard some one coming
in, and presently Fanchette, looking demurely
timid as ever, came softly toward her mistress,
and faltered:

“ Do they know, madame?” -

“No child, they. do not. But thou .art not
fit to do these errands any more Fianchette.

“ Suppose they had taken me I would have
let them tear my flesh from my bones with red
hot incers; but they should never have torn a
wor from me.”

“Nor from me either madame,” answered
Fanchette more firmly. “ Indeed, no.”

The marquise smiled.

“ Foolish child, t on has nothing to sustain
thee, as I have. Thou knowest that even the
timid hen in the barnyard will face a lion in de-
fence of her brood.” '

Fanchette blushed deeply.

“ I know I am not a mother, madame; bu
for all that. I think,though I am so afraid, that
could die for monsieur, rather than betray him.”

The mar uise looked sharply at her and read
the story 0 the crimson cheeks with cool calcu-
latin approval, though she said aloud;

“ ah! child, thou knowest nothing of it.
Nothin but one feeling will ever nerve thee ‘to
the fait ifulness we require in these days of life
and death.” .

“ And what is that, madame?” asked the girl
innocently. ,

“Love, child, the love that is willing to
sacrifice everything for the sake of the 0rd
and master of our heart.”

“ I think. madame.” said pcor Fanchette
timidlv, “that I could even do that for the
sake of monsieur—that is, anything that is not
wicked, madame.”

And she grew redder than ever as she looked
down, while the hard old worldling eyed her
like a hawk hovering ovor a chicken, watching
every movement.

At last she said mockingly:

“Perhaps you would, anything that is not
«flaked madame. That is why I say you don’t
know what love is. Go, child. I will ring
when I want you.” . I
h 3% as Fanchette retired, madame laid to
e :

 

Keep out of ?

 

“It is the only way to make her faithful.
She is young and innocent. Let her think she
may be his wife, if she is silent and daring.
Women will go thro h fire for love. Ah,
God! did not I once do it ’

And the old woman’s heart was full of memov
ties, as she brooded over the days of her youth.

CHAPTER X.
HUNTING FOR A BURROW.

MW]: Gabriel, Count of Friedland,
went away from the Marquise de St. Jean,
with a new idea in his mind on the subject of
The Man in Red.

The mysterious visitor had come to the
palace by some secret passage, and these secret
pa es wore only known to the members of
the 0d noblesse. Madame de St. Jean then
must know something about them. Fanchette
had been surprised by a descent of the lice
in some house in Paris. and he had himself
heard the emperor order N o. 753 Rue Cruche (1’
Or to be taken.

Was Fanchette there? Probably, but not
cei'tiinly; for Fouche was always makin de-
scents on houses in the night. It might ve
been some other.

Granting it to be the. house of the fortune-
teller, who was the man the girl had gone to
visit? Was he the mysterious Man in Red, or
some other! i _

Whoever he might be, he had some close con~
nection with the marquise. What was that
connection? Gabriel could only think of one.
He knew that the old lady had been separated
from her husband before the Revolution, and
was su to be childless; but there was
that in the evident gin and anxiety of the
marquise, in her wor to him about being “in
his power,” that made him say to himself as he
walked along:

“ It is a man, and she loves him deeply. A
woman of her age can hardly have a lover; but

 

. she may have a son whom she is ashamed to

acknowled e, and yet loves all the more for the
cloud that angs over him. But if so, who is

, he, and what has he ever had to do with The

Man in Red? Is he the man himself? I think
I’ll set Casse Tete to work on this with the lit-
tle Norman maid. He is sharp.”

But before he had a chance to do this, be was
called to Paris by a courier from the emperor,
and sent off on a mission to the court of Spain,
which occupied him several months on matters
of trifling importance, and t the whole mat-
ter out of his head for the time being.

When he returned, late in the year, he found
the court at the Tuileries, and that he had been
promoted to the command of the Imperial
stables, as Master of the Horse, with an in-
creased salary and rooms in the Tuileries, his
old chief, Duroc, being Grand Marshal of the
Palacc, while the whirl of festivities over the
birth of the King of Rome, which happened
ltJl'latlwigter, kept all gloomy apparitions out of

is ea

80 the winter of 1810-11 passed over, and all
the world seemed at peace with France to rule
over it; the English making no headway in
S in, with every prospect of a final collapse
0 what was now only, On the part of the 8 n~
iards, a guerrilla warfare. the spring of 811
0 had with the em ,ror firmer than our on
b throne. and the w ld predictionsof The Man
in Red further oif than ever, to all seeming,
from their fulfillment.

Gabriel, in his new position around the l-
ace, was necessarily bro ht much into con ct
with various great poo 9. and among others
with the Duke of Otran , Chief of Secret Po-
lice, who one day said to him:

to if, m dear count, do you not re-
mem er a cu ous adventure we once had to-
gether in the crowd in front of the Tuileries,
at the first day of the Wagram celebration!"

“ I do, duke.”

“ I have never been able to find what in the
wioiggnbecame of his majesty and you that
n .

a You’d better ask his majesty, duke.”

“ Ask him? He would never tell.”

“Then you can hardly expect me to do it,
my dear duke.”

Fouche looked at him slyly, with an evil
sneer as he answered: .

“ You are very discreet, count. I can didne
one lace to wh ch you went.”-

“ an you? You are renowned for your pen-
etration, duke.”

“ You need not sneer. You militaryl men
think you know a great deal; but, for your
own talent, you have not found out the secret
of what happened in the palace of Fontaine-
bleau a year ago.”

“ Have you. duke?”

“ Never mind. Further, you made a bad job
of it at 753 Rue Cruche d’Or.”

H Did we?” v ‘

“Yes. You expected to find out a myate ,
and it only grow deeper. My men wentrg'o
seine the house, and found no one there. Made-
moiselle Ifnormand, astrologer, had dis-i

appea .
“Butyou lostaman inthedeacentflhard
duke. How came that?” g . '

Fouche looked at him curiously.

“the

The Man in Red.

 

“ How did you know that?”

“ Never mind. I heard it.”

“Yes, itis true. He was at the back door
and was stabbed by a man who escaped with a
woman. He fell dead instantly, and the man
got off.” '

“ But not the woman.”

“Yes she did. The same man came out of
the darkness on another of my officers, and
knocked him senseless, just as he laid hands on
her. But the house was empty. Not a soul to
be found in i and no one has ever seen Made-
moiselle Cam lle Lenormand since, though he-
Mrs that she was a famous woman for the way
.a which she told people all mey had ever done
since the were born. ’

Gabrie had heard enough and turned away
from Fouche, whom he hated cordially in com-
mon with most people at the court. He saw
that the wily Duke of Otranto was on a wrong
scent. He had confounded Casse Tete with
the man who stabbed the police ofiicor. This
argued that the two men must have resembled
each other in figure.

Casse Tete and the unknown man were both
tall and thin- another indication pointing to
the identity oi The Man in Red.

The news raised all his old curio ity to the
fever heat and he began to wish he had found
fit more than he did when he was at Fontaine-

eau.

This again brought Madame de St. Jean to
his mind and he thought he would find out some
more about her.

He knew that his wife who had been fond of
the old lady, kept up correspondence with her
and he asked her carelessly one day whether
she had heard from the marquise recently.

Ines answered:

“ Certainly. Only last week.”

“And where is the!"

“ At the palace of Foutainebleau. You know
she. received a pension soon after we wentaway,
through the oiflces of the Empress Jose-
phine. She there yet.”

Gabriel said nothing more at the time, but
next da he obtained leave of absence from
pa ace, rode over to Fontainebleau and
paid a visit to the Baron de Belleville, who re-

ed his ancient comrade with a rapturous

-' welcome as a relief to the ennui he was suffer-

in .

Gabriel dined with the baronand after din-
nor brought up the snh' of the old laces of
France, of the medieva ways of bui ding and
hily of secret passages.

“Do you know, my dear baron,” he said at
last, “ that i am convinced there is more than
on secret pa in this old place?”

The baron loo ed at him knowingly.

“ Ah, have you found that out?”

“Yes. Did you know it?"

The baron tooka inch of snuff.

“ The witness ines to criminate himself.”

“That means that you do know it!"

2: the...” “We” a... .. .. a...

ut re are ,
Us tore not!"
“ I have no doubt of t."
“ Do you know the whereabouts of aayi"
The baron was silent.
“I am sure you do.

Now, my dear baron,

these oughtto be known to the em-

grornof w om you are asworn aude of-
er

»“ I don’t see that."

“I will convince you.”

“In what manner?"

“ Easily. You admit that the em roris the
legal sovereign of France, crowned y his Holi-
nus, the Pope, chosen by the unanimous vote
of thNe peopl: of l'i‘rrlance.

‘ o u ts. ere were twen -five hun-
dred noefln the boxes." ty

“Yes. To about f..ur million ayes. I know
you are a Royalist at heart—" -

“ No, no,” interrupted the baron in alarm.
“ I never said so. Good heavens! You don’t
mean to denounceme; you, my friend.”

“Calm yourself, I have no such idea; but

chm say: I the enemies of the State k
of their kn wledge of the secret pa ns.:
'mtainebieau to annoy his y an W.

to by plots to assassinate h m—”

"rum never was such a plot," cried the
ham. hastily. “Never! I have alwadlsl said
flat a-ssination is a misteko. the
emperor to-morrow and the kill! WW“ 3""
bsuable to return alive."

. Ah, you admit it, then."

“I admit n , count. What are you
talking of? Do you come to dine at my table
aggregroy my them and frighten ms t0

The poor baron was pale and his lips trembled
“é;§.‘i°i°' ued h

e purs immercilessi .

“ I do not wish to frighten you,ybut I do wish
“a demand that if you inve any knowledge of
the secret passages n the palace of Fontaine-
an“, on wiiltakeme to them endshow me
um“ i ey are. in the name of the em ror."

The heron looked'at him in tive 'and

pable dismay. .Hns easy-so 1: nature. sunk
n 310th and 300d livmg, was no match for the
firm resolute soldier.

 

“ What do you mean i” he gasped at last.

“Imean that I have come here and  want
you to tell me of the secret passe es in this
palace. If you decline, I must fin them out
myself, and when I have done so, I shall report
them to the emperor."

The baron clasped his hands.

 

“ For heaven’s sake anything but that. I i,

will tell you, if you will onl promise not to
let the emperor know anyt ing about it. I
swear to you that there is no conspiracy afoot.
These passages have not been used for over a
year past and then they-had not been inhabited
since the conspiracy of Cadondal and the In-
fernal Machine.”

“ Then they were used then?”

“My friend, that is all past and gone. It
cost the lives of seventeen men and nearly .a
hundred were sent to Cayenne. I was not in
that plot. I begged them not to try the In-
fernal Machine. I told them that _the Cplot
would recoil on their own heads. It did. n'ly
one man escaped alive that the world thinks
dead.”

“ And who was that?"

“Do not ask me. The honor of a lady is
bound up in it, count. As a. ntleman, I im-
plore you not to ask me. here. I will
show you the secret gee, but you must
promise not to reveal t em to any one else.”

“Why not, baron?”

“ Because, if he knew to what use they had
been turned and found out that I had known
them all these years, I should be in danger, not
from him, but from Fouche.”

“ And if I promise, baron, not to reveal to any
one how I found out these passages? If I make
u a story of finding them out accidentally,
wgmt then? Remember that I have made up
my mind they shall never again be used to the
Ezejudice of the emperor, and that the shall

secret no longer. if you hesitate, shall
think that you meditate fresh plots, and my
dut will obli e me to denounce you at once.”

T e baron c asped him by the arm.

“ For heaven’s sake do ndt denounce me! I
swear to you that they shall never be used
again if you will kee the secret.”

“Very well. I ho d you to~your.honor as a
gentleman to inform me if any one ever at-
tempts so to use them. All I want is to be
secure.”

The baron drew a long breath.

“That I promise readily. The never shall
be so, used. Come with me and will show
you.

CHAPTER XI.
rm: SECRET PASSAGES.

anleft the apartments of the baron, and
Gabriel led the way to the part of the palace
where The Man in Red had first appeared to the

he baron followed submissively: but the

y count noticed that he he aiming all
rowand behind him, as if afrgtkl be seen
by some one. -

“ What is the matter, baroni” he asked.

“ I don’t wish to be seen. If you happen to
see Madame de St. J can, I implore you to give
up the expedition for the day. She has sharp
0 es.

“ Then she knows of the passages?”

“ Certainly, and if it gets out that I have be-
trayed them—”

‘ Well, baron?”

“I shall be despised, ostracised by my old
friends. You don t know them, count. It is
not the taking oflice they mind. The best of
them have done that. It is the letting out of
the secrets of a lot of old women. And then
too. I have reasons for wishing not to be on bad
terms with Madame la Marquise.”

Gabriel saw that the old gentleman’s face was

htly redder than usual.

' I understand,” he said, “you and the mar-
quise are possibly about to marry.”

“ And why not, my friend?”

“ There is no reason. On the con , I
think it an excellent arrangement. But re
we are, and no one has seen us."

Then they slipped in at a small door to
which the on bad a key, and found them-
selves alone in the gloomy corridors of the old
palace of Foutaiaebleau.

The baron led the way to the ante-chamber,
where Gabriel had augured the existence of a
door, and touched a spring, low down in the
wain . , showing a door that opened into
the corridor puteide. In its appearance it was
an ordinal- panel, and it turned two ways, on
a pivot in he midst thereof.

“ The" doors.” said the baron. “ you will find
in every one of the old rooms of King Francis I.
You know his
the ladies, and he. esire to be able to intro-
duce them into his rooms and let them out

lagain without the knowledge of his chamber- l But there is a lad
ns.

 

l

!

 

The passed into the dark corridor where
Cssse etc had heard the laugh, and the baton
continued:

“ To enter a room from a corridor is just the
opposite. Feel along the molding of a wall
panel, with your thumb at the hight of the
e e, and press. When you come to the right
p ace, it yields.” -

Then he went on and showed Gabriel the en-
trance to several rooms, in salts which had no
visible communication, save with each other
and anterooms. When he had done, the young
man observed quietly: ‘_

“ That is all very well, baron, but I see it re-
?uires a good deal of practice to master these.

s the secret a common property to the gentle-
men of the old court?”

The baron smiled.

“ Francis I. and Louis XIII. kept it to them-
selves, but when the Great Louis began to in~
dulge in a dozen ladies at a time, the secret be-
came no longer a secret at court. The ladies
had other lovers, for even a king is not proof
against French infidelity, and by the time of
Louis the Martyr it was a privilege of‘the best
families. No one was admitted to the secret
who could not trace a noble genealogy at least
as far as Henry IV., and they had a
secret ritual like the Masons. But that all
over now. The secret is not what it was."

“ And were you sworn to secrecy i”

The baron fidgeted. ,

“Well, yes; of; the Grand Master is dead,
the order broken up, and we have not held a
chapter since the days of 1793. Technically}
am wrong to tell you what I have, but there is
no one who can reproach me.”

“ And were ladies admitted to the secret!”

“Decidedly, my friend. Women can keep a ,.

secret of that sort better even than men; tor it
is their interest to do it.”

“Very well, baron. And now for the pee-
sa as We spoke of.”

he baron affected to be mystified.

“ The pass esi I have shown them.”

“ Oh no. hese are only doors in the thick‘
ness 0 swell. These are not at all in the
nature of passages.” ,

“ l’l‘hese are all this: I know of." _

“ am sorry toa outotax ourmemory
baron; but there is at east one pzmage in an:
palace that leads out under the grounds,"
possibl extends even into the forest belt.

The looked obstinate. -
“ I know of none."
“ Very well, baron. Then on compel me to

report to his majest that I ave made a dis-
covery, and to ask to send down some of the
Imperial architects to examine the building. I
think, with the aid of a few workmen, they will
manage to dig out some of these rat-holes.”

The baron looked at his wits’ end, and present- ‘ ‘

ly said, in a deprecatory way:

“ Do not to too hard on me. You are a
tleman. Bu pose that a man's life dependent
the secret. at a poor fellow, whose onin
was loyalty to his kin was actually—”

“Living here? Ith u htso.” , ~ '

“l didnotsayit. I eedldidnot‘ylt. I
implore you, count, to urge me no man fill to-
morrow. I Wear to you,on thebooor of a
ge‘r‘itl‘eigan, that I will theta-12:: you theway.”

n vs your poor ' tune toaseapst
Is that it n?”

“I did not sa it. I asked you only to he
finerous, M. is

ve heard, was noble. You be to m
order. Do not expose to the malice o Fuchs
a ntleman whose blood is pure as your own,
an whose misfortune is that he loves use lilies
better than the vulgar tlicolor of this upsh§
court.” _

The old baron was surprised into the warmth
of genuine feeling. and said what he munt.
Gabriel. rather nettled, :

“Had I known you were a Ch you
might not have enryed the post cumulus so
long ied by t e bounty of the empaw.
The or vulgar! It has waved over the
triumph of Jena. when the lilies were draped
in the min of . Boshach. Upstart court! For
shame, man. when you eat its bread. as
ontothissecret passageatonce,orIswear,on
the honor of a soldier of Jena, Austsrliia and
Friedland, that I will call in workman at once
and tear down the walls in search of it.”

The baron trembled excessivelv.

“My dear count, my dear friend, do not be
angry. I will take you there. But m
me,ou the word ofanobhthat youwillnos

any one you find there.
and have a hot temper—~"

“Yes, I am armed, and Idon’t intend to tg‘iva
up mysword,baron. I begin towered:
there is more behind all t is than fancied,
Who is this man that you have concealed in the

majestg was a great man after I palace?"
a

“i have concealed no one; on my soul lswear
it. I do not even know if he beacinally here.

If ou want to find one of them. touch § mother tremhling or her son—”

the base 0 the room and feel round with our
foot wherever you see a carved flower. They
are all alike in appearance. and it is only by ex-

perience you can find them. As you see, this 1 he does not attack me.

opens in the corridor. Let us go out. ”

I
I

T

“ I see, Madame St. Jenni" .

“Yes, my friend—” r
“Reassure yourself. I will not harm him if
I promise that on the

the honor of a soldier. Now lead on.”

mte. Your own father, as I

Youarearmed’

in the case, dear count. a

,,

'10
O

The . lyi-an in = Red.

 

The baron went a few steps and then stopped
uneasily. ,
“ But I must warn you,” he said “that he is
a brave man, and in danger of his life every
day. Possibly he may attack you thinking you
a lice spy.”
abriel smiled, loosened his sword in the
sheath 101‘ he was in uniform and observed

 1 quietly:

“ t him try it. If you have any further

objections, baron, state them in a hurry, for I
am getting tired.”

‘. The baron went on a few more steps, and at

' last stopped.

“I cannot do it—I dare not. Take Egur
sword and run me through. I cannot a
traitor and betray her and him too.”

Gabriel could not use violence to an old man,
thou h he felt angry. On the contrary, he
coul not help a certain respect for the poor
baron. So he said, more kind y:

“ I do not want you to betray any one. Show
me the door, and let me find the rest for my-

“It lies before you,” answered the baron, in a

low, stifled voice. “I cannot—”
“ Show me how to open it, you mean?”

. is Yes."
’ "You do not need to. Leave me here and go
6 back: although I must say that I think you

would do better to precede me, so as not to

alarm your concealed friend. Tell him that I

don’t want to hurt him, but he can no longer

make the emperor’s palaces a home for his con-
’3

“I dare not tell him,” murmured the baron.
“ He is a terrible man. He might even accuse
me of betraying him.”

. “In that case, Isuppose
V is a dangerous customer.
warning. Has he fire—arms?”

The baron made no answer, except:

‘ “ For Heaven’s sake, come awn .”

Gabriel, instead of paying h was all the
while examining the wall in front of him,
which was amrently smooth masonry, with
careful] -finis joints.

The on watched him furtively till he

his hand on the secret spot, when one of
" ‘ the stones shook and gave way inward, disclos-
 the handle of a door, with a lock and key-

, He turned the handle and behel the door
., open before him, disclosing a high of s3?
‘ ‘ leading upward into the thicknem of the w

your hidden friend
bank you for the

 

CHAPTER XII.
 ‘ m nuances.
> T!!! Baron de Belleville groaned:
“I did not. show you. Your blood he on
yourown head. He will kill you.” .
‘ Gabriel laughed.
“ In that case, it may be as well to proceed
sword in hand, ” he obherved.
Bo saying, he drew his sword.
“ How do you a«Ken this door from the other
, side, baron? he ed, qpietly.

' The baron snarled:
“ ’ out. I’ll not show on.”

' The yaun man looked a saw an ordinary
hand w le there seemed to be a window
' , , \ aoniew above the staircase, for the light

15 “and down from above.

‘ Without further hesitation the young man
walked up the stairs, observin as he went that
-, . the passage was built in the th ckness of one of
;~. the tower walls, and only wide enough for one
' I k ' person at a time to pass.

" a.‘ At the top it entered a corridor of the same
narrow dimensions, and he began to perceive

- v how it was lighted, for another staircase was at

if the other end, and there were several round

' windows in the wall. '

'H‘e remsmbered these windows. outside, as
nels in the wall, without any glass, and found
“at the passage ran all round one of the
towers of the palace, in the thickness of the

v

wail.

It led upward, and therefore must end in the
high pitched tower roof, which ever one had
the ht to be only the abode of ow 3, hate or

a.
011 he went, three or four times round the
tower till he had nearly reached the eaves,
when e heard some one call down the stairs: ‘
“ Who’s that? Is it thou, my mother?”
Gabriel made no answer but to cough and
wheeze like a fat person, and the voice called

l ‘ “Oh, it is you, baron. Comeup."

Gabriel went on in another flight of stairs,
saw an open door be ore him, opening into an
immense dark loft, which was only lighted, low
down, by small bull’s-eye windows under the
caves of the roof. _

In the loft sat at a table, writing, a man, who
had a pair of pistols lying before him by his

I,I'Fhe face of this man was long and pale. He

: had dark eyes, wish in ea er, restless look in
3‘ them, and he was clean even, with a long,
 pointed chin and thin li closely comp .
"g‘; The is man looks up, saw the figure of
Gabrie , sword in hand and immediatel put
down his pen and laizl his hands on his p stole.

 

 

 

Contrary to the young officer’s expectations, he
did not fire, but remained seated, watching the
intruder out of his dark eyes as Gabrie ad-
vanced toward the table.

When he was within a few feet, the man at
the table cocked both pistols and said sharply:

“Halt! You’re near enough.”

Gabriel halted and took the task of a ques-
tioner into his own hands.

“ Who are you, and what are you doing here,
monsieur?” he sa1d.

The pale man scanned him coolly from head 

to foot. answering:

“ That is for me to ask. Who are you, and
what are you doing in my room?"

“ Your room, indeed! This palace belongs
to the French nation, and I am a French offl-
cer.

“ Where’s your commission?” asked the pale
man, coolly.

Gripriel could not helplsmiling.

H m
the devil himself.”

“On the contrary, it is you who are the im~
pndent one,” retorted the stranger. “I think
the best thing I can do with you is to shoot you
down.”

“ You can do that if you please,” returned
Gabriel, sternly; “but you will give me the
right to tell you with my last breath that you
are a coward. I have no pistols; yours are
co'cla‘ked.”l

be e man nodded a rovin l .

"‘Yo‘l)i.haVe courage," hgpsaid, goglly.
are not afraid to die. I do not need to take a
pistol to you. Put down your sword, and I will
ay down my pistols.”

Gabriel hesitated, and the pale man said:

“Oh, very well. I will set the example. I
am not afraid of you. See.”

He uncocked his pistols and laid them down,
when Gabriel at once sheathed his sword.

Then the stranger arose to his feet and showed
that he was very tall and thin, dressed in black,
with the appearance of a notary.

“ And now, monsieur,” he said, “ let us both
be clearly unders . Are you an emcer of
the lice or not?” .

" am not," returned Gabriel, emphaticall .
“ At the same time I am an officer of t e
emperor, and it is my duty to ask you what
you are doing here?"

The man in black scanned him from head to
foot. rather menacingly.

“ And if I decline to answer?” he said.

“ In that case, monsienr, it will be my duty
to have you arrested.”

“I thought it would come to that. In that
case, too, monsieur, allow me to remind you
that you are in my power, and that I have only
to hi i you to be perfectly safe.”

“You are wrong, monsienr."

“ I should like to hear your reason for think-
ing me wrong.”

” In the first place, I am a high officer of the
em ror’s palace on a day’s leave of a .
If fail to return to-morrow morning to the
Tuileries I shall be asked after, and it will be
found that I went to Fontainebleau. Conse-
quently I shall be searched for.”

Too man in black compressed his lips.

“ They can never find on."

“ You think not. on ima e that the
secrets of these passages are un wn to any
but the Chouan party

“ The Legitimist party " interrupted the
stranger, sharply. “Con 6 your epithets to
courtesy, monsieur.” ‘

“ Very wall; Legitimist, then. You think no
one knows of this chamber but ourself and
your friends. Yet you see I have ound out the
secret.”

“That is true, butif I kill you it will be as
much a secret as ever.”

.“ Hardly. My death, if on kill me—andJ
do not say you cannot—wil be laid at the door
of my friend, the Baron de Belleville, whom I
visited, and he will be arrested and compelled
to confess."

The man in black looked angrily at him, as
he snarled:

“ The baron is a fool.
of him.”

“On the contrary, I found the doorto this
passage bymyself."

“ Somuch the worse for you. You will never
find another.”

“ Again you are wrong, - monsleur. You
cannot assassinate me without a noise that will
be heard in the grounds, and inquiry will be
drawn to the place from which it comes. The
end will be that the architects will come here,
and by hunting up old plans in the archives
will open all these secret passages to the light of
day. You see, therefore, that there is but one
course for you to ursue. You must leave this
place nt once and orever.”

The man in black laughed sneeringly.

“ Easier said than done. I do not intend to
go awa .”

“ You cannot stay. In fact, I cannot, for the
life of me, see any. object you can have in stay-
ing, except to enact the mammary, of which
you are so proud. if you are plotting to assas-
sinate the em ror—”

“I am no ,” interrupted the other, sharply.

_"

You got the secret out

n my word, you have the impudence of i

“ You F

“ I could have killed him ten times over, spite
of his guards, had I wished.”
“ Then since you are so proud of your

1 to do so, it is my duty td'deprive you 0
E wer.”
[ “Enough has been said on that head, mon-
1 sieur. Now tell me your name.”
“ \Vhen you have told me yours.”
“It is unnecessary. I know who you are
‘ already. You are the Count of Friedland.
‘ I am—no matter who I am. Now, mon-
sieur, I will lgive you an equal chance with

wer
that

! myself. I wi not touch these pistols. You
i wear a sword. Yonder is another. We will
. tight fairly. If you had been a police emcer,

. you would have been a dead man long ago. It
is only because you wear the uniform of the

V army that I have spared you so far. I love the
old colors. Now take care of yourself.”

As he spoke, he went to a chair, on which la
a sword, drew it and came forward on anri ,
who was thus compelled to defend himself.

The stranger was as tall as Gabriel, but his
, slender figure did not promise any thing hke the

strength of the young cuirassier.

l Nevertheless, the moment the swords crossed,
Gabriel recognized that his foe was even a more
powerful man than himself, with muscles of
steel and an active hardihood, to which he
could make no pretensions.

Accustomed to find his own wrist the most
powerful, he was amazed to find his weapon
nearly forced from his hand, in the first parade
of the man in black, while only a leap back
saved him from a return thrust through the

bed .

The stranger kept advancing on him slowly,
with small motions of his sword, till Gahrld.
Count of Friedland, who had never met his
match till then, found himself driven back the
whole breadth of the loft, without flndin a
chance fora thrust, till he broke awa wit a
leap and made a fierce attack, striving to
close in.

And then, still more to his amazement and
mortification, he found himself disarmed at the
third while the man in black ' him
2‘; with a supple stren that left him no mt

chance, and there ay the Master of the
Horse, half-stunned, on his back, while the foot
of the man in black was on his chest, and the

int of a sword prickin the flesh right over
is heart. Gabrie thong t his last hour"
come, but he looked fiercely up, for all that,
facing his death like a man, and the stranger
called out: .

“Is it a fair fight or not? Have I taken a
foul advantage? Say that I have, and you can

a: fifw‘l'o‘ii “3;; 1 '

e ay m u

“Take my lif "is sakfi “You‘ve beaten

whim" ‘3?“ 

on to a In , m in
black withdrew his foot, throwaway his sword,
and walked away, while the young man slowly
rose to his feet, and said in a low tone:

“Why do you not kill me! It is your right
and privilege, man to man.”

The man in black had taken a seat at the
table and was watching him in a singularly
keen fashion, swinging one foot to and fro, and
humming a low tune.

“I don’t care to kill you,” he said coldly.
“Had you denied my victory, I would he”
con nered you a second time and killed you;
but cannot kill a brave man.”

“Then what are on going to do?” asked the
young man, puzzl by this stran e behavior.

‘ Ihave told on what I must do. t is my duty.
I cannot flinc from it, except I am unable to

rform it.” -

“ You are unable to perform it,” retorted the
man in black sharply. “You owe me your
life. It is mine to take if I will. If you inform
any one of these passages and so lead to my ar-
rest, you are a man 0 ingratitude, a coward,
unfit to be a French soldier. .Go now from thh
place. Do as you please. Do your duty as you

' call it, if you think best. I shall not stir from
here. This palace was not built by vclr
canaille 'of the French people. but by the King
of France. You have no right in its sect-eh
You have obtained them by atrfck, frightening
an old man. Now add treachery toyour other
crimes like him you serve. I have 5 red your
life. nd a company to take ,mine if you will,
I tell you I shall not go away.’

His eyes seemed to shoot forth fiamt- at
Gabriel, while he spoke. and the young man
hardlv knew what to do at first. -

Finally he picked up his sword by the blade
and tendered it to the man in black,

“ There is only one way out of this dilemma
that I see ” uotb Gabriel uieily. “ Take your
right and in 1 me. ll e oih think we are
right. Neither will yield. Kill me, then.
you do not..I must do my duty.” .

The man In black looked at him in the same
keen fashion as before and took the sword.

“If I do not kill you,” he said, “ what will
you do?” '

“ I shall go to the Tuileries and inform the am-
pemr of these secret passages from which his
enemies have practiced on him with apretended
specter.”

The man in black laughed sneeringly.

 

 

l 2L:

-‘

The Mannheim

 

 

“ And if i kill you?”

“Then, as I as d before, I shall be missed and
you will be found out at last.”

The man in black suddenly threw down the
reword.

“ I cannot kill you. Perhaps I am a fool.
But there are other places in the world. This
Bona does not rule everywhere. I will
make a bargain with you.” '

“ What is it?”

“ I will go away from here. Give me your
word to keep the secret of these passages and I
use them no more.”

Gabriel hesitated.

“ But others may use them.”

“Ipromise for all. Will you do the same?
Come, I don’t want to kill you, but I must pro-
tect myself.”

“‘I will romise,” said Gabriel, slowly, “ but
your frien s must leave the emperor alone. ”

The man in black laughed bitterly.

“ You need not fear. He will bring his own
fate on his own head. Turn your back, count
ten. then look round.”

Gabriel did as directed. When he wheeled
round the loft was empty. The stranger had
vanished like a spirit.

CHAPTER XIII.
rm: armx or m cossacrs.

WI: must take a journey now.

Awa from the sunny vineyards and whiten-
‘ing fle ds of Fair France, over the Rhine, the
Neckar, and the Elbe, past the gloomy deflles of
the Forest of Thuringia, the fertile meadows of
Saxony, across the marshy wastes of the Vis-
tula, and into the vast een solitudes of the
Ukraine, in the month 0 June.

Around us lies a level plain, flat as the sea in
a dead calm, without a sin le swell to mar the
uniformity; and all this p sin is knee-deep in

ass and flowers, as far as the dim horizon.

Notahillock brea s the monotony; but for
all that there is noth ng dull in the prospect,
when one is on the ste pa; for there is a sense
of freedom about the imitless expanse, a keen,
tingling) pleasure in every breath of the r-
iunred reese that reminds one of the sai or’s
feelings when he is out of sight of land, with a
ca ful of wind blowing.

ad for variety there is plenty of it, for
there are at least three hundred different
ies of flowers in eve acre of surface; and

e wild bustards and rikens are aging
out of the covert on every side, w le the
steppe hare goes scuddin away like a flash
when he hears the hoofs o the horses, the fal-
co‘a‘hbvers in the blue sky overhead, and afar
08 we can hear the lowing of cattle, and catch
sight of little clouds of smoke, that tell of Cos-
sack encampments.

It was through the midst of this 9611 ocean
of vegetation, in the year 1812, t t a little
party of horsemen came riding at a gallop in
the month of June.

They were all mounted on the hardy steppe
110'“! Mt run half-wild winter and summer,
“defy the wolves, be'th everso hun .

v" ‘ were galloping.” i they had bu just

ont,‘t 0 air horses were reeking
with sweat, and t ey all wore a sortof military
dress, which could hardly be called uniform,
but was decidedly warlike.

The leader was a young man in a green jacket,
heavily laced with gold, with two rows of em-
broidered cartridge cases on his breast and an
Astrachau cap on his head with a red top and

ld tassel. His big crimson trowsers were

hrust into big brown boots, and he wore terri-
ble spurs, while his ay shawl sash was stuck
fullof pistols, of whic be had six. He were no
sword. but carried a hen whip in one hand
with a short handle and a h six or seven feet
101g, in the shape of a snake.
is companions had pistols, lances, and a
dress of similar shape but of all colors, and they
were no spurs, but carried whips of the same
pattern. -

Presently the young man called out:

" What smoke is that ahead of us!"

“It is the sotnia of Nikolai Ivanovitch, lit-
tle father.” said one of the Comacks. “ He 3].
ways has a hundred horses ready for the Czar’s
flrvicefi

"‘80 much the better,” returned the Ming
man, lightly; “ for this iellow I l'l"l¢~ mu. hav‘
had a cow for his nurse, he mews so awk-
wardl .”

To lure the poor animal was laboring,r
heavily, for it had been ridden twenty miles in
an hour and a quarter, but the young man was
not wont to regard the sufferings horse-flesh
much, bein one of the Czar’s co icrs. whose
busine it s to kill horses by the score if there-
by they can save an hour from St. Petersburg
to Odessa. '

So he dug in his s urs‘and brou ht down his
heavy whip on the ank of the iitt e black horse
he rode, and the game creature answered gal-
lantly, while the smoke ahead rose higher and
higher, clear of the grass, till they could see the
hoe-hive shaped felt tents of the Cossacks, who
in those days cam out like the Tartars.

Into the camp ey rode. and found a ood
hundred tents scattered about, with h of
cattle, sheep and horses feeding about on the

 

:call for much attention beyond the fact of

 

steppe. Out of the felt tents came runnin the
tall, muscular CossaCks, recognizing the uni orm
of the courier and callin to each other:

“ Get harass quick! he Czar’s messenger has
come!”

From the principal habitation of the village
came, too, atall old man with a long white beard,
who saluted the courier as he rode up, and
asked:

“ What is the news, Vassili Mattiovitch?”

“ The Czar calls on his children to run to
arms,” cried the Courier, in a loud voice, so that
all could hear him. -

Then he ulled from his belt a big parchment
and read a oud:

“Ax.mxnsa. C'zar of the tlro RUM/m, Archangel,
Ii'ier, Toholsk, [l‘kf/ulo'k Grim Tartary, and lord
Of all the true belierers, to his Childri n :

“ Your emperor calls you to arms to re 1 the in-
vaders. The holy soilo Russia is about 0 be re-
faned by the Wicked French, who, having ed
gieirmown king, wish to rule over the people of

use .

“ To arms, my children, and drive the invaders
home. as you once did the ferocious Your
emperor calls you! Will you desert him?

‘ Especially, you Cossacks of the Don and Dnie~
per, you Zaporovians of the free commonwealth,

on men who have conquered Siberia, and on whose
ances rests the crown of Russia.-

“Fly to arms. The Cossacks willunlte at Smo-
lensko, under their Ataman Platoff. God save
Russia! nan."

The reading of this proclamation was greeted
with a wild shout 0 joy, and the Cossacks
roared:

“ God save the Czar! Death to the French!
God save the Czar!”

'Then ihey began to hug each other and dance
for joy, till they were recalled to duty by the
voice of their old Ataman, or Headman, who
roared out:

“What are you fooling about? Cossacks, the
edict is all read through and you are not yet in
the saddle! Scatter and get the horses. We’ll
be the first at the meeting place of Smolensko."

And then, without so much as stop ing to
kiss their wives and children, the h war-
riors of the steppe ran off to the herd of orses,
began to select their animals and lead them up.
so that in lem than two minutes after the
courier had thrust the ukase back in his belt,
the whole cam was a scene of hustle and mar-
tial ardor, in t 'e midst of which, Vassili Matti-
oviteh threw himself on a fresh horse and al-
W away with a couple of Cossacks on of

hand. to carry the news over the ste
that the Emperor of the French was advan ng
to violate the soil of Russia.

And then, out of the ataman’s huge felt tent.
s‘esiped a tall, thin man, with a pointed chin
an very dark eyes, who said quietly to Nikolai
Ivanovitch:

“ I told you that it would come soon. I knew
the man better than you did.”

The old ataman shook his head: '

“I did not believe it ible. No one has
dared enter Rania since t e Swede, and he had
to flee without an army." ~

“This man is as bold as Charles III. and
brin ten times as strongnan army with him,"
repl the thin man. “ e will go to Moscow
and take it.” .

The ataman curled his lip proudly,

“Not to Moscow. We will bury his army
lonTgl before he gets there, lord general.”

e pale man shook his head. A

“ I tell you he will‘ get to Moscow and take
up his lodging in the Kremlin, Nikolai.”

Then the Cossack laughed aloud.

“ Ah, now I know' you jest, lord general.

 

None but a Russian prince ever slept in the
Kremlin, save as a prisoner. You are joking
with me. because I am a simple Cossack, 10
general.”

“Indeed I jest not,” re lied the other in a 1
tone of great gravity. “ reat trials are...com- ‘
ing on Russia, Nikolai. You will see more dead
men this year than you have ever seen before,
and we shall be beaten again and again. The ‘
man who is coming is a wonderful warrior. I
have watched him from a boy, and know his
Very heart. ”

The Russian looked respectfully at the other,
though there was nothing in his appearance to

his extreme meagerness.

He was «ii‘i-ssol in 11 sort of half military cos~
tume, hut without anus, and'wore the stars of
a general on his oollnr.

“ You are a learned man, general,” said the
ataman humbly. “\Ve Russians can make a
Charge. but you men of the west know much .
more than we. Do you really think the French
wull reach our sacred‘Mosoow 7”

“ I am sure of it. Nikolai, so sure that, if I
had the command—” -

‘3 And Will? not. general?" asked the ataman,
qmckly. “ The Czar knows that we Russians, ;
while we .can light. are not generals. and he
takes foreigners. There are Barcla de 'lclly :
and Wittgenstein, and more has des. You
might have the best command of all-J

The general shook his head.

“Not this time, Nikolai. It is true they
have treated me vilely; but I cannot t
them myself, though I know the time iscom g

 

‘ and the Grand A

 

fl

for them to fall. I will watch and advise, but
after all, your armies will not beat them,
though they will be beaten.”

Nikolai stared.

“Not our armies? Then what will?”

“ Russia,” replied the eneral slowly.
winter, the snow, the co d.”

Nikolai looked horrified

“The winter! What, do you mean that we
cannot drive them out all this summer and
autumn l”

“ I do, Nikolai."

“ Then b the beard of Czar Ivan the Terri-
ble, genera , I‘ll show you that for once you
are wrong.”

“How, Nikolai?”

The Cossack smiled proudly and waved his
hand toward the fast mastering troops of his
lancers of the steppe.

“my will show him, general. Our men
met his cuirassiers once at Eylau, and we

red them from their horses like so many
3:: in a pasture."

“ es, in a snowstorm, by surprise; but the
ut you to flight at Friedland, as I have
ikolai.”

The ataman colored slightly.

“Yes, I’ll own they checked us there with a
single regiment: but then they were devils.
They were all black horses, men, armor, did
all; and our fellows thought there was a curse
on them. Have you ever seen that resin-at,
general! They called them the Demon Cuirssa
siers at Friedland.”

“ I saw them at Tilsit.”

“ A , ay; but we will beat them, forallthat.
this me.

“You will not, Nikolai. The winter will.
but as long as they have their horses, your men
can never face them on the field.”

The ataman tossed his head as if he did not
believe it, and just at that minute,a Carack
brought up a horse for each of the chiefsv-for
the general seemed to be known in such apa-
cit —and the mounted without more ado and.
r e outof t e cam , kingtheroad—onlya
cow-track, half hi en in gram—that led to,
Smolensko.

Three hundred men. on wiry little horses; a
forest of lances gleaming in the sun; the
sacks sin g together one of their old war
son , in ion of a bend of music, to the scam»
pan ment of a kettle-de and a small :
on they swept at a rapid amble, lea the
women and children to look after the tents in
their absence.

As the 1-- st wreath of smoke faded on,“
horizon behind them, the general said:

“Nikolai, you will not see the camp again,
till on have seen ” .

" much the better,” was the answer.»-

CHAPTER XIV.
ran mrcn or m own ms. .

“ You ha ve but one positive order- keepyous-
horses fresh, and collect all the fo ' yen am.
one

The Cossacks are a mere rabble; let
“$an ““ “TIE? “"1 2“" a.
er was ng o -

son, and was addressing Count Gem!!!“-
la d, as beset on his b black horse at an
si e of the road, where h division of cavalry
was massed, waiting the order to mount. ’

For Gabriel had reocivod another step in Isa
ladder of promotion at the beginnin of he
great Roman camdpaiin, and had two e W
sand cuirassiers un er is orders. .

The King of Naples was in his element tint
day. Never had such a force been collected in
Elu'opf since the days of Attila and the Bus.

El ty thousand caval , twelve handed
guns and a half a million 0 men in armsoovera
ed the face of the country and one might ride'
a whole day at full speed without getting out of
sight of the dense eoium
march.

The en‘peror’s head—quarters were at Thorn
rmy was crossing the Niamsn.

0n the other side lay the territory of R
not profaned for a century back by the foot
an euem . -

Gabi-is could see the glitter of bayonet:
stretching out to the horizon in front, rm". afar
as he could see in the rear were the white-tilts
of the wagons.

T ey crossed the Niemen on five bridges N
the steady stream of men kept on passing from

“ The

 

nsofmenonfie

\

dawn till dark. long after the cavalry hd ‘

spread over the face of the country in front.

There were French. P ~
Austrian contingents in that Grand Am and
the Italian troops had come with- the King of
Naples so that three distinct languages .anda
dozen different dialects were required by
staff officer who hoped to communicate wi
all.

It seemed as if such a vast host must over”
whelm the country into which they were

russian, Saxon and v

entering, and in truth they eat up everything .

on the road.

The cavalry, bei in advance, had,the M
of the journey, for ey came into fresh terri-
tory, but already there were symptom! tint
their march won (1 meet serious tion.

The Count of Friedland had the advance of
the heavy cavalry and marched nearly thirty

 

..‘a... a

7......" .

)5: .-

~.

12

l

The Mania Red.

 

miles the first day without seeing any foe till
near sunset, when he heard shots in the advance
and prett soon a hussar came in at a trot to
say 'that t e extreme advance had been fired on
and roughly handled by a number of wild-
looking savages who seemed to attack without
order, each man on his own responsibility.

. Nevertheless, they had killed three of the

Eighth Hussars, wounded a score more, and

carried off two oflcers prisdners, leaving only
One dead man behind.

Then the young general ordered out two regi-
ments to occupy the roads for five miles ahead
and disclosed the fact that the Cossacks were
only about three hundred in number.

And these three hundred had given a check
to the advanced guard of twelve thousand cui-
rassi and a regiment of light cavalry.

“ ecidedly,” said the count, in a thoughtful
tone that evening, “ these fellows have learned
a Food deal from us in the Friedland cam-
pa

7)

If: was addressing no one particuarly, but,
as usual, his orderly, Casse Tote, took up the
parable and answered:

“ Very true, my general. They are not good
for much out of their own country, but any
cock will fight on his own dunghill. And one
must admit the country is only a dunghill. Not
a. hill higher than a mole’s nest. But they live
here, after all. Will 1your honor stop at that
house for the night? t looks as if it had a good
kitchen.”

He indicated a let? mansion ahead of them,

ounded by farm uildings, that had an air

0 comfort and opulence contrasting with the
ble huts they had seen so far. It looked

fire the home of some great Russian lord, and
the count indicating his approval, the old soldier
trotted of! to prepare is master’s quarters,
while Gabriel issued orders for the encamp-

‘ must of the division for the night.

Oasse Tete rode up to the mansion he had
selected and found it surrounded by ards full
of cattle and sheep, with a number 0 Russians
at work feeding thaanimals for the night.

They looked at him with a mixture of sullen.
nee: and stupidity in their glances that showed
how unwelcome was his visit, but offered no
Iopposition as he rode up to the door of the

01.0.

The fact that oficers’ servants to the number
of near a hundred were roaming about round
the house, and that the regiments were going
into Quip in the fields close by, had its effect
on his reception, but no one came out of the
:g‘or, though Casse Tete shouted till he was

rse. \
Finally he 'got ofl his charger, tied it to a

, and entered the open doorwa , when he
was at once hailed in French from t e end of a

“ hat 0 you want here, soldier? Get out i"

Casse Tete drew his belt a little round, loos-
ened his sword, and called out:

“ Who the devil are you? Come out here and
let’s see you, The General Count of Friedland
booming here to take up his quarters for the
night, so no nonsense."

‘ The general count an lodge in the fields,”
rotor-ted the voice, and a stout ray-headed
man came slowly forward. “ e Princess
goktgrofl is not obliged to lodge French reb-

rs.

. He a regular Russian, in a sheep-skin
coat and lack velveteen trowsers thrust into
hishoots, but he spoke French like an educated

man.
Dane Tote frowned ferociously at him.
“French robbers, ehl Well, which do you
prefer—to lodge the general and have a guard
put on all your property, or to have the place
[inn up to the men?”
The gray-headed man shrugged his shoulders.
“ You rob us anyhow,” he answered, “and
Impose we shall have to submit to it. But

,never mind. Your turn will come before you

' stllsst manner, “and does

get to ow."

“ Where is the Prince. Doktoroffl” asked
Cases Tote, sharply, “ You’re an old fool, and
don’t deserve civil treatment, but I am sure the
lad has better muse."

old Russian looked amased and shocked
at the idea of a French soldier asking to see the
princess.

“ Her highness is indisposed,” he said, in the
not ve audien to
anyone. Iam her steward, attias'll' cro-
vitch. Icantransnctalithenecessarybull-

nest.”

Cane Tote had grown too impatient for fur-
ther questi . This Russian did not seem to
have the least ear of him as an enemy, and he

the clatter of acoouterments in the yard
outsidei ,ifrom whiich he udlggii his "monster gas
coma mexpectngto n s u rsrea .
So geese Tote seized the old (ltussian by the

' throat. shook him hard and roared:

\

" Old pig, call out yourgservants and get din-
nerread%at once or I’ll run you through the
m. d e want fa dozen won}; at onlpe with

a su per or twenty. oyou ear

The assign turned pu le with re 0 and

struggled hard. but Casse etc held h in like

a Vise, and presently the old man gasped:
“ Let me go.

I’ll do as you wish.”

, once.”

 

Then Casse Tote released him, and Mattias
was as good as his word, for at his call a score
of servants came running out, and when Count
Gabriel rode into the court-yard and dismount-
ed, he found everything ready as if at a hotel,
and Mattias Feodorovxtch was bowing at the
door and welcoming him in good French.

The general entered the house and was taken
up to a large and very sumptuously. furnished
saloon, where Mattias requested the officers to
wait, and informed them that dinner should be
served immediately.

Then he disappeared, and the young count
began to examine the articles in the room with
considerable curiosity, for it struck him with
surprise to find so much luxury in the midst of
a country where the people, as a rule, lived in
mud hovcls. ‘

The first thing which attracted his attention
was a large pertrait of a lady which hung near
a window.

It represented a beautiful dark-haired wo-
man, With a stately, commanding presence; but
what struck him most was the fact that the
features were to him quite familiar, though he
could not tell where he had seen them.

Captain Lutouche, of the Death’s Head Cui-
rassiers, a gay young Gascon on his staff, no-
ticed the attention with which he looked at the
picture, and said:

“A fine woman, general. I could fancy a

man losi his heart to such a being easily
enough. at she does not look like a Rus-
man

“No,” said Gabriel, thoughtfully. “ If' it
were not for the national dress Icould swear
that was a Frenchwoman. Ask the steward
who she is.”

Mattias coming in very soon afterward, the
captain made the inquiry, and the steward an-
swered respectfully:

“ That’s the gracious princess, Olga Doktorofl,
sir, the owner of this estate.”

” Is she here now i" asked Gabriel.

“ The princess is indisgose ” was the stifl
re ly, “and sees no one. am her stewhrd."

aptain Latouche looked at his chief, and
seeing encouragement in his eye. said to the
steward:

“The general wishes to see the princess if
she consents. You will take her the message at

“Yes,” added Gabriel: “tell her we do not
wish to insist if she be really ill, but we desire
to pay our respects and to ascertain what prop-
erty she wishes specially protected.”

“ I can tell you that,” quickly answered the
old steward, “ without troublirg—J’

“ Do asI tell you,” retorted abriel, sharply,
“ and take care you give the messa e as I give
it to on. I desire to see the noose. M
ntarii’ie General, the Count of riedland.

c

He began to be suspicious of the constant de-
nial of the rincess, and wanted to see if he
could remem r who she was.

Mattias looked frightened and obeyed.

Presently he came back, looking very humble
and subdued, and said:

' “ Her highness will receive you, general.”

The general was followin him when there
arose a great noise in some 0 the inner regions
of the house, with the voice of Casse Tete rs
in anger, and almost immediately the cuirassier
burst into the saloon, driving before him with
blows of the fist of his saber, a stupid-looking
Russian cook, and roaring out:

“Poison us all, will you?”

CHAPTER XV.
m rmcnss oma.

" Wnsr means this, Forton ?" cried the young

neral, angrily, as his factotum drove the

ussian into the room. “ How dare you come
in like that?”

Casse Tote knew, when his master called him
“ Forton." that he was an ; and it was neces-
m to justify himself, so e saluted and an.
swer‘éd respectfully:

“ Pardon, my eneral, but we are in the one-
m ’s country, an it is necessary to be cautious.
I ound this fellow in the kitchen utting poison
in the dishes meant for your onor, and I
brought him up to know what we should do
with him.”

The oflicers of the stafl looked at each other

vel , and Captain Latouche mattered to
apts n Bochefort:

‘ The devil! This war will be no joke.”

The young general. however, took another
view, for he turned to the steward, who was
very pale, and said to him:

“Ask this man whether he wants to poison
us in reality. I don’t believe it.”

The stew'ard spoke in Russian to the cook,
who answered something in a sullen wa , when
Mattias Feodorovitch dealt him a soun box on
the ear and began to scold him in Russian.

Count Gabriel interrupted him:

“Never mind talking to him. Tell me, did
he really want to poison usi”

" I’m afraid he did, excellency; but indeed it
was without orders, and I have scolded him for
it ’

 

.He spoke as coolly as if the man had only been
detected in a petty theft, and added:

about to do.

 

“ If your excellency will let him'
that he is Whipped soundly.”

But here the officers began to grumble so
loud about “ the example ” that Gabriel cut the
matter short by ordering the  to the guard-
tent and then said to his sta :

“ will rejoin you at dinner, gentlemen. Casse
Tete, see to it thyself. We cannot afford to
trust these fe110ws. N ow, Monsieur Feodoro-
vitch, lead on to the presence of the princess.”

But here again Casse Tcte, with his accus-
tomcd freedom, burst out:

“ You should not go alone. my general. If
the servants try to poison us, the mistress may
have a dozen cut-throats hid in her boudoir.
Let me go with you at least.”

“ Attend to th duties, Forton, and keep thy
tongue still if t ou dost not wish to be sent
back to France,” answered his master, sternly.

“To France. Igy general?” retorted the in»
corrigible Casse ete. “ No such luck for us
till next year, I’m afraid.”

“Silence, and o to the kitchen i” cried the
general, irritated eyond endurance.

Casse Tete saluted and vanished. ‘

Then Gabriel followed the steward up and
down stairs and passages, till they came to an-
other saloon, into which he was ushered, while
the Russian pronounced the words:

“The Count of Friedland, madame.”

Gabriel advanced, saying:

" I deeply regret, madame, to put to incon-
venience a lady of your rank and distinction,
but war has no rules, you know.”

He had got thus far when he saw ihe lady's
face plainly for the first time. and stammered:

“ Pardon'me—but—I am sure I have seen you
before, madame.”

It was the original of the
and the figure seemed
familiar.

She was a lady, that was clear from the ease
of her manner, as she answered:

“That is very possible, monsieur. In fact, it
was only because I kr.ew‘who you were, that I
consented to receive you. You are not like the
rest of this parVenu em ror’s court. You have
the old blood in your veins.”

Gabriel drew himself up, for it was agahist-
his rinciples to hear the emperor abused.

“ ardon, madame,” he observed; “ but there
is a rank conferred W ge‘pius which is superior
to that of blood. 6 l honor Charisma so
far more than his impotent descendants, an it
is the enius, not the blood of Peter of Russia
that yes him the name of Great.”

The lady smiled.

“I will not argue the point about the Cssr
Peter, who was a rude old savage; butl no t I
am lad to see you, because you have t 9 old
bl in our veins. Your father—”

“My ether,” he interrupted, “died for the
Republic, madame. and than is nothin in the
blood of asimple chevalier that is be than
that of a citinen.”

" Yet you are a count,” she objected, with a
mocking smile.

“ Count of a battlefield, madame. Ournobfllty
of the empire earn their titles as aid the Pala-
dins of Charlemagne, by the sword. A century
hence, our descendants me be as lasy as those-
of the French noblesse of o d times.”

The ncess 1 ed at him in a manner
indicating curiosity.

“ Do you know, she said, “ I have not heard
such ta k as that for a long time, count. And
yet I was born in France.”

“ It is eas to tell that, madame.”

“ Why? y accent. I an pose.”

“Partly but I knew it fore I heard you
speak. in ame.”

“ Indeed?” .

“Certainly. As soon as I set can on your
Egrtrnit in t e saloon, I said thatl damn you

fore, and all in staff agreed that you had the
true French air.’

“ Their penetration and yours were both
admirable. But you must also remember that
I am a Russian now. and that my husband com-
mands an army against you."

go, I‘ll see

rtrait down-stairs,

0 him still more

“I had heard so, madame. In V for
him and you both I have ordered s placed
on all your property, to pro it from

pillage."

H Ycu are exceedingly kind, monsienr. And.
now let me ask you why did you [come to this
coun‘ try?”

“ To take Moscow." '

“ You will never take it, count.”

“ On the contrary, madame, we shall not onl
take it, but hold it, unless your friends burn t

before we t there."
“And {by chance you get there, you will
never get c alive.”

“ We shall see, madame. But I didn’t crave .
the honor of seeing you to boast of what we are
It was in truth to tax my mem-
cry, in sight of your face, and to find out where
I had actually seen you before.”

She smiled in the same mocking wa .

“ And you think you have seen me ’

“ I am sure of it, and in Paris; but I cannot
{gmem’ber the Princess Doktoroif as being over

ere.

“ The Princess Doktoroif never was there, my
dear count.”

 

 

A

o

The. Man in 

a._--_-_..___ .._....a-_._ “a .. a. ..._._.. .__._._-.~__.—_ ..._.——.—-——\

' is

 

 

“ Ah, then you have been married recently,
princess. 1 wish I could tell where I saw you."
“ You need not  You will never know;
but 1 have seen on fore. and even spoken to
you, though at t time I was Wearing a dis-
uise.”

"A disguise! Was it at the masked ball, by
chance!" I

" It was not. I do not need a mask to dis-
guise me. But never mind, count. You say

our ofiicers are with you here. I am sorry for

at. for I wished to invite you to dinner and I
don't care to welcome any but those of the old
blood. I am, as on see, a good rank Legitimist,
so far as I am a renchwoman.”

“ I believe there are a few ladies left of that
persuasion,” lau hed Gabriel, “ but they are
all emigrants. n France we no longer cry for
the moon.” _

“And yet," answered the rincess, quietly,
“ if I were to tell you that, this da two years,
Louis XVIII. would reign in the uileries, you
would an I was mad.”

“ I decidedly should. The emperor is the first
man in Europe, and when he has taken Moscow
in will have no enemies left.”

The princess shrugged her shoulders.

“ You will see when it is too late that I have
told you the truth, and then, if you wisha place
at court, you can remember that I have prom-
ised you my infiience with the king. You know
I have the 'ft of prophecy in me, and never
make mista es.”

Gabriel could not help smiling.

" I never knew but one person like you, who
gpre’clided to the ith.”

She started slig tly.

“ Who was that?”

“A madman, who obtained accem to the em~
peror’s tent at Wagram and told him that he
should die a prisoner on a rock in the ocean.”

“A madman, you say! Why mad?”

“Because his prophecy was absurd.”

“‘ But when it is fulfilled, what then?” "

'“ 1 f it is fulfilled you mean—not when.

“Well, if—” n

“Then I should say he was a wonderful man.

 

CHAPTER XVI.
nononmo.

GABRIEL did not find out to his own satisfac-
‘tion who the flames was and where he had
seen her; but 6 was not poisoned at her house
and departed next mornigf for Wilna, towar
which the m rch tend . where the serious
work of the campaign 0 ned.

Everywhere the Gran Army met, the Rus-
sians, and everywhere the ussians fought
them hard, falling back from one strong place
to another.

The heavy cavalry found no enemy to meet
’them in a charge, but the Cossacks hoverei
round them all the while, and, everywhere
they went, clouds of smoke ahead showed
where the Russians were burning haystacks
and wheat ricks.

The oung count obs ed his orders in the
stricth way, makin men walk and lead
their horses, and ng the animals all the op-
portunity to graze that he could. but in spite
of all his efforts he had the mortification to. see
the big chargers that used to tramp so roudly
along, growing thin and glodding sto idly on
the road to Moscow, with t eir heads down.

The campaign that had opened with such
high hopes seemed to be doomed to be one
which would destroy the heavy cavalry with-
out a ht.

Butt earm reached Wilna and advanced
on Witepak, where they found lar magazines
of rain, and all seamed to sm e on them

n.
‘gft had taken a month to get to Witepsk, and
that city was only half-way to Moscow.

And another ominous fact was that the em-
peror halted to reo also there, sent back dis-
mounted men, and ound that his cavalry had
shrunk from elyhty'to sixty thousand alread ,
of which rema nder nearly a third were not t
to char e.

This €00, without a serious battle, and they
heard that the three separate armies of the Bus-
sians had united at Smolensko to oppose them,
under General Barclay de 0" -
dermis” division at this p ce won a rare

18 n ‘oa from the em eror.

Hisoga ty praised 1them in orders for the
3119  of their horses, and the .praise
made every cavalry eneml in the army Jealous
0' tha “’3' Count of Eriedland. ,

In all this time the old Death’s Head Cums-
siers, of which Gabriel was so proud, had re-
mained quietly on the march, as the personal
escort of their general; and their horses were
the fattest in the command.

From Witepsk, after a few days‘ they moved
out. The Russians were actually advancing
from {Smolensko toattack them and the vete-
rans of the Grand Army to crack ~0ka

,“ Now we shall have a c ones. As ong as
these devils burn the food we have to go slow;
but now they'll have to Starve as well as we.”

And y did have a chance to see the enemy
llfmfigh him at last, from which
I

 

ensued ates more twelve thousand
W womb in Villa! the sound a? headed by the old Dcaili’s Heads, were moving

musketry and cannonading was never out of
their ears, till the excitement of contest died
away and one could see the soldiers shrugging
their shoulders with an air of despair ev
time they ha i an order to move forward, w e
one said to the other:

“ No rest for us nowadays, and what does it
all amount to? We kill them, and more come
on. It is disgusting."

Still, to the general emcers, who had maps,
and knew what was going on, it was plain-that
the army was advancing—slowly perhaps but
still advancing.

In the first month they t from Grodnoto
Witepsk—two hundred an forty miles: the
second took them from Witepsk to Smolensko,
only eighty; the third was one continuous series
of sma l ttles, on a line two hundred miles
long, till the Grand Arm found itself at last,
wit in a day’s ride of oscow. on the little
river Moskwa, with the whole Russian army
barring the we at the village of Borodsk,
which the Frenc called Borodino.

And here at last Gabriel. Count of Friedland,
on the 7th September, 1811, found himself in a

itched battle, for the first time since he ined
is title in 1807 at the head of his old regiment.

The tide of battle had been ebbing and flow,
ing all day with varying succem, and still the
Russians held their own, by dint of a huge re-
doubt in the Center of their line, from which
wave after wave of French infantry had re-
cohed, shattered and bleeding.

Gabriel had been standing by his men on the
summit of a little billock, watching the contest,
which seemed tobe trembling in the balance
all da ; and. for the first time since he had
cros the Niemen, began to think to himself
that the Grand Army might have to retreat
and never see Moscow, after all.

The streams of wounded men and the strag-
glers going to the rear were getting heavxer
every moment, and things began to look bad
for the French as far as could be seen, for the
smoke that covered the field: when a staff
ofiicer came galloping up, and called out:

“You’re [going to have a chance. count.”

“Glad o it. said Gabriel, and he really
meant it; for he and all his men had been chaf-
ing at their enforced idleness, while the infant-
ry and the hussars had been in action every

da .

Gut the staff ofiicer went on his way, and still
no order came.

Gabriel could see, through his glass, the em—
peror on a hill, sitting down in a campchair
contrary to his usual custom, and he heard
from another officer, whom he stopped as he
passed by, that his majesty was very ill that
day, and suffered much pain. No one then
knew or suspected that it was the first attack of
that terrible cancer in the stomach of which his
father had died before him, and which was ulti-
mawa to carr him oil! at fifty years of age, in
the torments 0 hell.

Only the wavering line of battle, to the dis.
cerning eye of the oung general showed the
waning force of ge us.

“ His majesty s not fi hting in his usual way
to-day,” he thought to h msel .

Then he saw a general ofilcer rideu to the
giinperor, and salute as if he were ng to

m.

Through the glass Gabriel saw the t man

nod his head, and then the officer das ed awa ,
coming straight t0ward Gabriel’s division. T e
young count knew him by sight as Auguste de
Caulaincourt, who had been married at Paris
only twenty days before he started for the Rus-
sian campaigln.

He knew t at the count was 00min for him,
and mounted his whole division to ready.
They were goinf to move, but where.

Before them ay a field full of infantry, with
a line of fortifications lined with fire and smoke.
That was the place for infantry. for no one
ever heard of cavalry storming fortifications.

But very soon (young Caulaincourt came
dashing up and sai to he astonished cuiras-
sier: -

“General, his majesty directs that on
storm that redoubt w ith your division. 9
Young Guard will follow you; but it must be
taken at any cost. ” '

For one moment Gabriel felt his heart stand
still. He had seen five amults on that redoubt
hurled back already, and he knew _that it
mounted twenty pieces of artillery. besides be-
ing‘lined with infantry. .

he walls were mounds of earth, With a
broad ditch, barely practicable for a horseman
in cold blood, and it was into that ditch and up
that mound that his cuirassiers had to climb to
reach the enemy.

Then he set his teeth firmly. and said to Can-
laincourt:

" Very good, general. Do you wish to go
along with us.”

‘j Of course," was the instant reply. “ I
should not bring an order of this kind if I did

* not expect to see it carried out under my own
n

“'You shall see it, monsieur.”
Then he gave the orders, and in a few min-
ant horsemen.

 

at a alashingtrot over the plain of Borodino,
they were swallowed up in the smoke.

The infantry shouted to see them come, and
they heard the drums beati behind them
while from the front the fire onbled and the
patter of bullets on the cuirasea and helmets
sounded like hailstones in a forest.

Every now and then came the horrible
“swish-sh-sh ” of a volley of Wot, fol-
lowed by the thud of the striking and the
crigsdof men knocked from their orses, maimed
an ying.

The ranks of the Death’s Had Cuiraders
looked dark and ragged, and the officers ke
shouting to the men to “ close up,” but still t

gaps continued and broke out in fresh places.
as fast as closed up.

The first squadron was nearlv no, and the
regiment was reduced to half the dth with

which it had ridden out. The other regime
behind it were broken up into parties that rode
on as best they could.

But still on they went, Gabriel ahead of his
whole division,'young Caulaincourt abreast of
him, a s uadron away, and before them
the broa ditch, while on the further side rose
the tall green mound, fringed with fire.

The Russians fired faster than ever, but their
bullets went overhead now, and with a wild
shout of fury the mailed horsemen rode into the
ditch, climbed the green mound, and burst into
the redoubt like a t; rrent.

And then came a great hush over the field of
battle. The Russian guns ceased to fire, the in-
fantr in the redoubt threw down their arms,
and t e battle of Borodino was won.

Cut in half and fea-rin for their baggage and

us. the Russians fell ok, and the road to

oscow was open.

CHAPTER XVII.
noscow.

Tm: Cairassiers of the Guard rode into Mos-
c0w on the 15th of Se tember and the first
thing they saw was a c curl of smoke from a
burning block of houses, while there seemed to
he hardly any people in the streets.

Captain Latouche had a dozen men with him,
who were the first to enter the city: and as
they passed on they were fired at from a crest
street ahead, bv a few Cossacks, who gall
awa on their fleet ponies, defying pursuit by
the eavy charges of the cuirassiers.

But the Grand Army had reached the long
expected city‘ of Moscow, and the great Em-

ror of the ranch took up his quarters in the

remlin, while the sappers put out the burning
houses, or pulled them down.

That night Cwnt Gabriel of Friedland, who
slept in the Kremlin as commander of the cavo
alry of the body-guard, was roused from his
sleep by Casse Tete, who said to him hurriedl 5

“Get up. my general, there is a fire in the
next room."

In fact the place was full of smoke, and they
had hardly time to get out before three roofins

were full of flames, which it took them some ‘

hours to uell.
Then al was quiet till the morning, when use
trains began to rumble into the town, a
garrisonwas set,'the army was put into cam
round the ci , and the French settled down
en by the fruits of their victo .
oscow was th '

no less heavily.

The hospitals were established, the Mid!
patrolled, convoys brought in and order no-
stored, and then came word to the Count 0!
Friedland that the emperor wanted to see him.

He found the after of Moscow in a grand,
picturesque old oon. where the Csars 0 Rue-
sia had been crowned from the fourteenth cui-
tury. The Man of Destiny looked loomy and
worried, as Gabriel had never seen im before.’

“Count,” be said. abruptly, as soon as the
young general entered the room, “ will ' elf
volunteer to take a flag to the Emperor -
ander for me!”

“ Certainly. sire, but I thou ht—”

He stopped, for he felt that e was too bag.
and the emperor’s cold stare showed he had
marked it.

“ I don’t want my emcers to think,
when they have no orders, count. You the t,
I suppose, that it was their place to send to us
since we have beaten them. Very wellhit
seems they are obstinate. The Turks used to be
the same in E ypt. We must make allowanms
air savages. am going to send a fiagtotha

sar. '

Then he paused and drummed on the table.
Evidently the em r was embarrassed. For
the first time in his life he found a foe he could-
n’t frighten, but who would fight after the
hope of victory was gone. The conqueror of
Borodino had not taken a gun that was not
disabled.

Presently he began again:

“I shall have to trust to your discretion“ 2

to expose our weakness.”

“ Our weakness. sire?"

“ Yes. HOW many men do you think Vi
haw left, fit for duty, count?” '

“ 'I‘ so hundred thousand, at least, sire.”

airs—at a ear cost—but it -
was theirs; and they had the satisfaction 01"
knowing that the Russians must have sufleud“

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. shaman Red- 1

 

~ ‘ “Note hundred and fifty. And the cavalry
is almost disabled. We shall have to forage, un-
less we get an armistice. The convoys have not

three days’ in.”
. Gabriel t his heart sink. He had not known
it was so '

“We can winter in Moscow,” continued the
emperor; “ but only if they do not disturb our
lines of supply. Therefore it is necessary to
secure a truce. You will go to the Emperor of
Russia, and ofler him peace from me. Here is
the letter. I’ll read it, that you may know
what is before you.”

He read out, with a voice that was not as
steady as usual, the first confession the Man of
Destiny had ever made that an enemy was not
to be beaten:

"SIRE, KY BROTHER," ran the note:

“I am weary of seeing the blood of brave men
sacrificed in vain.’ To what does it all tend but the
alienation of two brave nations, whose interests are
oust Let us be friends. Why should your majesty
cling to the cause of gerfidious England. when,
united. we can swee t e world? I am willing to

ve up the territory have acquired, and to retire

to Germany, if your majesty will make . I
will agree to help our majesty with three army
corps to con er urke ,and you can have (lon-
stantinople. erefore ask for an armistice, dur-
ing which our ministers can conclude a lasting
treaty of peace. throwers."

Gabriel listened silently, and the emperor said
as he folded‘the letter: ~

“Are you willing to go?”

“‘1 always obey orders, sire. "

“But I must warn you that you will incur
danger. These wild savages may not respect
' the flag.”

“In that case. sire they will disgrace the
Czar, and my death, if they kill me, will not go
unavenged.”

The emperor looked at him, for the first time
in all their intercourse, with a glance of some-
thing like real kindness.

“ You are a brave man, count," he said, slow—
1 . “ I wish all my supporters were as true to

chief.”

“Every soldier of the Grand Army would
willingly die for you. sire.”

“Yes, every soldier. But the marshals-
they wish to enjoy their honors. They grow

tired of war. Never mind. You will take the
' flag. The Russians are at Kaloga, to the south.
Our ckets are out ten miles on the road, and
the acks are just beyond. Apro count,
I hear our quarters were on fire ast night.
How di it happen?”

“No one knows, sire. It broke out in an

canng room.”

m!”

The em ror frowned thoughtfully, and
walked to t e window to look out.

Gabriel’s eyes followed his, and saw three col-
nmns of smoke rising in different quarters of
the city, while the as pets were hurrying
' through the streets and e bells were ringing

an .
And while he looked, the saw two hussars
come up the street toward he Kremlin, drag-
ging between them by the wrists a man with a
beard, who was running as hard as he
cos d, toavnid beingkdgc ged alon the ground.
Presen came a at the cor, and Du-
too on hastily.
“We have found where the fires come from,
” he cried, without any prelude. “ The ga-
mi has net as ht one of the savages at is
work. hat 8 l we do with him?"
“Shoot him,” answered the emperor coldly.
“ goat them like Turks, Duroc. 0 must
terror to them, for they understand
nothing else. Issue an order that for every fire
I will shoot a Russian, if one is to be found in
the city. We must stop this or be houseless.”
‘Dnroc vanished, and the emperor went on to

cl: .

“ You will take only a single man with you.

and of course use your e es on the way. If
see the emperor I thin he will treat; but
More may not let you see him.”

“I will do my best, sire.”

“The point is to procure an armistice. We
have taken Moscow you understand; and can
remain here if we please, but do not desire fur-
’ther eflusion of blood.”

‘ “ I understand, sire.”

Then Gabriel went to his quarters. called

Casse Tete and rode out of the city on the road

to Kalogla.

Came etc carried a lanes with a white ti
toiled round it and wore the uniform of his 01
re ment, but looked gloomy.

‘ Itis not the custom of the Grand Army to
ask for truces,” he had said to the count. “ Hith-
erto they have always granted them. But
times change, my general, and these Russians
a” savages.”

CHAPTER XVIII.
THE FLAG or TRUCE.
TB! young general and 051890 Tete rode rap-

 

flly away on the road to Kale a, passing camp
after camp of the infantry an huge parks of
artillery mid we gone.
The Grand Army was arm n magnifiwnt ‘
y in appearance, though one could note that

the uniforms were getting rag ed and dirty,
after the hot, dusty campaign hrough Which
the had passed. ,
he weather was warm and dry, and a thin
hare hung over the landscme, the grass lying
e.

brown an dry .by the road
The country was rolling and rett in out-
line, meltin toWa-rd the south, into he great

Black Eart lains of the Ukraine, of which
the}; had hear so much. '

hen they had ridden about five miles they
passed the last infantr camp, and the country
seemed to be entirely eserted.

The peasantry, it was to be remarked, had
vanished. Ever now and then they came on
a few low moun s of turf that they knew to be
the underground huts of the inhabitants; but
no smoke came from the .chimneys, and not a
soul was near them.

Three miles beyond this they saw a regiment
of hussars in camp. The horses at the icket
line were thin, anda number had sore cks,
while the men looked dirty and neglected.

They met an officer coming back with a
patrol, and he told them that the light cavalry
was retty well worked out.

“ t’s lucky we’ve taken MoscOw and can
afford to rest, general,” be remarked to Gabriel,
“for another week would have found us dis-
mounted. Have you heard anything of the

in wagons? e have been grazing the

orses for a month, and haven’t seen a bag of
eats all that time.”

Gabriel comforted him with the hopes of a
truce, and rode on.

A mile further they came to the picket re-
serve, and he saw that the sentry was dis-
mounted.

The ofiicer of the reserve told them that all
the pickets had orders to stand guard on foot to
save the horses.

“ The Cossacks are quiet enough,” he added,
“in the daytime, but at night they keep us
alive, and seem to have a spite against our
horses, for they have shot a. number. At this
rate we shall all be disounted before long.”

To a uestion as to the outside vedettes, he
answe that they were a little way off, on
foot, and that the nearest Russian post was
about two miles further.

As the two cuirassiers rode on, Gabriel could
not help a gloom forebodqu of evil in his
heart; and Casse etc, in his omely fashion,
began to moraline: ,

‘These Russians are different from the rest
of Europe, general and they have a country
that helps them. Iwish we Were well out of
it

“ So do I, Casse Tete,” Gabriel could not help
answering.

At last they came to the line of vedettes. who
looked at them with surprise. and the man on
the road said respectfully to Gabriel-

“ It is not safe to go any further, my general.
The Cossacks are over the hill yonder. ’

“ Then that is our destination," was the calm
to ly of Gabriel. “Show the flu , Casse Tete."

he cuirassier shook out the w ite folds, and
they rode forward, side by side, the full uni-
form of Gabriel and the stout, well-fed chargers
of both of them presenting a splendid appear-
ance, and telling nothin o the straits to which
the grand army was r uced already.

They trotted rapidly on to the l ttle hill of
which the vedette ad spoken, and surmounted
it in full view of a group of three Cossacks sit-
tingd on ghe ground by a fire, about a hundred
y s o .

The horses of these three men stood by them;
their lances were stuck in the ground, and they
seemed to be cooking their dinner.

Other little cups, at intervals of a quarter
of a mile, con d be seen dotting 'the landsca
all round and lining the road,for three mi es
back, to where a cloud of smoke announced a
larger encam ment.

No sooner id the two cuirassiers make their
appearance than the three Cossacks jumped up
and each picked up a musket from t e groan .

One of them ran to the middle of t 9 road
and leveled his musket.

Gabriel waved his hand. pointing to the
white flag, and pulled up his horse, shouting in
French:

“ It is a flag! a flag!” '

But the Cossack fired off his piece without
heading the cry, and the bullet went singing
past Gabriel’s head in very uncomfortable
proximity, and a moment later the other two
men fired also, but with such defective aim,
owing to the distance, that neither of the
Frenchmen was hurt.

Then Gabriel put spurs to his horse and
dashed down toward them, while they were
trying to reload, still pointing to the flag and
calling out the only Russian word he knew:

“ Stoi 1 Stm' !” [Stopi Stop 2]

His behavior had its effect even on the wild
savages of the Don. They saw he was not
afraid, and stop d the hurried loading of their
rusty old muskegle.

One of them began to s k Russian, as if
asking questions, and Ga riel answered ‘in
French:

" A img! a final Le'ter to the Our.”

He showed the Cossack the letter, kept point.

 

ing to the flag and making signs till the savage
suddenly seemed to understand what was want«
ed, and his face beamed all over with smiles-
Then he said to Gabriel something in Russian
which the la r could not understand, but took
to be an e lanation of his mistake, and the
matter end in one of the three Cossacks riding
03 toward the encampment at full speed, while
the emissary of the French emperor was fain to
wait further developments. .

He did not neglect to use his eyes during thisE

time, and noticed that all the little groups of
Cossacks, on the way to the encampment, had
mounted their horses and were riding slowly out»
on either side, as if to cut off his retreat.

To show his own indifference he quietly dis-
mounted from his horse, took the flag from
Casse Tete and stuck the staff in the ground
while he was waiting, his orderly imitating his
example.

Meantime the Cossacks ke t on advancing till
he was surrounded by at east a hundred of
them staring at him as if he had been a wild
beast, and talking to each other about him in
Russian. of which he only understood the word
“ molodyetz,” frequently repeated. And he had
heard from a Russian prisoner that moladyetz
meant “ brave fellow.“

Therefore he judged that the Cossacks were
'irmpressed with his looks and those of Casse

etc.

After half an hour’s patient waitin he saw a
cloud of dust coming rapidly towar him, and
distinguished the glitter of weapons and waving
of plumes in the midst of it.

“ Take up the flag, Casse Tete," he said-
" Here comes an officer at last.”

They mounted and remained there till a bril-
liantly uniformed officer in scarlet and gold
came dashing up at the head of a troop of Cos-
sacks in the same bright color and made a polite
salute to the young general, saying, in excellent
French:

“Good-day, monsieur. Ver sorry to have
kept you waiting, but these fel ows of ours don’t
understand the customs of war. Whom how I
the leasure of addressing by chance?”

" am General the Count of Friedland with
an auto raph letter from his majesty the Em-
peror o the French to his majesty the Em ror
of Russia. Whom have I the honor to see?’

“ I am Count Freodor Doktorofl, of the staf
of Prince Platofl, Ataman of all the Cossacks.
If you will give me your letter, general, I will
send it in at once. ” ,

“That is im sible, count. If I cannot de-
liver it person y I must go back with it unde-
livered. ’

As he said this, Gabriel felt his heart beating
unwontedly, for he was afraid the Russian
would take him at his word and send him back.

He wasahandsome youn fellow, this Russian
count, with brown eyes an a downy mustache,
and he looked like a gentleman; but it was evi—
dent, also that he was no fool, but on the con-
trar . skilled in negotiation.

“ think that would not be desirable, gen-
eral,” he answered, smilingly. “If there is a
letter from such a distinguished man as the Em-
peror Napoleon, it must be delivered to him;

ut, at the same time, it is not necessary tocon-
duct you through our quarters.”

“ Is not the emperor near here, then!” asked
Gabriel.

The young Russian laughed. A

“ We can find him if we wish. I will insure
the delivery of the letter."

“ But that is not the point, count. I wish a
personal answer to the letter and the common
courtesy of warfare forbids this flag or m self
to be treated with any disrespect. I wi£ to
see the Czar.” -

“ That, I regret to say, is against the orders,

eneral: and ion, as a soldier, know that we

vc to obey t em.”

“ Then take me to the commanding neral
of the forces before me. I am a gene -oflicer
and have a right to treat with my equal in
“rank.” You hear only that of captain, I be-

eve.

“ That is true general, but I represent my
general with ful powers."

Gabriel drew himself up rondl .

“ Enou h. I will go bee and it will be ro-
claimed t roughont Europe that the Ru 3
do not know how to respect a flag of truce.
Good-day. sir.”

He was turning his horse when the young
ca tain said, smoothly.

'Pray do not be angry. general. I think I
see a way by which we can settle this master
amicab‘liy.”

“ An what is that?”

“I can conduct you to the presence of the
Atama but it will be necessary for you to be
disarm; and blindfolded.” .

“And is Prince Platofl your nearest com-
mander?" asked Gabriel.

The young count laughed. '

“You must not ask uestions. I will take.

on there. Your man, 0 course, will stay here.

will leave one of my sergeants with him who
can talk French: and he will find hill!!!" well.
treated, I hogan. ’

“ Wlmt, ave on a sergeant who talks
French?” asked Ga riel in wonder.

i

t

Why not? We are not all, as you perhaps
imagine, savages. Here, Vassili.”
A short, stout Coasack sergeant rode out,
saluting, and the captain continued in French:
“ You will take care of this honest soldier.
Vanni, and if you finish'a bottle of vodka, his
majesty will pay for it.”

“Very good, my captain,” re lied Vassili,
and Gabrie started as he spoke, or the accent
was unmistakabl Alsatian, of the peasant
kind. But he he no time to ask questions, for
Count Feodor continued briskly:

“Now, general, if you Will produce your
handkerchief we will make all secure and lead
you to our camp.”

Gabriel complied and the Russian took care
to bind his eyes securely, so that he could see
nothing. The he gave up his sword, a Cossack
took hold of is bridle reins on each side and
the little troop trotted 03.

 

CHAPTER XIX. '
rm: arm n norm.

GABRIEL was determined, blindfolded or not,
to find out all that he could as to the disposition
of the Russian forces, and put his wits to work
at once.

His only means of judging as to the way he
went was by noting the turns of his horse, and
listening to catch any sounds that indicated
camps near by; but his astute conductor was
determined not to give him even this slender
chance if he could, or he entered into a gay
and unmilitary conversation with him, at once
plying him with questions about Paris and
musical matters, pictures, books, celebrated

i1050 hers, and the like, that interested

brie in spite of himself and compelled him
to answer.

Thus he soon lost sense of the way he was

ing, though he knew they had got off the
hard road and were winding in and out of a
number of devious passages, while the buzz of
voices and stamping of horses showed they
‘ were in some camp.

He did not sus t what was actually the
case, that Count eodor was taking him up and
down the streets of a single pulk or regiment of
Cossacks on purpose to bewilder him and only
wondered at the length of the ride, which lasted
nearly an hour, when they again struck oil! at
a sharp trot over a sandy heath and rode
straight away for another half hour till Count
Feodor said to him:

“ We are nearly there now.”

Presently they halted and heard a great clat
terin of arms and Count Feodor sa (1:
‘ “ ease to dismount now. We are there.”

Gabriel complied and was about to push off his
bandage when he felt the other seize his hands
and heard him say:

“No, no, general, not yet.
know: on honor.”

So he had to remain blinded till the count
had taken him by the arm and led him across
a yard that was strewn deeply with litter,

into a house of some kin .

Then he heard a door close behind him, and
some one said:

“ You can take off the bandage now.”

He was not sorry to obey the order and
found himself in a small room with earthen
floor and brown rafters ovor ead, between
which shone a smoke-begrimed thatch. The
solitary window had no glass in it but oiled
linen instead and the furniture consisted of two
stools of wood and along settee or bench.

He took in all this at a glance and then per-
ceived that there were two people besides him-
self in the room. -

One of them was a short man, with the bod
of a giant, along beard that had been red and
was now nearl white; a Cossack uniform so
loaded with go lacethat he was evidently a

‘ n of some distinction; and a broad Tartar
ace with brown eyes that twinkled at him over
the china bowl of a German pipe that he was
smoking furiously.

Buti was the second rson who arrested
Gabriel’s attention most; or in him he beheld
the mysterious recluse of the secret mes of
Fonts. nebleau, whom he had suspec 0 play-
ingThe Man in Red before the emperor.

he stranger was attired in the undress uni-
form of a Russian eneral, a dark green coat
coming nearly to h I heels and a round cap,
both laced With silver.

He evinced no reco ition of his former an-

hilt?) however, bu said:
‘ His ighness Prince Platofl, does not under-
stand French. I am here to interpret for him,

On honor, you

general. What is our errand i”
“ I bear a letter the Czar from his magesty
the Em ror of the French, monsieur. I eeire

permiss on to present it in pomn to his majesty
of Russia.”

The strange general translated, but the Cos-
sack Ataman shook his head and made some an-
swer in Russian. blowing the ashes out of his
alps in a manner strongly indicating contempt

ward the request.

“The prince says the idea is not admissible
under the circumstances. He will forward
your letter—”

are  .

“But how shall I get an anSWer? It is very
important, monsieur—pardon me, but I do not
know your name.”

“ My name is—never mind. ,You can call me
Interpreter if you please. Your. answer Will
come soon enough. You may be sure of that.”

“ And you positively refuse to let me see the
Czar? Remember that the Emperor Napoleon
is not accustomed to send, but to receive flags,
monsieur. Common civility dictates that when
the eatest monarch of Europe sends an auto-
grap letter to his brother sovereign no out-
sider shall interfere between them.”

And Gabriel’s voice rose to a tone of anger as
he spoke, for he was mortified and humiliated
at the way he was bein treated by those Rus—
sians he had beaten at riedlazid and Borodino.

The general without a particle of emotion
translated his address and the Ataman of the
Cossacks laughed—actually laughed as he an-
swered in the dryest conceivable tones:

“ His highness says,” reported the interpreter
coolly; “ that the Emperor of the French, if he
be such a great man, should have kept at home
in his own country;3 He has come to Russia
and will find out fore next year, that he is
only a man like the rest of the kings Russia has
beaten.”\

“ The answer,” returned Gabriel hotly, “is
what might be expected from 8. Savage like
those who fired on my fl to-day. I will take
back my letter and your lood be on your own
heads.”

Again the interpreter translated, and this
time the Ataman looked disturbed asking,r ques-
tions which the other repeated to Gabrie :

“ His highness wants t) know if you positive-
ly will not deliver your letter to him i”

“ No. I will take it back first. I was sent
to see the Czar and I will see him or go back.”

“ But if you go back, our letter will not
reach the Czar and we 8 all not know what
your emperor wishes.”

“ So much the worse for you.”

And Gabriel turned away and was going to
the door when the Ataman cried:

“Stoil Stoi!”

He halted and the Russian said something to
the inter reter who re rted:

“ His ighness is Willing to have you sent on
to the Czar if you can assure him that the em-
peror desires peace.”

“ I can,” replied Gabriel. “ I have read the
letter myself. '

“ And what does his majesty desire to offer
as the price of peace?” asked the old Cossack,
his eyes glistenin .

“ That I can te the Czar; no one. else.”

“Ask him, general, if he knows who the
Ataman of the Cossacks is.”

“ I suppose he is a general,” was the answer,
when the uestion was ut into French.

“Tell him that the taman of the free Cos-
sacks of the Don has a right to enter the pres-
ence of the Czar at any time, to sentence to
death and to rdon criminals, and that he is
the viceroy of he Czar in the Ukraine."

Then the old Cossack leaned back and watch-
ed with twinklin eyes the eflect of his boast-
ing announcemen ~

Gabriel only shrugged his shoulders.

“ I was sent to the Czar, and if I cannot see
him I can go back,” he answered, a reply that
seemed to stag er the old Ataman.

" Now,” cont ued Gabriel firmly, “ bind my
eyes a sin, and send me back. In a. week more
you w be sorry for it."

“ What does he an i” demanded Platoif.

When it was tran ted he said:

“Let him go on to see the Czar general. It
is as well, perhaps, for, to tell the truth, my
fellows are getting anxious togo home and if
these French will save Russia and go back in
peace it may be well.”

The pale-faced eneral looked at him with
some contempt an replied:

“ Keep in your own calling Ataman, and
you’ll make no mistakes. You hink the French
terrible fellows. Don’t you see that they begin
to tremble?”

The Ataman looked puzzled. .

_t“ '11"? tremble! But they have taken our holy
ci _v .

The general shrugged his shoulders.

“ You said you would let me manage this. 1
know the French better than you."

“ But he will have to give up his letter,” re-
monstrated the Ataman earnestly.

“ The letter is of no importance. They were

ng to in time to retreat.”

‘To re eat!” echoed the Cossack. “ But in
that case. lord general, the Czar oughtto see the
letter. We don’t want them to retreat just yet.
Don’t you see?”

Gabriel saw that some dTute was going on
and longed to understand it, at it was put to a
sudden termination here by the clatter of ac-
couterments in the ard outside when the Ata-
man rose and hurri out, leaving Gabriel alone
With the general. _

CHAPTER XX.
m czan.
Ir was evident to the young envoy that some
V

 

person of distinction had arr ed. for he heard
the Russian officers roaring out orders, and the

 

 

clastlédof arms told that arms were being pre-
sen

But cooped up in that dingy room he could
not tell even what troops were round im.

Not to exhibit any anxiety, he threw himself
down on the settee and observed to the general,
with a yawn: _

“ These Russians have no idea of the courtesies
of warfare. I wonder that a man like you
could take service with them. It must be wary
distasteful” '

The strange general iled slightly.

“Perhaps, and perhaps not. You must re-
member that I do not hold the same opinions
as eu.’

abriel looked at him gravely.

"I ho a not. For example, I hold that the
paper p ace for a French soldier is under the

nch flag.”

“I agree with you, but the Fre flag is.
white with three golden lilies on e field.
’When that waves over Paris you’ll find me
under it.”

“ Then you will never see Paris,” retorted
Gabriel, emphatically.

“ 0n the contrary, I shall enter it as the 
of Russia to replace Louis XVIII. on the throne
of his fathers.”

“ It would be an honorable entry, sir, on the
side of feudal tyrany, to replace the free choice
of a nation.”

“ The choice of a nation! Bah, monsienr.
You forget that when he proclaimed that ho
was emperor, the people were gagged and the
prisons full of victims. You are aye man,
monsieur, and don’t remember as well as some
others what took place ten years ago.”

The pale features of the strange general were
suffused by a faint tinge of color, and his eyes
burned like live coals. He seemed to be angry
for the first time. Gabriel looked at him keenly
and wondered who he could be that s its so
warme of events concernin which, he 12
had but little exact inform 'on. So he laid:

“ Perhaps you were a prisoner then."

The stranger’s eyes sparkled, but he com-
pressed his lips and answered:

“ No. I was dead. That is enough of in -

self. Now, to war mission. I know whatis
your letter. is man who thinke he made
into grantin

imself, wishes to fool the Czai-I
an armistice. I warn you that e will not go
it. Mere, you will retreat from Moscow and
loae your army. If you wish to save your own
life, resign your commission and take service
with the Czar.”

Gabriel started up angrily.

“How dare on make such an offer to me? '
By heavens, if were not-—”

“ In my power, owing me your life,” slcwly
interrupted the other. -
“Well, yes; if it were not for that I wculd
cast my glove in your face. As it is, if you are
not a coward, on will cease to insult me, sir.”

The general ooked at him in a way that puz.
zled Gabriel. He could have sworn that a lit- ‘
tie admiration lurked in that glance, but the
stran man answered coolly: .
“ ery well. You may need my protection
some day. and be glad to enter the service of ~

Never mind. You sto one night
at the house of the Princess Do on the-
way: did you not?”

“Yes,” said Gabriel, surprised, “but how
did on know it?” I '

“ a princess told me. Her nephew is on
the ataman‘s me. He brought you in, you
help, Her husband is one of our best gon-
era .

“ And she is a Frenchwoman,” remarked
Gabriel, thoughtfully. “ I wish I knew where.
I had seen her in Paris.”

Th‘eVfieneral curled his lip.
“ at need to ask? You’ll never gum. But;
she takes an interest in you.”

“In me, enerali”

“ Precise y, in you. Do you know, count,
that one may have people who take a deep
interest in one and never know them! You
come f an Alsatian famil .”

“I o, if family it can hecalled of which I ’
am the only living relic.” .

“Indeed! Where are the rest?”

“ My father died on the field at Volney and
my mother was killed by a shell.”

‘ But your father had a relative in the army,
more than one.”

“ You are, mistaken. He had a sister of
whom I never heard him a it save once.” ~

“ And what said he then ” asked the general,
fixing his eyes on Gabriel’s searchin81y-

The oung man hesitated.

“ t s a family matter, and no one’s concern.
He was an with her. 0 ..

“ And w y!” pursued his inquisitor. ‘

“ I have said it is a family matter; and you
are a stranger, sir.”

The other gave him a short laugh.

“ You are ver cautious. But I. know what
was said. I ' see you on itat some other,
time. I fancy you are a lucky man. Count
Gabriel, for here comes his mateaty M”

As bespoke the doorwas t rown open and
into the room stepped a tell figure that Gabriel -
recognized_at once as the Emperor of Bulk. in
the full uniform of a field marshal.

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j General,” to the pale ofiicer, “ride bac

    

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He rose and bowed low, and the Czar said to
him, kindly:

“ I understand on have a letter for me from
my brother, the peror of the French. I will
receive it.‘

Gabriel delivered it without more ado and

, the Czar read it quietly. When he had finished
he said to Gabrie :

“ It is too late.”

“Too late, sire?"

“ Too late. Had this note come before the
occupation of Moscow, I could has treated
with the Emperor Napoleon; but now honor
requires that I retrieve the disasters of the
summer by the triumphs of the winter. 1 have
taken counsel with my best generals, and we
are all agreed that we can give no armistice. If
his majesty wishes to leave Russia, he can do
so; but I warn him he must leave his army
behind him, either dead men or prisoners.”

Gabriel stood astounded at the firm and
menacing language of the Czar, and could only
ask him:

“ Is that your ultimatum, sire ?”

“ To the Emperor Napoleon, yes. We met at
'I‘ilsit, and I have a sincere liking for his
majesty; but our interests cannot be identified

any longer. But for on, Monsieur le Comte,"
he added, kind] , “ have a liking. Where
havolseen ou fore?"

“On the iemen at Tilsit, sire, I believe. I

commanded the escort that day.”

“ Yes, yes, I remember. Those rim black
cuirassiers that cut up my poor ossacks so
badly. A fine regiment, count, a fine to ment.
Pit that they are about to be destroye .”

brie] dre w himself up.

“ If they are destroyed, sire, it will not be by
the Cossacks unless they are ten to one.”

The emperor smiled good-naturedly.

“ We will not quarrel over it. But I feel an
interest in you, for certain reasons. When you
are a prisoner, if you will send word to me that
you wish to see me, I will see you. You under-
stand? I shall have an offer then to make to

ou.

Gabriel bowed.

“ If I am unfortunate enough to be taken,
sire, I will remember At: but I have already
inform this gentleman here, that I can never
enter \the ussian 991“ ice while Russia and
France are at war with each other.”

“ No one has asked you, count,” dry]

replied
the Czar.

“ But it is time you were ridm back.

with

' him through the camps. Let him see every-
thing. I fear no news e can take away.”

 

i CHAPTER XXI.
ma LAST DAYS IN MOSCOW.

Tm rode back together, the boy gen-
eral and the pale inscrutable stranger.
through the midst of Russian regiments of in-

_ fantry, brown, dusty and ragged, long trains
of guns, hordes of Cossacks and regiments of
big, heav dragoons and cuirasslers, that
amused Ga riel. '

- “The horses are in good condition,” he ob
served thou htfully, as he passed a battery
with eight male to each gun.

The ral shrugged his shoulders.

.“W t would you have? Do you expect
them to starve in their own country if they
have time to eat the forage before it is burnt?
Your men cannot get it. ”

Gabriel said no more, but he felt the full
forde of the implication, and he saw that the
well-fed Russian army was in numbers much
larger than he had supposed possible, after the
iceses of the campaign.

80 he rode silently on to the outposts, where
he found Casse Tete smokingasociable pipe
with the Cossacks and there he took leave of
the strange general, who touched his hat coldly
and rode away with the Cossacks.

Then they Plucked up the white flag, and

Count Gabrie rode slowly back to Moscow,
followed by Casse Tete, both men very silent
and thoughtful.
/ to his usual custom, the order]
said not a word during the whole journey, ti 1
they had paSsed the pickets and were nearing

, the walls of Moscow.

Then he coughed slight] to attract his mas-
ter’s-attention, and Ga rie said:

“Well, Caese Tete, what is it?"

He knew that his follower wished to say
somethin and wanted encouragement.

Casse ete cleared his throat again.

“Alieml My general, did you know who

l was w th you when you came back to the out-
posts?”

“ No. That is, I know he is French, but that
tag]. D you know!”

is qu . ion was on ‘erl ut.
Casse Tete shook his8 heir]?

,“No, my general, I do not. But if it were

.- not that I know he blew his brains out or hun‘gi

himself, or something of that sort, I won]
swear that I did know him.”

“Know whom? You are talking nonsense.
That is no dead man and no ghost. He is as
much alive as you or I.” '

Casse Tote com ressed his lips, but made no
nepl and Gabrie continued:

‘ hom was he like, Casse Tote?”

 

The old soldier evaded the point.

‘1‘ It is not for me to say, m general; but it
{is singular thing that there s ould be two of

em.

“Two of what, Casse Tote? 8 k out.”

“ Two dead men come to life a sin.”

“ Two dead men? And who is he other?”

“That Russian sergeant, my general. I once
served with that man in the army of the Sam-
bre and Mouse, in "93."

“ You did? What was he then?"

“He was simply private Basil Bontard, of
the 47th demi-brigade, my general and We
went into Holland under General zPiche ,
and took the fleet of the Hollanders wit a
char of cavalry.”

“ avalry? I thought you said you were in
the infan , Casse Tet'e?’

“Basil ntard was, my general, not I. and
we got acquainted on the march, when I was
orderly at brigade head-quarters. Finally he
exchanged into the cavalry, and we were to
gether when we took the fleet.”

“ How did you do that? I’ve heard of it. but
only as a joke."

"It was no joke, my eneral, I assure on.
It was winter time, an there was the cot,
fast frozen up in the Texel. So we rode out
over the ice in the night, and took them all, so
they could not help themselves a bit. It was
in all the pa rsat the time. And this Bontard,
he afterwarr deserted, at the time the Chouans
were so prosperous and when the emperor was
in Egypt. And he tells me he went into the
Russian service in Italy, when their General
Suwarrow was there, and that he has a wife
and a farm and a herd of cattle among the
Cossacks. And he was actually trying to in-
duce me to say I would come with him, my
general. If we had not been under a flag of
truce, I believe I should have given him a good

'blow, to teach him manners.”

“And what made you think he was dead,
Casse Tete? You said you thought him another
dead man.”

“Oh, that is true. my general. I was told
that he had been killed in Italy in one of the
battles there; but it turns out to be the very
one in which he deserted. He was always a
deep fellow, that Bontard.”

“And who was the other man that you
thought dead? Was he too killed in battle on
the reports, and alive again in reality—or is it
all a story you have invented i”

Casse Tete began to cough again, as if hesi-
tating what to say, when they heard the bells
of Moscow ring furiously out, and saw another
dense column of smoke rise from the midst of
the city. .

“Ah! the accursed pirates!” cried the old
cuirassier, vindictively. “See, my general,
they are at it a ain.”

And indeed t ey were, for not only one, but
three distinct columns of smoke, all dense and
black, rose u while they were looking, and
they forgot a about their conversation while
they listened to the changing of the bells and
the shouts of the excited soldiers as they rushed
through the streets to extinguish the fire.

Gabriel and his orderly rode hurriedly in,
and found the whole town in an uproar.

It was the sixth fire that day, and yet they
had already, while he was gone on his expedi-
tion to the Czar‘s quarters. shot and hung a
dozen Russians caught in the act of piling eon-
bustibles in cellars.

The fires were put out at last- but not before
sevsra] houses were destroyed, and Gabriel
caught si ht of the emperor in his gray over-
coat, fol owed by his staff, riding back from
the ruins, giving orders as he went.

The Man of Destiny saw him as he saluted,
and beckoned to him to come up. Then they
rode slowly on to the Kremlin, and Gabriel
noticed that the face of the emperor wore a set,
anxious look, such as he had neVer seen on it
before. '

For a long time he said nothing. thou h his
eyes were everywhere: but at last he roke
out impatiently:

“ Well, we] , what did he say? Speak out.
Did they deny you access to the Czar! Tell me
the story.”

“They denied me to see the Czar, sire, and
took me to Platofi'. Ataman of the Cossacks."

“Indeed? Platoff, eh? What sort of a man
is he, count?”

“ A rough Cossack, sire: but he has a tutor
in a French renegade. whose name I do not
know, but whom I strongly ct to be the
same who played The Man in ed to deceive
your majesty.”

The emperor frowned deeply.

“ Indeed? Come, this grows interesting.
Does he think he can pla the me of war
with me?” he muttered. un or his reath.

Then, after a little, he went on:

“ Then on only saw Platoff?”

“No, s o, the Czar came in while I was
there.”

“ You are sure it was he?" asked the emperor
eagerly. “ Do you know him?”

‘ I saw him at Tilsit, sire. It was the same.”

“ Then he cannot be more than—3’
“About fifteen miles off, sire. I rode fast
there and back.”

 

H Then—H «(

The emperor looked around him. The streets
were full of soldiers, man of them drunk,
others carryin bundles of t eir plunder out of
houses, while t epmcers did not seem tocare
what was going on. The disci line of the
Grand Army had become much r axed on the
road to Moscow.

He shru god his shoulders mutterin :

“ With t c men of Austerlitz I mig t make a
dash; but with this rabble—bah !”

Gabriel saw what was in his mind—a sudden
advance to defeat the Russians and capture the
Czar—but, as the emperor said, the army was
in no condition to take the field in a hurry.

The men and emcers were all overloaded

with lunder and ever colonel had acarri e
and horses to drag ong with him on t e
mare .

The dark battalions of the Old Guard were
the on] thoroughly disciplined bodies remain-
in in t e Grand Army.

0 the emperor resumed his
irritable manner that showed
his mind.

“So on saw the Czar?” well, well, are on
dumb t at you cannot tell what he said? id
you ive him my letter?”

“ did, sire, and he read it."

“Well, what did he say?”

“ He refused an armistice, sire and told me
that your majesty might have Moscow, but
that he warned you he would keep on fighting
vou.”

' The emperor‘s face never changed a muscle
as he heard the news, and he rode on for some
minutes in silence.

At last, as they were comingto the Kremlin
he inquired:

" Did you see the troops?”

" Yes, sire. They number nearly as many
as we do, but their homes are fat and the men
well fed. Their artillery has eight horses to a

an."
E The emperor nodded.

" Thank ou. You have done well.
pleased wit you, count.”

It was the first time Gabriel had ever heard
words of unstinted praise from the first man in
Europe. Usually it was only by the absence of
rebuke that one could tell the emperor was
pleased with anything.

He dismcunted at the gates of the palace and
said to the side who met him:

“ Send out an order to the marshals. I wish
to see them all at once in two hours from now.”

To Gabriel he said:

“ Get your corps ready'to move. You will
have to cover—”

He did not say what they were to cover but
his bearer knew what he meant:

The retreat from Moscow!

uestions in the
e strain upon

Iam

 

CHAPTER XXII.
CONFIDENCES.

THAT night the emperor was closeted late
with the marshals who came out with grave
faces' and the rumor spread with alarming
rapidity through the city that the army was
goxng to retrea . '

Count Gabriel of Friedland in his own nar-
ters had been up late attending to the deta of

ettin his command ready, to mow and when

6 be dismissed the last omcer. he was sum-
moned by a messa to the Kremlin.

His majesty wis ed to see him.

The count ordered his horse and rode over
with Casse Tete.

He found an; court-yard of the palace occu-
pied b a be ion of the Old Guard, sleeping
on the arms and had noticed on his way
the streets were full of troops lying about on
the sidewalks. ,

But the city was quiet and there were no
more fires.

On his way he passed the bodies of nearly
twen unha y Russian peasants dangling
from ams 0 wood or street lamps swung on
chains and he knew they had been caught at
acts of incendiarism.

He found the em r01l alone in a larfi cham‘
her in a wing of t e old palace with oustan
the Mameluke sleeping in an anteroom. His
mflmty looked the same as usual now, calm
an confident and was pacing the room with his
hands behind his back in his favorite attitude of
thought.

He nodded to Gabriel and said:

“ Sit down, count.”

Then he continued his walk for some minutes
til] at last he began:

“ We are going to retreat, and I have given
the Prince of the Moskwa the command of the
rear guard. You are togo with him. It is the
post of honor and danger. They will give you
your orders to—morrow and the movement will
commence inside of the week. How many men
have you fit for service?”

“Twelve thousand, sire, ‘ut only three
whose horses will last the retreat.”

The emperor twitched the corner of his mouth
nervously and looked haggard.

“ How many men are fit to go for a week! I
mean how man horses?" '

“ About five t ousand, sire.”

 

C

A
T

“ Then you have four thousand men dis-
mounted?” .

“ Yes, sire.”‘

" Tell the quartermastsrto inns muskets to
them. Theywfil have to act as infantry for
awhile.”

“ Yes, sire.”

“Issue mnskets also to those who will stay
mounted for a week."

“Yes, sire.”

“ Keep your good horses together and collect
all the forage you can.”

“ Yes, sire.’

“ Don’t charge the Comacks unless they come
within a hundred ards. We cannot 0rd to
waste work in tryin to catch them."

“Very good, sire.

Then the emperor recommenced his nervous
walk and at last broke out:

“ After all we have been as badl off—that is
I have— You were not in Italy ’96, count,
were you i”

“ No, sire, I was a boy then.”

“Yes, yes, I remember. Well, I was then
worse off. I had but fifty thousand men,
hardly any cavalry, the city of Mantua to be-
siege and a hundred thousand Austrians were
coming to crush me. But I beat them. We
shall get out of Russia. Count.”

“ I am confident of it, sire.”

The emperor smiled. The remark seemed to

please him.
“Yes. we shall get out of Russia. But I am
displeased with the marshals. The king of

Naples is already talkingof oing home. Home!
the imbecile! He could not ieep his throne six
months if I were not in the ’I‘uileries. Count, I
am sick of ingratitude. They owe all to me
and LllcV begin already to talk about going
home. These men that I have made princes
and dukes are thinking of how to make their
own peace and keep their titles. Already! what
will it be a year hence, when this army is de-
strayed?”
Gabriel was amused. He had never

 

et
heard the emperor speak so frankly to him. Tie .

seemed unconscious that he was speaking, but
was merely uttering his thou hts a and

The young general venture to say:

"There are faithful men left, sire. I, for
one, will never desert you.” :
The emperor smiled again, and he had a rare

and beautiful smile.

"I do not think you would. But tell me.
You said that you saw to-day that man who E
annoyed us before. Wagram and at Fontaiue- ;
bleeu. Do you know who he is?” 4 1
“No, sire, except that he is French and a
Revalist.” , |

“ You are sure you do not know?”

Gabriel saw with surprise that the emperor
uooked suspiciously at him and answered:

“Certainly, sire. I have not the least sus-
picion.” I

“That is well. I fancied that he had told
you some lies about me. He hears a strong re- ’
semblance to a man who hung himself in prison !
at the time of the execution of the Duke of l

Enghien. ' He is an ipostor and trades on the
likeness. B ‘lieve nothing he says."

“Certainly not, sire. must observe, how-
ever. that he seems to be in high favor with the
Czar for I found him at Prince Platoff’s head-

" Ay, a3,” hastilys replied the emperor. “ I
will not say he a good soldier. He was
with me at Brianne and was an ollcer several
years before I graduated. He was afterward
cashiered for peculation and in revenge turned
against the republic. II

The emperor stopped short.

" has passed the zenith. From this day it will '

quarters and he wore a general’s uniform.” i
|

e trades on his likens. '

the act of descending the stairs, when he heard
a istol-shot in the emperor’s room, and the
v cs of his chief calling:

“Roustanl here 1”

Without a moment’s hesitation the young
general rushed back and there stood, facing the
emperor, The Man in Red!

- CHAPTER XXIII.
'TEILABTVIBITOI‘TBE KARINRID.
Tm]: was no question about it. The Man in
Red—tall, thin, in close scarlet arments—stood
there. smiling sardonically on t e emperor, who
held in his hand a smoking istol which he had
just fired, while Roustan, is dark face blue
with fear. had drawn his saber, and seemed as
if hesitating to advance and not darin to do so.

 

The emperor turned at the sound 0 Gabriel’s ,

step and pointed to The Man in Red, saying, im-
periously:

“ t that man."

Gabriel drew his sword and advanced firmly
on The Man in Red, who said not a word.

“ You are m prisoner,” said the young man,
and as he spo e be reached out to grasp the
other. He saw that it was not the general of

 

whom he had known. The face was diflerent.
Besides, the general was clean shaven, and this .
11:3: wore a long pointed mustache and chin l
t

There was but.a single lamp in the room at ‘
the time, and The Man in Red stood beside it.

And then, just as Gabriel thought he had ,
grasped the other, the lamp Went out, the room ‘
became dark, the oung general found empty
air before him, an Roustan cried out:

“ Allah Akbar! It is Eblisl”

For, even while the darkness was deepest,
they saw a bluish glow in a spot on the further
wall of the room, thirty feet away, and there
stood The Man in Red again, smiling at them in ;
the same evil fashion. - ‘

As for Roustan, the M ameluke was complete-
ly unnerved, and even Gabriel could n’t he] a
certain shudder, but the emperor cried fierce y:

“ Enough of this mummery. You have come.
What do on want?”

The bluish light illuminated that marble face,
and Gabriel could see that it was full of anger I
and grim impatience. i

Then tug? heard a voice from the center of
the appari on in the wall speak out:

" I have come, as I said I would. Thy star 1

wane to the sunset. I have come to warn thee. 1
Restore the King of France, and thou mayest ‘
yet die with honor.”

The empen r laughed scornfnll y. ‘

“When I was General Bonaparte I refused ‘
the offer. The Emperor of the French knows -
no King of France. If thou hast nothing more
to say, go, or I call the guard.”

The apparition laughed in answer, and his
laugh seemed an echo of the other.

“I defy you. You def me. Hitherto you
have conquered. Now it s my turn. I know
your tactics. You do not know mine yet; but
you shall feel them in France.”

The l ht faded away, and all was dark
again w on Gabriel said to himself, half-aloud:

“ Who can this be?”

l
1

man could he, who was evidently known to the

em .

summoned Duroe, and a strict search wan
made for the secret passages, resulting in t e
discovery of a door hung with tapestry on the
spot where they had seen the apparition.

But before they could search further the
walls shook under a fearful explosion in the pa-
lace at the other wing, and a aiu rose the ter-
rible cry they had heard so 0 ten of late:

“Fire! fire! fire!”

At the same minute a broad red glare shone
in at the windows, and they could see thefiames
leaping out of the lower part of the palace, the
wind b10wing them straight toward the em-

ror, while the soldiers in the court-yard had
Jumped uggnd were staring at the spectacle as

if paralys .

he emperor uttered a curse below his breath,
the first emotion Gabriel had ever seen him
show, but in a moment he was cool again and
snatched up his but from the table.

“ Order the alarm beaten. Duroc." he cried.

“ Get the troops under arms. These savages
are burning their own palace to drive us out!
Oh. if it were only July 1”

They rushed from the palace and not a mo-
ment too soon.

Officers and men, camp followers and all-the
rabble that follows an army came pouring out
from the Kremlin and reported the whole place
in flames no one knew how. '

The strong odor of burning pitch and tar
showed how the c( nfiagration had spread so rap-
idly and even in bile they looked the whole mess
of the huge building was wrap led in flames,
casting a glare over the city 0 Moscow and
showing the streets full of troops silent and or-
derly enough now under the pressure of this un-
known terror against which no one could ard.

The emperor mounted his horse an rode

. through the streets followed by his numerous

staff to encourage the troo but the shouts of
“ Vive l’Empercur ” were ew and faint. Even
the soldiers realized that his star was waning.

They had fought hard for months and this
was their reward: a barren victory and a heap
of ashes.

All that long night no one in Moscow had
any rest. and the flames continued to St)de

The Kremlin burntso fiercely that no utter“: '

was made to save it, but fires kept bursting
in fresh uarters all over the city and no one
could fin out how they began.

There would be heard an explosion in a cellar
where no one had been seen for days and the
whole house would bl ze up in a we that
lshoiiired it must have been prepared before-

an . '

The burning of the Kremlin seemed to be
the signal for that of Mascow.

Burriedly the baggage-wagons and artillrry
were ordered out of the city and the rumbling

‘ of the long trains sounded like thunder as they

went; while the roar of the flames, the
voices of officers giving orders, the shouts d
the excited men in all the languages of the Em-
pire, made a Babel of confusion.
And in the midst of all this came a gma‘t ex-
losion among the burning ruins of the Dem-
im, as the flames reached a secret magazine of

Low as the words were spoken, an answer 1 powder, and the soldiers in the streets started a

came back from the darkness:

“ Look and see.”

Then the light burst out again, and Gabriel
beheld a tall, thin man in the uniform of
twent years before, when the nerals of the
repuch wore long hair, club in cues, hu
three—come hats, voluminous neck-clot
and tri-colored sashes, over blue coats turned
up with red.

The face was the face of the general be had

“Never mind, now. If ever you see him known, but the quaint old—fashioned costume

again, shoot him down.”

Gabriel started.

“ Sire, shoot him?”

“ I said so. I give you the order.”

And the emperor’s voice had a hard, tiless
accent that made the.young general shu er.

He turned pale, and said:

“ Sire, I must tell you something. I owe that
man my life. We once fought, and he over-
came me. If there is to be shooting. he has the
right to take my life, which be spared.”

The emperor frowned angrily.

“ What is all this? Where did this happen!”

“ At Fontainbleau. sire. Idiscovered a series
of secret passages and found him in a place I
cannot name without forfeiting my honor. He
gave me my life on condition that I kept the
secret. promising never to use it to hurt your
ma 'esty.” , .

he emperor looked as black as a thunder-
cloud. an his voice sounded like the growl of
distant thunder as he said to Gabriel:
“ I am sorrly tohear lt. I thought you a man.
I find on on_ y a child. You can go, sir, Mar.
ghal ey, Prince of the Ifoskwa, will give you
your orders.”

Gabriel, deeply mortified, bowed low and left

the room.

Roustan started as he crossed the ante.
room, and half drew is saber; but, as m n
he saw who it was. the Mameluke said:

“ Excuse. count. Good-night.”

Gabrielpsieedout into the hall,andwas in

 

altered it entirelg.

Yet it was th figure, real or pictured, that
spoke out:

“ You do not know me: he doss. Bone ,
remember me amid the ashes of the B enne,
where once we walked together. Farswell.
Thou shalt see me once more.”

“ When i” asked the emperor, firmly.

“On the day of thy death,” was the solemn
answer. -

Then the light faded away again, and all was
still

The emperor struck a ll ht from the tinder-
box on the table, and lit t e lamp, which they
found overturned, but not empt . on the table.

" Call in Duroc,” he said. a arply, to tho

oung general. “ There are secret passa 3
here. We can find them out yet, and catch t is
mountebank. Did you reco nize the likeness?”

He still looked suspicious y at Gabriel, and
the latter innocently replied:

“ How could I, sire, when I never saw a gen-
eral ofilcer in those days but Moreen and
Roche!”

“And have you seen no portraits?" asked the
emperor. “ Come, you must have a icion
whom he is tryiu to personate. The 11 eness
is Very slrong, I mit. ‘

“ Indeed. no. sire."

“ Then call Duroc."

Gabriel noticed that the tones of his voice had
an accent of relief as he gave the order, and
wondered more than ever who this mysterious

 

panic and began to run for the gates, shouting
“Saute qui I”

In the midst of this wild stampede Gabriel,
Count of Friedland. looked with pride on his
own division of cuirassiers.

They had bivomcked in a square near the
Kremlin, and stood patiently b their horses,
the red glare lighting up their rasen helmets
and bright cuirasses. like so many statues, wait-

ing orders. And they had a long time to mt, I

for it became impossible to check the unreason-
ing panic that seized the soldiers before morning
dawned, and when the daylight came the ones
flourishing city of Moscow was a waste of smok-
ing ruins, with here and there a blackened house
standing up like a blasted tree, tottering to its
fall, while the camp-followers alone roamed
through the streets, picking up anyth that
the could find and searching eagerl or the
art les of jewelry which they knew he abound~
ed in Moscow before it was taken, and mostof
which the soldiers had packed into their knap-

sacks.

And not till en did an order come to Gabriel;
in the shape 0 an aide-decamp:

“ The prince of Mosh wa’s compliments. and he
wishes you to take out your division to support
the pickets. The Russians are advancing again.
You are to cover the rear guard.”

The retreat from Moscow had begun at last.

CHAPTER XXIV.
m savor.

TERI: months have passed away and m
relics of the Grand Army are collected on Pun.
sian soil.
or all the proud host of cavalry that entered
Russia in 1812. only one regiment remains in.
tact, diminished to three slender hadrons. but
as firm as ever—the grim old are Read
. The restauscattered tothe four

dead, part in hospitals, part in Bus-
son .

s.
A The eagles have taken their last fiighttothe

M ...,.._... ..

I

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...4 rap-I’m». sill-(«7% “when

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w- Arumfid-«vrkw dais-yak, ~

’18

‘ $ 'v‘ ' § ‘ v' |“ i
 Red.

 

east, and the relics of the Grand Army, with
crOwds of new conscripts from France, are
f lling back toward their native land, defeat
£llowing defeat, only fighting to secure a re-
treat, if by so doing they could save their
honor. For twelve years no enemy had crossed
‘the soil of France, now the English are in
Toulouse.

For six years the Prussians have been trodden
under foot, now they have joined the Russians.
The flag of France still waves over Berlin, but
how long will it wave there? The Russmns,
flushed with trium h, are advancing to drive
the emperor behin the Elbe.

In the midst of this war of giants, a traveling
carriage, with a tall, grim-looking cuirassier
on the box, is driving rapidly through the

asses of the Bohemian Mountains, and nearing

ienna.

In the carriage sits a handsome man, still
Young and fresh looking, in the uniform of a

rench general, and as they pass object after
object on the roads, he sighs and murmurs to
himself:

“ How different now.”

The old cuirassier on the box looks at things
in another way.

He is a philosopher and smokes a short, black
pipe, conducive to a. placid frame of mind.

As the car ' changes horses at Pratzen, he
descends and as 3:

“Is there anything I can do for you, my
general?”

“No, Casse Tete,” says the general, with a
sigh. “I need nothing. Do you notice where
we are?”

“Truly, yes, my general. This is the place
we gave the Russians their milk, only seven

years info.”

“ An now the tables are turned.”

“A trifle, my general, a trifle. We shall
drive them back yet. One cannot always have
luck; but we can beat any of them single-
handed.”

“ That’s it, Casse Tete. Ask the postmaster
how long it takes to Vienna.”

“Three hours, gracious herr,” says the 0th-
cial, respectfully, and away goes the carriage
again, past the old battle-field of Austerlitz,
and so on till it rolls over the long bridge at
Vipnna and rumbles through the streets to the
French embassy. There Count Gabriel of Fried-
lsnd gets out and is closeted with the embassa-
dor for a long time, while Casse Tete waits
patiently in the ante-room.

At last the door opens and Casse Tete catches
the last words: -

“ No one knows who he is, but we are certai
he is a Russian emissary, and he has the em-
peror’s ear all the time. You’ll see him to-
night at the ball.”

‘And I cannot procure an interview till to-
morrow?” sa 3 Gabriel, sadly.

“I fear no . Even that is doubtful. Things
are changed, count. I will send in the request
at , however.”

thanked him, and they depart to a
suit of rooms that has been pre for the

special envoy from the Emperor apoleon.
‘ (Jesse

Tete bustles about to make his chief
comfortable, and tries to cheer him up. but
Gabriel is very gloomy still. At last the faith-
ful orderly observes:

“ It seems to me. my general, that you set too
much store on little things.”

“ Little things, Casse Tete? Y s; but a
feather will show the direction of th wind.”
I " The wind changes, my general, and I never
knew it to blow lon in one direction. our
honorhasonl to we tand it will he favors ie.”

The count 00k his head.

“We cannot afford to wait. ‘We are in a
a hurry If we wait. our foes will move.”

“So much the better, my general. It will
save us the trouble of movin to find them.
We  fight our battles w ere we want

.  Tete seemed determined to let nothing
cast down his spirits, though. in truth, be felt
macmy as his young master, so he continued

“ t uniform will your honor wear at the
hall tonight?”

“ It matters little, Cause Tete.”

“ Phrdon, my general; but it matters a at
deal. ‘ If these Austrians see ou loo ing
gloomy and badly dressed, they w 11 think we
arein a way; but if you t on your best
uniform and show Iyourself c eerful, they will
think we are all rig t.”

“ You are right, Casse Tete. Put out the
uniform of Master of the Horse. I will keep
up a hold front."

Accordin ly that evening, when a grand
ball washed n the palace, one of the most
‘ ous figures on the floor wasa tall, hand-
some. fsir-haired man', in a picturesque hussar
uniform of blue and silver, and wearing the
cross of the Legion of Honor on his breast. It
was Count Gabriel of Friedland, and he at-
tracted a good deal of attention among the gay
Viennese. to whom he had been well known in
the prosperous days of the sin‘plre.

Very soon he was surroun edhy the youn
once" of the guard. asking him questions 05
how he had left the French army at Berlin, and

 

whether he thought the Russians would advance
further than the Polish frontier. ‘

“ Not if the emperor can prevent it,” he told
them, “ and his majesty has never failed to
drive his enemies so far.” .

“ How about the retreat from Moscow,
count?" asked Count Waldstein, a young Ger-
man officer, maliciously. “We heard that the
Russians drove you pretty far in three months.”

“ Not one step," asseverated Gabriel. “ They
tried to stop us more than once and we cut our

way out evefiy time. Besides, we were not
afraid of the ussians. It was the winter that
hurt us.”

“ The Russian envoy doesn’t say so,” young
Waldstein retorted. “By the by, have you
seen him yet?”

“ Seen whom?”

“ General Grupisch, to be sure, the new special
envoy. All the-world is talking about him.”

“Gru iscbl No. But that is not a Russian
name. ho is he?”

“ A German, probale You know there are
a number of Germans their army, and the
Russians hate them, too, because they have
more brains than themselves. But this Grupisch
does not look like a German. He has more the
aspect of a Frenchman."

“ When did he come here?” asked Gabriel.

“Three days ago. and he seems to be a great
favorite already. He has had two interviews
with the emperor.”

“There he is now,” interrupted one of the
young officers. “Look at the further end of
the saloon, count. He is coming with the
Kaiser.”

Gabriel beheld amid the crowds that filled
the great ball-room two gentlemen comin
slewly forward enga ed in conversation, ans
they appeared to be d tinguished people from
the way in which everybody made way from
them, retiring respectfully. '

He knew one of them well enough by his tall,
dignified figure, silver hair and kindly face. It
was the Emperor Francis Jose h.

The other was none other t an the general
about whom hung so much mystery. He was
simply dressed in a dark green uniform with
very ittle lace on it, and appeared to be laten-
ing to what the Austrian emperor was so ing.

Gabriel knew that in that man lay all his
danger at the court of Vienna. The emperor’s
daughter was on the the throne of France and
Austria was still nominally the all of Napoleon,
but had withdrawn her tomes to er own terri-
tory at the first disasters of the Moscow cam-

pai n.

Ife had come himse to Vienna to ask the
active assistance of an ustrian contingent and
here he found a Russian emissary high in avor
with the Kaiser.

His resolution was taken in a moment and
to him the ball-room became a field of bat e in
which he had an object to gain.

The Austrian officers fell away from his side
as the emperor advanced, and he was left alone
waiting.

Under ordinary circumstances he would have
fallen back into the crowd himself but the
occasion was too pre to admit of delicacy
in assertin his own tion.

He rema ned stan ng in the path of the ad-
vancin couple till Francis Joseph raised his
eyes, w en he bowed roi'oundll‘yx;

Tlhe emperor with h s usual dly smile said

im.
“ The Count of Friedland I believe. is it not?”
“The same, sire. on a special mission to your
ma esty from the Emperor Na leon.” .
he emperor's face grew colr or as he said:
gingeedl I thought you had an embas-
sa or. __

CHAPTER XXV.
A mum nlrLon'r.

“ I fllought you had an ambassador.”

The words were discouraging, and the usual
kindness of the Kaiser’s face had changed to a
100k of severity.

But Gabriel had come repared to meet cold-
ness and to evade it. B s former experience .at
the Court of Berlin in a trying crisis stood him
in good stead here, so he answered with the
most smiling grace: ,

“ It is very true, sire, but his majest defined
to show special honor to his august ether-in-
law on this occasion and has sent me in ad-
dition to convev to your majest his aesurances
of good will. Our minister the uke of Paler-
mo has had the honor I believe to communicate
my arrival to your majesty and to ask an audi-
ence for to-morrow.”

“ Yes. yes,” replied the Austrian, hastil .
“ He has sent word. You shall ve it,

At noon, at noon. How did you leave his
majesty the Em rc'r of the French 1” ~

‘ Well in hea th, sire, and triumphant over
any enemy who ventured to come close enough

to feel our artille .”
“Very good. 1% see on to-morrow, count.
Yes, yes; ’11 see you. -evening.”

And the em ror dismissed him with a cold
nod and mov on, the Russian still by his side.
Gabriel noticed that this stranger had
kept his eyes on the floor during their whole
conversation, a lurking smile on his lip, and as

 

they moved away he heard him say to the em-

PCT:

“ Times are changed, sire; but nothing to
what they will be in another year.”

Then they passed on and Gabriel retired to a
corner of the saloon, feeling more than ever
doubtful of the success of his mission. He had
secured an audiencs, which was something, but
his could read rejection already in the Kaiser’s
g ancc..

Presently, while he was buried in loomy
thoughts he heard his name pronounced fiiehind
him, and turned to behold the face of a lady
which seemed strangely familiar to him, but
which he could not at the moment identify.

“My dear count,” said the lady, gayly, “I
see in your eye that you have not the least idea
who I am, which is not fiatterin .”

" Indeed,” returned Gabriel, in the same
spirit, “you are mistaken. I’m sure I recog-
nisolyou perfectly, but-—-”

“ ut you don’t know who I am. It is true,
but then you have only seen me once in Russia,
where on passed a night at my house without
asking eave; but otherwise I am bound to ad-
mit behaved very well, far better than I had
reason to expect.

“ I know now, madame. I told vou that I
reco ized you. It is the princess, Olga Dokto-
roff, am sure.”

“ And yet, when you saw me then, you in—
sisted you had seen me before.”

“Yes; I remember; and it was in Paris, I
am sure. But I cannot— Will you tell me if on
the first occasion I saw you, a different cos-
tume was not—"

“My dear count, of course. Do you really
suppose that a woman would wear the same
costume all the time i”

“That is not it entirely. It must have been
the surroundings—”

“Ah, now you are going into the secrets of
the toilet, which no man can safely dare to
penetrate. But tell me, how do you like Vien~
na now?”

She had slipped her arm into his with a quiet
freedom that became her, and was takin him
along in the stream of promenaders that ed
round the room.

“ How do you like Vienna?” she repeated, as
he did not answer.

“ I do not dislike it. It is a lovely place, and
were it time of peace and I at home here, I
an ht like it well ” he answered, embarrassed,
an not knowing how to get rid of her.

“ And the emperor—you like him, of course!
Ever one adores Kaiser Joseph.”

“ by, madame?”

“ Because he is so good. I remember in the
days before Wagram, when your people held
Vienna and when the black eagle was but a.
beaten bird, the pea le wept for their kaiser’s
hard fate and he Napoleon worse than a
Prussian.”

“ Were you in Vienna then?” he asked, in the
hope of finding out something of this mysteri-
ous woman.

“I have been everywhere, count. But
are to have an audience tomorrow, I hear.’

“ Madame?”

“I heard it. No mystery about it. I was in
the crowd when the emperor granted it. I
know what you have come for; but you will

not et it.”

“ ow do on know iti”

“ I know t. You have to secure the active
support of Schwarsenborg’s army" but it will
not enter the quarrel on your side.

Gabriel listened to the confident tone in which
she .ssoke, and retorted: .

" on say that because you hope it; but vou
must remember that I am French, not 5.

nan.”

“ And how do you know that the French do
not hope the same as I?” .

“ No true Frenchman could desire the fall of
the test man in France.”

“ e will fall, for all that. and France be
happier for it. But come, count; I did not

e your arm to quarrel with you. I told on
once that if you would leave the service of {his
r I could rocure you a better—”

“ ardon me,” be interrupted flushipc deep-
ly. “I do not like to be uncivil to a My, but
I must decline to listen to any proposition to
hem my chief.”

H I ve not asked you to do it. I have mere-
ly told you—reminded you—’f

“ Of an offer that should never have been
made to a soldier, madame.”

“ As you please.”

The lady seemed nettled at his tone.
on will be sorry for it. I will

e me to my brother. count.”
H Wit re, if madame will indicate the
person the way to find him."

“ You know bun well enough. It is the man
who owns your life.”

Her tone had a sly, triumphant malice in it
which mifrised him, and her dark eyes rested
on his wit a meaning expression. .

u I will not aflect to misunderstand an." be
sai slowly. “ The gentleman of w you
s _ isthebitterenemyofll‘ranoe. sts
foolish enough to lace mv life in his pewer. I
will conduct you him if you wish. I see him

011

Ollo

,. .

’ The Maxim.  a

su- x,.., "

 

onder. He goes by the name of Gruplsch here,
believe.”

She smiled more complacently.

“ I did not think you would admit it. You
are a brave man, count, to acknowledge a de-
feat so freel . ’

“We willng there, if you please,” be said,
coldly; and he took her across the room to
where he saw the mysterious general standing
by himself, his back against the wall.

As they came near him, the prince said:

“ I am going to introduce you. I want you
to be friends, you two. It is strange what an
interest I take in you.”

“ I am flattered, madame. I wish I could
divine the cause.” '

“ Some day you will. In the mean time-3’

She touched the strange general on the arm,
and said gayly:

“ Why so thoughtful, man char. Here is the
Count of Friedland, whom I have been for an
hour trying to convert from the error of his
ways, and he wishes to know you.”

The eneral raised his dark magnetic eyes to
those 0 Gabriel, and said slowly:

“ We know each other already. Well, count,
you see I told you the truth. You have left an
arm behind you in Russia. You will leave
anot er in Germany." ' .

“That remains to be seen ” replied Gabriel,

roudly. “ For my part am tired of one
thing, which is this restraint under which I am
with regard to you, general. Will you see me
tomorrow at some quiet place? I wish to ter-
minate our dispute that began at Fontaine-
bleau.”

The stranger bowed coldly.

“ I will see you at sunset on the bridge,” he
said.

 

CHAPTER XXVI.
run norm.

AT sunset of the next day Gabriel, Count of
Friedland, looking gloomy, and as if he cared
‘ nothing what became of himself, walked onto
the bridge across the Danube, and stood leaning
against one of the parapets as if waiting for
some one.
He had doffed his showy uniform and wore
the simple black coat of a citizen, in which he
had become merged into the crowds that
thronged the streets of the city of Vienna.

He stood there, ta ping his boot with a light
cane and watching t e stream of passengers, till
he saw the tall form of General Grupisch coming
toward him, likewise in civilian dress.

Then he stood up and saluted the other for-
mally, a courtesy returned by the stranger
with a curt nod as he seed him and indicated
that he wished to we] on.

They creased the bridge, and when they were
at the other side, Grupiech observed brusquely:

“ Well. what is it? You wished to speak to
me, monsieur.”

“ I did. 1 am tired of seeing you on the other
side and being unable to fight you. I Bropose
that we resume our where we le of! at
Fontainebleau.” ‘

“ When my foot was on your chest my
sword at your throat, you mean?" said the
general, sharply.

“Precisely, ’ was the cool reply. “ I can die
if need be; but I cannot live onger like this.
You are able to foil me at every turn."

The stranger uttered a short laugh as they
struck out into the country on the other side the

nube.

“ It is true, I foil you. is it not! What did
the emperor say to on this morning?” _

“That is my affair. Your quest on is not to
the point.”

“And needless besides. Shall I tell you the
words he spoke.”

Gabriel looked at him steadily.

“ If you can, you must have obtained your
knowled e by eavesdropping.”

" Noth ng of the sort. was in the very
room where you saw the emperor. I am bound
to admit you stated your case well. To hear
you one would think this Bonapartastill the
first man in Europe with every one for allies.”

“ Where were you?" asked Gabriel, amazedly.
“ There was not a screen in the room.”

“ I require no screen, in ur. I was in the
room, within six feet of where you stood. I
rill tell you what the Kaiser said, if you doubt

t

“ Tell me then.”

“ He told you that while he sym thiaed with
the misfortunes of the Emperor apoleon and
loved him as a son-in-law, his duty to the
empire was above that to his daughter, and that
if the French were driven behind the Elbe, he
would be compelled to join the coalition to pre—
vent the invasion of his own territories by the
Russian forces. That he would for the present
remain neutral, but that your emperor could
look for. no help from the soldiers who had
fou ht him at Austerlita, Wags-am and a bun.
drefi other battles within twenty m”

Gabriel bowed his head.

“Youheard it all. If www.mth

on must have been there y the consent of the
Emmy-or Joseph.”

' '. i. 'll" ;' . 4‘ iii yout'rznzoning. I was.

 

It was understood that I should be. to insure
fair lay for my master, the Czar Alexander.”

“ he office was a fitting one,” retorted Gabriel
bitterly. “ A renegade should be a spy and an
eavesdropper.”

The face of the other darkened and his eyes
lowed as they walked on, but he said nothing
or some time till at last he seemed to have suc-

ceeded in swallowing his passion.

His voice was rather husky then:

“ You are trying to taunt me into killing
you I see. Have a care. I in? do it.

“I have told you alread am w ling to
die,” said Gabriel. “ I shou d not e sought
this interview but for that.”

“ But you are unarmed.” _.«-

“You are not. You have a sword-cane in
your hand now. Yonder is a wobd that has
plenty of solitary nook's. Let us go in there.

hen we will take up the di ute where we left
it and I will force you to k' 1 me or be killed.”

Grupisch shook his head.

“ You propose an assassination. I could not
commence a duel under such auspices.”

“You must. I will force you. ’

Again the stranger seemed to have some dif-
ficult in controling his passion.

“ ou cannot force me to do anything. When
I was in France in the midst of foes, you could
not do it, how much less now, when you are
surrounded by foes, I by friends. I will not
fight you. Besides, you must be desperate to
think of such a thing. Your chief will need
i111 the soldiers he has to keep ofl his fall awhile

onger.

“ He will keep them of! forever. I do not see
what he has ever done to you, besides, that should
turn you into the enemy of France. You once
served I believe.”

“Did I serve! Yes. And what was my re-
ward from this jealous upstart?”

Gabriel noticed with surprise that the other
seemed to be intensely irritated at the Vailed in-
sinuation conveyed in his own speech:

“ You once served, I believe.”

“ Yes, I once served and won a greater name
than he had in those days. You want to know
what he has done to me. Well, young man, you
shall hear, and when you have heard, then if
you persist in demanding this fight I will grati-

y you. Come here.”

He took Gabriel by the arm and they hur-
ried into the woods till they came toa rustic
seat in a lonely glade where no one was in sight
within several hundred vards.

Then the stranger said to Gabriel:

“ Sit down there and listen.”

The young man took his seat and awaited the
other’s movements with some impatience and a
great deal of curiosity. He thought that he
was at last going to penetrate the mystery of
this stranger, who came from no one knew
where.

Meantime the strange general paced up and
down before him in a rapid nervous manner as
if much excited. He seemed to be angry and
yet hesitatinguwhether to speak or not. At last

e front of Gabriel and began

muglh‘liy:

“ ou’t know why I should tell you all this
story exeept that you—never mind that. I
have a reason for feeling an interest in you.”

“ What is it!” demanded Gabriel. “ You
have insinuated that and so has the French
Princess Doktoroff who claims to be your sister.
I do not want your interest. You are enemies
to your country.”

The stranger ground his teeth.

“It is fa so. We are enemies on] to him
who has destroyed France. I have one more
for it in my da than ever he did. We love
France better t an he, for we have saved the
lives of thousands of French soldiers from the
knees of the Cossacks.”

“ Whom you led on i” interjected Gabriel.

“Be it so. I led them against the usurper.
But let that pass. You wish to know what in-
terest I take in you. Young men, the same
blood” runs in our veins. You are my kins.
m-m. .

Gabriel looked searchineg at him.

“ Your kinsman ?”

“l have said it.”

“Then I am sorry for it, if it be true.”

0‘  r,

“ Because you have dis ced the family. Is
your real name Lenoir? never heard of a Le-
noir that fought against France. My father
was a noble, but he died on the field defending
the re ublic."

“‘ yname is not Lenoir. What it is you
Will never know. You sa t{Your father died de-
fendin the Republic? 1),, o, fought for the
Repub ic. That was Francs. But when the
Esople tired of governin themselves there was

t one course for me to he.”

“And what was that?"

“To return to the line of St. Louis, not to
take a‘fonigner to rule over them.”

“That is a matter of o inion, eneral.”

“Itwas. I held to t e on experience
had formed. France, under t e kin , was w-
erful and respected, acknowledged: by a the
world. The republic, too was acknowledged.
The empire has never yet been acknowledged.”

“ I“? j‘nir‘srd. you mutiny,”

 

“ It matters not. I held to the opinion that
the king‘s right returned when the people failed
to govern themselves. you know what was
In reward for holding those opinions?”

abriel did not answer.

“ I will tell you, That man, by his myrmi-
dons under Fouche, undertook to kill me and
blast my name forever and ever. Now I will
tell you the story; then judge.”

CHAPTER XXVII. ,
run EXILE’S sronv.

Tim singular stranger began his story in a:
low, hurried voice, as if trying to keep dowp
his excitement.

“ You do not know who I am, but I knew you
when you were a baby in arms, and I knew
thisman from C(rsica when he flrsr came to
Brienne. I was a general before he was a cap-
tain, and I beat the Prussians and Hollanders
before he was ever heard of. I never 1 t a
battle. You think I am boasting, but it is ue.
Well, time went on: the Revolution had degen—
erated into the Reign of Terror. The rule of
the people of France, the great people I served,
had vanished. In its stea was the rule of the
Paris mob. .Then I became disgusted. I left
the service and retired to a foreign land to live
till Frenchmen regained their manhood. Then
he had his chance. When he took ('cmmsnd in
Italy there was no republic. It was a Directory
of five kings, who vied with each other in theft.
Bonaparte was their tool and a fitting one. He
made war like a brigand, and plundered Italy to
enrich himself. Still I did not envy him. I
had known him at Brienne. a boy of boundless
egotism, with little to back it. Had I taken
service against him, as I was pressed to do, he
would never have won Lombardy and Venice.

 

Well, I watched and waited for France to re-- '

I was content. He was a.
thief, perha , but he won victories. Time
passed on. e went to Eg t, and while he
was gone, the people were a l tired of the Di‘
rectory, and wishedto get back their old sov-
ereign. I came to France and found them ripe
fora change of government. They had tired
of anarchy. Then came the news that he had.
lost a grand fleet for us, and that the French
army was shut u in the East. But he was not.
shut up. No. e deserted his men, left them
tothe mercies of the English and Turks, and.
came home to do what! I ask you, young man,
to do what!” .

“ To save France,” replied Gabriel, prompt] .

“To ruin her, you mean. To overturn t e:
representatives of the ople b the swords of‘
his fellow-bandits, an to make himself—that:
boy whose ears I used to cut! at Brienne—to-
make himself the ruler of France. Well, I
thought it was time to strike then, to find out it
the people really wanted this upstart for a ruler.
I came to Paris. I had a ht to come there. I.
had made no war against rance. But Iwas
forced to come in disguise. It was at the time of
the J acobin (plot of the infernal machine. I had
nothing to o with it, but for all that Fenche
found me out. I was arrested and thrown into
prison. And then what think you was my fate?"

“ I do not know. Pmbablynexiled to Cayenne.”
replied Gabriel. “ I was the ranks at the»
time, and heard but little of the plot, but I un-

derstood some were executed, others exiled,

sume her reason.

while one or two committed suicide in prison.” ~

The eneral‘s es flashed.

“S cide ind l Murder oumean. Listen-
I was confined in a dark
lawyer, refused anything, refused won a cap
of t e charge against me. I asked for it
and again. I knew I had done nothing
even his upstart rule. I wasa Frenchman visit-

ing Paris; that was all. One morning I heard.

that they were tryiu Moreen, and that tho
peo le cheered him as e went tooourt. Then I
sai to myself ‘Moreau is Bonaparte’s rival.
He will get rid of him. I am another. If I
come into the streets the will cheer me. He
will never forgive that. scent danger.’ The
next day at dawn I was amaulted in my dun-

ungeomrefused a.
y.
in

by four men. Ikllled two with my hero I ‘

ands, monsieur, In bare hands: but the others ‘

can ht me frombe indth I was choked into ‘ l
e

per ect insensibili tho t me dead
and left me, chuck] ng, no oubt. n I came
to myself I was in a coffin, in the receiving vault

of Pere la Chaise; with moldering bodies around

me.”
Gabriel shuddered sl htly.
“Ugh! A battle-fled is one thing, but a

charnel house is u 1y."
The stranger looied ly at him.
you know what it b

“ Do you think so!
to wake up in the darkness. to smell the bodies:
all round you, and to be screwed down into a.
box so close that on are smothering anew! To-
feel alive and y conscious toeverything, and
yet to be unable to We fin erl To have a son;
of lead on your chest. your mbs bound in fetr
ters of bramwhile you cannot even groan, for
somethln e a wad of cotton in your throatt
Well, tha was my position on that nightcf tor-
ture. My only occupation to lie and think. and
think, and
mad. I tell youayoung man. it in: in that.
nightI first learn what have w -s and that I
swore to must-1f that if I evvr got out- of that

think. till it seemed as if I must 30 ~

153‘; w

I;



 

-——

 

'20

The Man“ in Red.

 

2:

 

hell-hole alive I would not rest till I had rid
France of the scourge that amicted her, playing
the pranks of a king with the manners of a
grocer.”

He stopped to wipe his forehead, and Gabriel
asked him then:

“And how did you seen. at last?”

“ Natu're aided me. T e agon in which I
'was burst out of my forehead in a loody sweat,
and I was able to move. I braced m knees
against the lid of the coffin and force it out
easil , for it only had four light screws, and
then“ knew I was saved. I was still dressed as
I had been, and I remembered that I had a tin-
der-box in my pocket. I struck a light, found
where I was. and had the pleasure of reading
my own coffin plate. It was then that t a idea
struck me that henceforth I was safe in rance.
My death established, I might walk past the po-
lice with no other danger t an that of b ing re-
marked on as a very striking likeness, if I could
only procure the burial of that collie.”

“ And how did you do it?"

“ Easily enough. I weighted the coffin with
earth and stones, put back the lid and all was

' safe there.”

" But how did you get out of the vault?"

“ Waited till the morning, when it was 0 ened
b the men coming for my own funera , and
‘tgen I hid away behind some coflins and came
out to mingle with the ore wd.”

“ But did no one recognize you ?"

“How could they? was unknown, save in
the Republican uniform, as you saw me at
Moscow—"

“Then it was you we saw? How did you
manage that deception?"

“It is not so dimcult in these days. Never
mind how I did it. It was done. I listened to

' my own funeral service, and heard the people

' secret.

speak of me. It is an experience that does not
fall to every man. Since then I have kept my
Bu: since then also, I have begun my
revenge on the man who murdered my name

 

l
l
l
i

r

CHAPTER XXVIII.
HOME AGAIN.

TEE autumn leaves were falling in the
old forest of Fontainebleau, that year w en a
lad , walking in the garden of the palace and
we hing a c ild at play. looked up at the sound
of horses’ hoofs and uttered a scream of sur-
prise and joy as she recognized the figures of
two riders.

The foremost wore a general’s uniform and
rode a lack horse, the other was a cuirassier,

nd

his 0rd ly.
The l y screamed out:
“Oh, abriel, look, look, it is papa at last!

Oh, man Dieu I”

And th , like a regular woman, she turned
faint and ould have fallen had not her hus-
lhand leaped 03 his horse and run up to support

er.

As for the child, a sturdy boy of five, he
stood staring at the two men as if he had never
seen them before, and the grim old cuirassier
threw up his hands in astonishment. crying:

“ Is it possible? The little count has not for-
gotten old Casse Tete surely.”

And then the oungster stared at him harder
than ever, and ally ran to him, screaming:

" Casse Tete, Casse Tete, put me on the
horse, put me on the horse!"

The old soldier was delighted. He can ht up
the boyvin his arms and hugged him via ently,
while something very like a tear stole down his
scarred old cheeks, and his voice resembled that
of a raven as he muttered:

“ The little count knows me? He is the gen-
eral over again! Eh, mon Dieu, how he has
grown and what curls i”

It was pretty to see the contrast between the
happy child, with his bright curls, and the
scarred and wrinkled face of the rugged old
('uirassier, and to note the perfect love, harmony

3 and confidence that existed betWeen them, as
i seen as the child recognized him. He pulled the
‘ long white mustache and put his little hands up

and left me, before the people of France, in the 1
light of a traitor, too cowardly to meet his ,
fate. Do you know what the Mmiteur said .

about me?”

“I have heard of it, but I never read it, nor
knew to whom it referred.”

“Others have, ‘and I am cursed with the
name which will go down to history as a sui-
cide.”

“Then why not announce yourself now and
belie the report?”

“Who would believe it? Ishould be styled
an impostor, trading on a resemblance. He
has willed that I should be dead. Very well.
To the world I will be dead. But he knows
better. He knows who I am and dare not
reveal it. To do so would be to seal his own
shame. He knows that his own a cute stran-

led me, and he thought I was sad till he

ound I was alive, when I saw him in Moscow.
For seven years I have haunted him and defied
his power to find me. Now my turn has come.
It is too late for him even to search my grave.
When he reaches France it will be as a man
without wer, surrounded by enemies, and my
triumph ice in the fact that he knows I am the
bra" is of the coalition against him.”

There was a singular air of exaltation about

this angular man, as he thus spoke. that caused

a sudden suspicion to creep) through the mind
of the youn general. He sgan to suspect the
sanity of h s companion, and to see in him a
monomniac.

W other he were, or not. it was plain to
Ga 91 that the man had suffered a great wrong
at the hands of the emperor, and that he coul
halrf-dly pursue his quarrel with honor to him-
so

, The stranger ceased his story and began to
pace up and down again, like a wild beast in a
cage till he stopped and said roughly:

Well. you ve heard. Do you still wish
to compel me to fl ht you?”

“You have to! me that you are my kine-
man, general, and that bars our quarrel any
further.” \

“ Good. Some day, when the lilies wave over

‘ France, I will tell you who I am. Till then, be

silent on what I have said. You may yet have

‘ reason to thank the fates that made me a

relative.” .

“ And the princess. Does she know?”

“ The princess is my sister.”

“ Will you tell me where I saw her in France?
I am sure I did.”

“I will. She was in Paris as my agent and
that of our people, under the name of Camille
Lenormand.”

“ Camille Lenormandl”

And Gabriel’s mind went back like a flash

to the night, three years before when he and
the emperor had made their pikrimage in the
Faubourg St. Antoine, and ha stumbled on
the fortune-teller’s house. How absurd her
gredictions had seemed to him then, and how

iflerent they seemed now. He was recalled
from his reverie by the voice of the general,

who said:
“I am goin to bid you farewell. I leave
Vienna to-nigh . When you see the usurper,

tell him you saw me and watch his face. Good-
night."

 

to pat the rou h old cheek and never so much
as noticed his ather all the time, so wrapped
up was he in his old dry nurse and horse, the
ancient Casse Tete.

“And where hast thou been all this time?”
he pnttled on. “I‘ve had no one to give me
rides since thou went away, Casse Tete; for
momma, she cries, and cries, and 1 don’t have
any fun any more. Oh how long it has beenl
Put me on the horse, Casse Tete.’

The veteran obeyed muttering:

“ A , ay, how long! nearly two years now.”

Am so it was. The day that Gabriel and
Casse Tete left Fontainebleaujn the early spring
of 1812 was their last adieu to home for eighteen
months. and now it was late October of the
next year.

And little Gabriel had nearly forgotten his
father and Casse Tete in that long absence. But
with the true happy selfishness of a child he only
thou ht of his own little pleasures now and was
so ta en up with the horsesand their littering
trappings that he aid no heed to ether or
mother, till he hear a voice saying:

“ And has Gabriel for otten papa ?”

Then he looked up an saw his mother still
weeping hysterical g for joy on the breast of
her tail, handsome usband, and little Gabriel
nodded consequentially and replied:

‘ “ No. apa, I have not forgottena but you see
I have manage this horse, an I can’t be
bothered kissing anybody.”

This little saucy speech caused Casse Tete to
double up with admiration as he said to his
master:

“Is it not Wonderful my general? Such a
spirit! Such a flow of language. Ah, he was
born to be a colonel of culrassiers. The Death’s
Heads can never refuse him. See how he has
picked up the curb reins. Heal Cosaque, hoal”

For the big black horse feeling the tiny
strength of the child on the curb bit was back-
ing into a flower bed and in den r of rearing,
so that the end of it was that aster Gabriel
had to give up the reins 'and be content with
the saddle for a perch, from which be gracious-
ly kissed pa a and told him:

“ I am find you have come back; for it is so
stupid to ave a mamma that does nothing but
or all the time.”

‘And does mamma cry all the time?” asked
Gabriel, fondly stroking the raven hair of his
beautiful young wife.

“Always, papa, slyy‘s, and then she reads
the papers. and they a 0 her cry more. Tell
me. papa. is the emperor a butcher now; does
he keeg a shop?"

“W at makes you ask that, my child?” said
his father. curiously.

“Because Madame St. Jean was saying to
mamma the other day that he was onlv a
 after all, who was up to his knees in

" Hush! Gabriel,” said the mother, with an
anxious glance at her husband. on whose face
a shadow had fallen, “ hush. Little boys should
not talk so much.”

“But you know she said so," persisted the
child, “and you got angry with her. And I
made up my min to ask papa when he came
home if it was true. Does t e emperor keep a
butcher shop, papa?”

 

my child, no,” answered Gabriel,
“Madame was only 'oking. Come
Alas, we ve not very

it No,
hastily.
into the house, Inez.
long‘to be to ether. ”

ISv‘iri‘i"? pm i 3.1.. n

‘ t are you go ng awa a l

And Gabriel set up a shout: y

“ You sha’n’t go, 1you sha’n’t. I won’t have
it. All the other c ildren have papas, and I
want one tool"

“See, my little count," interposed Casse Tete,
dexterously, “ Cosaque wants to go to the
stable. Shall we not 0?” I will show you
how to take 01 a and la and we’ll feed the
horses.”

So Gabriel the less was comforted and forgot
everythin else in the superior interest of the
horses, w ile Gabriel senior walked to the
house, his arm round his wife.

She had watched him closely from the mo-
gieiét] he had ridden up, and now she said,
on y:

“Oh, man char, how I have missed theel I
have watched and watched the Mom'teur, and
Icannot understand it all. Ever day a vic-
tory for our people, and yet they eep on fight-
ing those detes able Germans and Russians.
And they have such hard names to their places.
But it seems to me, man Cher, that this war
lasts a long time. Thou wert not in earnest
that thou must go again, Gabriel?”

He looked at her sadly.

“Inez, ma belle, evil days are coming for
France. My father fell on French soil when I
was a child, and since that day no enemy has
invaded us. We have fought our battles in the
enemy’s country, and lived on him.”

“ And is it not so still, mo'n cher? We heard
that the emperor was at Dresden, and surely
the Emperor of Austria will not aid the enemies
of his son-in-law.”

“lnez, the emperor was at Berlin in the
s ring. From thence he fell back to Dresden.

rom thence to the Elbe. Now he is—in
France!” '

“ In France 1”

“Yes; but not for long. Did you not hear
that we had fought at Leipsic?” '

“We heard that there was to be a battle
there. but since then news oes not come.”

:‘ The battle was lost. The Grand Army, as-
sailed two to one, was nearly destroyed. There
are not sixty thousand men left, including the
Old Guard, and the enemy are coming,
two hundred thousand strong, to cross t e
Rhine.”

She turned pale and clung to his arm.

“ And you; you need not go, need you? There
are enough to fight without you.”

“I must go, Inez. The em ror gave me
leaveto visit you, but that is a . We have to
raise fresh le es, to arm them, to hurry them
to the frontiers.”

“But winter is coming. They do not move
in the winter, do they?"

She asked the question hopefully, for a sol-
gifer’s wife learns much of the routine of camp

e.
“Not often; but sometimes they do. The
battle of Eylau was fought in a snow-storm,
and my poor old Death’s Heads have cause to
remember it. Thank heaven for the winter.
however. It will give us time to Ere But
I shall be away a long time. til, reassure
thyself, ma belle. There will be no heavy fitm-
ing Ell next year I think.”

“ ut thou wiil be away. Ah, Gabriel, let
me with thee.”
no, Ines. It is my place to fight and sufler for
France one way; thine to suffer in another.
But we both must suifer. The cup must he
drank.”

She burst out sobbing.

“ Oh, man char, man char. I cannot bear it
much longer. The emperor is a great man, but
he has brought evil da 3 on France. Ten years
of battles, to end in t at last!"

“ It is the will of Heaven,” he answered, sadly.
“ I wish I knew what it would end in, Inez. but
I fear in the worst. The cowardly Royalisb
are raising :1 their heads again, since the
proclamation.’

“ What proclamation?”

“True, they have not dared blish it in
France. The allies have declared at they war
only on the Em ror Napoleon, not on France,
They call him t e Usurper. That means that
they wish to restore the Bourbons to ,the
throne."

Inez started.

“ Then that is the reason St. Jean is growing
so insolent again.”

“ Indeed. What is she doing?”

“Doing. She has made her apartments a
meeting place for numbers of men hat any one
can see are Royahsts. They are thin and
shabby in dress: but they havo the polite
manna of the old noblesse.

Gab l compressed his lips. .

“She does. does she? She plots treason in the
rooms prowded by the' emperor’s bounty. We
will see to that.” .

“What are you about to do?” asked Incl. in
alarm, as he started toward the palace.

“ To see madame, ” he answered.

“gland the child, ma belle, what of him? No,

.a. ‘..__..-,

 

 

.__‘._.__.c.

CHAPTER XXIX.
a NEST or TRAITORS.

Tim apartments of Madame St. Jean in the
palace were large and commodious, and opened
on a wide and handsome terrace, bordered by a
stone balustrade, and overlooking the formal
palaco arden.

As Ggubriel approached the steps that led up
the terrace he heard the sound of many voices,
with laughter and the clink of tea cups, and
surmised that madame had a gathering of some
sort.

The windows of her saloon, going on the ter-
race, were wide open, and he could see people

sing in and out.

Just beyond the terrace was the paved walk
leading to the stables, and he saw Casse
there, with little Gabriel on his shoulders,
coming toward the windows.

As the cuii‘assier passed the place of the
revdry two or three men hurried out to ep
after him. and when Gabriel met him, 
Tete grewied out:

“Tete Dion! my general. All the Chouans
in France are in there. They forget that the
lion is not dead yet.”

“ Inez, take the child,” commanded her
husband, sternly. “We’ll see if his majesty‘s
palace is to be turned into a Chousn rendezvous
ye'.- or if they will wait awhile.”

When that look was on his face Inez did not
dare to interfere. _The fact is, she was mortally
afraid of her husband; had called him
“ monsieur” for years after marria e, and the
last Vear’s absence had only serve to lessen
Still further her familiarity.

So she caught away little Gabriel, who was
beginning to how! a remonstrauce at being dis-
mounted from Casse Tete’s shoulders, and
whis ered:

“ gush, bush, or papa will scold !”

Then she remained on the terrace,
while Gabriel and Cases Tote,
clashing behind them, stalled u to the long
windows and entered the saloon o Madame St.
Jean, which they found full of ladies and
gentlemen, who were all shabbil dressed, but
wore the well-known Royalist e of the
white cockade.

The men had it in their hats, the ladies wore
it pinned on the breast, but not a person in the
room failed to have it in some form, and a doe
silence fell on them all as the oral enter .

Madame la Ma uise was the rst to recover
herself cocoon as o perceived who it was that
had come in.

She rose nervously and exclaimed with an
nflectation of cordinlity:

“ {dear count, what a surprise to see you
and w at a pleasure! We feared you had been
killed or taken risoner in some of those terri-
ble defeats the utcher led you to.”

She did not seem to care about the white
cocksdes now; but to be anxious. for all that,
to show a welcome to Gabriel.

Bohadbocn scanning thoroom ywith-
out removing the ouirnmior helmet he wore,
and everywhere mot cold stares. Now he spoke

out:

“ This lace belongs to the Emperor of
the Freuclxi’.a I propose that we all about “ Vice
’1 Empermr.’dThe malthat refit-2:11 :hall hold

rsonnll an hvsi mp0 0.
peThon h: took 2!! his h met. The glances bo-
csmo sullen and lowerin ; but no man stirred.
He watched them amid and silence for a few
seconds, and then suddenly shouted, with a
stamp of his foot:

“ Shim or !”

At the some moment Came Tote. with a sav-
age scowl, cis pod his hand on his sword to
hard that all h t armor rattled, and up jumped
every man in the room as if he had been struck.

Then Gabriel and Cute Tote waved their
helmets in the air and shouted “ Vice l’ Em-
psmr," and a faint murmur of the some words
was heard from the gentlemen with the white

Gsbmlhoard it and clapped on his helmet
in. with a. proud smile.
hen he turned on Madame St. Joan:

“ I came to no on, Madame la Marquise. to
inform you that h " majesty the Emperor Na-
poleon will ver likely be here this evening,
with the Duke Otrsnto, and that the police
ordinance as ' .no wearing of Chounn badge.
Wm b0 enforv- .d with unusual Itrictnou."

Marquise looked thuudorstruck.

“ emperor! Hero? Why, we thought-—”

“You thought him in Germany. He is at
Paris,nn thoarmyistobeincrouodbya
new levy. His mljeuty orders that all persons
wearing Chouan badges be sent to the front It
32%,? work on the fort- at Strasbourg and

0

While 5° W” Wank he could hardly help
1511811108 ‘0 “Elbe 81! Way in which one man
after another picked uphis hat ma mi; it be.
hind his back, where he began fumbling about
to take 0! the white cookado.

They were not a formidable not, the“ .0“, of
the ha hty nobles of Francis 1, who“ we...
tonh driven the English from France, and
swelled at the court of Louis XIV.

The nobility of their blood had long ago

lpitating,
eir sabers

 

The Man in 

dwindled into a turbid stream. They were
thin and puny, flat of chest, pale of face, with
small white hands, cleanshaven facesand a gen-
eral air of delicate refinement that suggested
satin and snuff-boxes, rather than steel armor
and gold spurs. The older gentlemen among
them still wore the costume of the previous
century and some old ladies had their hair
powdvre ‘.

Truly they were not a formidable set of con-
spirators, and the two cuirassiers had the as-
pect of giants by contrast.

Vhen he saw that there was not a white
cockade visible on the hat of a man, Gabriel
continued to the marquise:

“The Duke of Otranto, as you are aware, is

. a very brutal person with the old J acobin man-
Tete '

ners, and he told me, only this morning, that
the women were giving so much trouble in the
Faubour St. Germain with their tea-party

lots, we coming Prussian spies and so on, that

e had determined in future to hold the male
members of their families to a strict account
for the deeds of the ladies, as if done by them-
selves."

The marquise looked disturbed.

“I do not understand on, my dear count.
To what does he object, or exam 1e?”

“ Well, for example, it seems t at there are
some ladies indiscreet enough to Wear Chouan
bad es in France."

“ es, and what then?”

“ Well, Fouche says that if he catches a woman
with one on, he will order her arrest a once,
find out who she is, and then arrest and bliciy
whip all the male members of her family he
can find.”

"Ah, the monster! Ah, the rufllanl” cried
several excited female voices.

“Exactly. It is as you say, ruiflanly, but
what would you have, marquise? The duke
has the power and will use it. I hope you will
warn any of your friends that may be indis-
creet that unless they wish to see their brothers,
husbands, fathers and sons publicly whi 'ped,
they would do well to hide their white coc es
till the Bourbons come back.”

lVithouta word of remonstrance. the white
badges disappeared from the breasts of the
ladies as rapidly as they had from the hat: of
the men, and then Gabriel took 03 his helmet
and said, smililu‘gll‘y:

“And now, -‘ ame la Ma uise, I will take
my leavo. I have just returns from the front.
The army is retreating and the cnem will
soon be on the soil of France. I do not intend
to deceive ion on this .point. The country is in
dangrr an it is the dut of every Frenchman
to take up arms in her efense.”

Then he suddenly wheeled round.

“ These gentlemen are French, I presume?”

The Were silent and confused, but one stam-
me out:

“.Yes, yes, to be sure. We are French.”

“ The guard will be here to-night and all able- ,

bodied men will be put into the ranks at once,”
said Gabriel, coolly. “I would advise you
gentlemen to leave this village as soon at
possible and get into Normandy or Brittany to
avoid the conscription. It will sweep clean
this time, I assure you.

“And on say the guard will be here to-
nigh ” as ed a young man, nervously.

‘ [expect them every minute monsieur."

h The loung man caught up his hat and mid
urn y: ‘

“ Will madame excuse my further—i”

“Certainly, M. lo Duo. certainly. It is a
case of urgenc ,” smiled she, but her face was
pale through t o rouge as she spoke.

Then the young man bolted out of the window
and sevoral others rose up as Gabriel asked:

" And who was that, madame, for example?”

“ That! That was the Duke do Grammont,”
she whi cred agprohensively. “For God’s
sake don’ expose m.”

Then. first one, then another, of the guests
began to t up and how their excuses till a
regular 5 m s set in, and at last Gabriel
found h'msel alone with the in nine. Caste
Tots having vanished to look after t o outsiders
and Ines pooping apprehensiver in at the
window.

As for the marquiso, she looked haggard and
her eyes fell beneath hit when she found herself
alone. tin he asked her abruptly:

"Wei, madame, do you wish to remain .in
these apartments or not?”

“I do not understand, mousieur. 1—”

“ You hold them by the bounty of his ma-
jesty, the Emperor of the French, who pays

on a pension; yet I find you in the midst of

houans and wefiring a Chounu badge. Do
you wish to leave rancei”

“ No, no. for Heaven‘s sake, no. mousieur! I
do not. It would be ruin. The villainous
Jacobins robbed me of my 985M831 and the
emperor has not restored them. I have nothing
to live on and I am old.”

“ Then let that keep you from plotting. I
will not conceal from you that it is possible the
emperor may fall, but it will not be from
Royalist plots. It will take all the armies of
Europe to master him, and till then he is not a
man to suffer treason in his rear. Now,
madame, where is the Biron do Believillo,

 

 

Grand Forester? I have not seen him here as I
e cted to do.”

‘ The baron? Ah, yes—well—in fact—count.
the baron and I have quarreledl”

“ About what?”

“ About—well, about this—he insists that he
eats the emperor’s bread and cannot betray
him till the nation declares him deposed from
the throne.”

“The baron is an honorable gentleman and
it is no more than I expected from him. ave
you lately seen anything of the general that
used to live in the secret chamber in the tower
of Francis 1., madame?” ,

The m-irquise threw herself back, glaring at
him as if frightened to death.

“ My God! what do you know of him?”

“ I know him to be a person in whom you
take a great interest, one closer than any one
else of whom I know, and he informed me not.
many months ago that he was my own kins-
man. Do you know him?”

She was positively haggard now.

“ I don’t know him—i don’t. It is false!”

“I am sorry. I hoped to get some informa- ,
tion on the subject. I thoughtI might even
find him here.”

“ He is not; I have not seen him for a long
time. He is in Russia.”

The words come by jerks, as if forced out
against her will, and abriel answered:

“ I thought you did not know him.”

“ I do not—that is—”

She kept staring at him like a hunted animal,
and he saw that she was very much afraid of
any reference to the absent general, so he‘laid,
soothingly:

“ Never mind, madame. I came home to see
m family, not to spy into any one’s aflairt.

eep your white badges out of sight for the
present. Good-by.”

CHAPTER XXX.
ran LAST nit-roan.

IN the midst of a winter on sign; the one-
my on the soil of France. ud everywhere,
the roads trodden into a sticky quagmire by
the hoofs of thousands of horses, and cut up by
ion trains of guns and wagons.

T e quiet civilian, sitting. on his summer
piazza, reading of a winter campaign, does not
realize what those two words mean. Thecol-
dior who has been through one never wishes to
repeat the experience. _ .

t is a constant struggle with nature the
enemy; and nature is equally hard on ricnd
and foo.

It means short, crawli marches, in mud up
to the knees, where one in e is worse than in
in summer; camps where sullen men sit round
in more mud, shivori by their fires; when
the horses lim along with sore heels, their ribs
sti ' out, heir heads droow; whore tho
one ob ect of man’s lifeis to n a dryplaoo
and to stay thgoa and where both oral. In

mi? develo into academies of the finest
o swearing at the misery. '
Battles in such weather are grim, (1%?-
lorious daughters; into which men move . ’ o
y, with rusty weapons, and where unit of n
hoatoneuemyisaconfosssd im t .

And it was intosuchacnm gnthatanlpitll,
Count of F ' found himself fared
Jan , 1814.

Of the linmensc host of the Grand Army
that had marched through Europe so proudly;
after all the reinforcements of couscr to that;
could he amembled, only seventy t ouund
men could be brought to bear against nearly
three hundred thousand Russians. Prnmhns,
Austrians, Bavarians, Belgians, and all the
hosts thathnd bowed to the con ucror in his
pmsliierity and deserted him in hour of his

pen .
To Gabriel, who had been hitherto ,
3.3.32 “.333?” first..." “mam.” ‘°
me man the was
onothatwathardtorealino. .,
Every one seemed to have deserted them-
peror, save those he had treated the win-It.
Murat, his favorite, whom he had mode I '
king, had mncluded a shameful peace with tho
aili while Eugene. who had seen his mothk
re iated and re ace-of Aus—
ti
w

placed b a
fought still on the si e of his “Mei!-

Bernadottc, whom Napoleon had made a
marshal and a prince, turned against him and.
was leading an arm to fight against French-
men, while Macd d. the latest made of all
the gambit, stood like a rock in defense of his
mas r. /

And the em ror himself. M was a
change from t am who led half a minim
of men to Moscow!

General Bonaparte, when he invaded Italy,
twenty can before, had more men undorhic
orders t n the Emperor of the French could
muster in asingie army, of less than forty
thousand men.

The allies were in Lorraine and had Won it
without firing a shot. The French had fallen
back to Chalons and all expected rest forawhilc.
Blucher in Christmas week, began his march.
toward Paris, and by the end of January two
hundred thousand foes were in Alsace.

 

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.,.

-ulin-..'ig

 

‘ahdothcsrmywastr gtossvci.

.,- .. .. if...

v», '

 

2‘2

 

 

    '

 

' Then on the 25th January 1814, the allies be-
. an their last march, and the emperor showed
that the General Bonaparte, who had fought
thirty battle: in two years, and defeated six
armies larger than his own, was still alive.

Then came the last struggle, as the desperate
«emperor, with only forty thousand men threw
himself into the midst of his foes, and struck
ri ht and left, hurling back, first one then the
ot er, reeling in defeat.

Wherever he came he won. Wherever the

‘ black bearskins of the Old Guard made their

appearance, Russian, Prussian and Austrian
went down.

If the cavalry had no Murat to lead them,
they needed no leader. They were veterans.
The grim old Death‘s Heads did wonders. They
charged in every battle, rode over the enemy’s
infantry, fought like giants.

Cbampanbert, Montereau, Montm-iruil, they
were at all of them, fighting all day and march-
in all night.

1) one month they had destroyed seventy
thousand of the allies, either as killed, wounded
or prisoners, and it seemed as if France was to
be saved at last.

And then, like a clap of thunder from a clear
sky, came the shameful news that Marmont
had yielded Paris to one army, while the em-
peror Was hard at work 6 hting the others.

And last and worst of al , the Senate, that had
bowed to him in prosperity and recorded his
whims as the edict of a free people, when he
was the idol and tyrant of France, set the seal
on own shame.

With forci troops in Paris the passed a
decree do ng the em ror, and nviting a

st and snuffy old t eman, who had been

vlngin London for wenty ears to take the
throne of France as Louis VIII. And' the
sanity old gentleman entered Paris under a
white flag embroidered with lgold lilies, while
every shopkeeper mounted a w ite cockade, and
the work of the Revolution was undone.

The poo is had driven out the Bourbons; the
Passions ht them back.
Md in the dstof all thesc'disasters Gabriel,

Count of Fricdland, followed by Csssc Tote, rode

into the vi 9 of Fontsincblssu.

remembered that day in after

Ta. mhfldfi‘: .hti i tl da

arm 11 ng nccsssn ,

ywithout song a paper knziwiny

of what was going on, save that, as f

another rosc to take his

‘ He had been sent forward with the remnant
thc’Dcoth's Head Cuirassiers nearl all that
Ht ofhii roud division of can , for it
said thatt encm wssmsrchi onBlzzi-is

n
them, strewn alon the road for miles, wore the
bcruismsigigtomrtzglcruiilas, made vcptg'sns a:
as I: one cam gn, an
 himself was coming.

The army was on the march to save Paris.
As the neared Fontsincbloau the young gon-
an! could not contain his impatience to see his
Wand child, and he dashed on at a sharp trot,
the place half an hour before the
careless of danger from the Cos-

 hc know they were scouting Ill

try.

Rapidly the two old friends—master and scr-
' throu h the forest and entered the
It were a onoly, deserted look. There
wore no men in the streets, and few women and
passed by, one of the women
thaw up her hands with a wild cr : l to Oh

- a . ,

Dim, monsicur, it is
if you ll come sooner!” '
‘ What is too late?" he asked, reining up and
something meaning in her looks.
“ 00 late or anything. Even for the poor

f
emperor. oolste.
‘ m do you mean?” he cried, angrily.
'“hnflnonsicurl Eh, have you not heard
the news?” _

“No. We are coming to drive the Prussians
from before Paris.” ,

“It, monsieur, but they have taken it, and
the Senate says we are to have a king, and no
more 0 ' peror.” .

' “ WHAT!” shouted Gabriel, in a terrible voice.

The r woman began to cry.

“ In eed, I couldn’t help it. It is the Senate,
monsieur. They say we must all wear white
ccckadss and cry ‘ Vice la Rm" now; but I'm
euro I always loved the emperor. He gave my
poor boy the cross." '

Gabriel could hardly understand what she
meant.

“Tell me plainly what you have heard, my
good woman, he said, trying to keep cool.

. “Eh, monsieur, it is onl what I have told
m. say Marshal armont has given up
, and the Senate has deposed the emperor.
It was a white cockade that came in this morn-
ing snd put up the proclamation.”
‘ What proclamation ?"

“ There t is, monsieur.”

She pointed across the street, where a large
flier was nailed up on the side of a house, and
. rodc over to look at it.

It was a proclamation of the Senate deposing
the Emperor Napoleon and announcing that the

E: is

s
s
i
E
E

A

‘4

 

,~.,__._...

 

 

French people had called back to the throne of
his ancestors “ our gracious lord, Lmis XVIII.,
King of France.”

It exhorted all Frenchmen to rally around the
throne and leave the usurper, Napoleon, to the
punishment of his crimes, and closed with the
words:

“ Vrva LE R01!”

To Gabriel. who had grown up under the Re-
public and Empire, the language of the bill
seemed likea profanation. Full of anger and
disgust, he tore down the paper, threw it under

his horse’s' feet, and cried out, so that the people

in the street could hear him:

“ Vive l’Empereurl The army is coming,
and we are going to drive out the Prussians.”

Then he wheeled his horse and dashed up the
street with CnsseTete, to be greeted with a
musket shot, which struck full on his cuirass,
and nearly knocked him over with its force,
though nearly spent.

Casse Tete uttered a warning cry:

“The Cossacks!”

And then they saw a single Cossack ride out
from a cross street, shake his lance defiantly at
them, and trot away. Truly the enemy were
in France at last.

 

CHAPTER XXX].
" T00 urn.

Tm: Cossack was soon perceivod to be the ad-
vanced vodette of a picket of some twenty more
who rode out of the forest on the other side 0
the village, and seemed disposed to attack the
two cuirassiers.

Cases Tete drew his sword and said to his
master, in a matter-of—fact way:

“I can take care of three of them, my gen-
eral, if they don’t spear the horse; but if your
honor will take my advice you will let me go
on alone."

Gabriel shook his head.

“No, no old comrade. If one of us dies,‘so
does the ct r. The regiment will soon be hero
ngw,"and we can keep hose fellows at bay till
t on.

But they could see the Cossacks, clustered to-
gether as if consultin , while they s kc. and
presently some one r 0 out alone w ose green
uniform glittering with gold-lace in the sun
showed him to be an oficer.

He came out alone, and when he was within
a hundred yards or so, Gabriel ined in
him the young Count Doktoroi'f, w ose ac-
quaintance he had made under the flag of truce
at Moscow.

The youn omccr haltcd and took out his
handkerchie as soon as he saw Gabriel plainly,
then came on and called out:

“I spol so for the shot my man fired. He
is a stupid out, and I’ll have him well whipped,
first” I suppose you know the war’s over at

y and handsome, while
Gabriel was rd and tired out with
g? imifiesssnthlobtain-shI:a theatre: months’ cam-
hroug w c c a us passed.

‘fighc war is not over,” rede the young
general emphatically. ‘ His ma esty the Em-

ror of the French is in the do] and will be

are in an hour, so that I would recommend
you to turn your horse and ride back, Count
Doktoroif.” '

The you count looked surprised.

“ Howl ou know my name? Oh, ycs,Isee
now. Pardon me for not rememberin the face,
but ouarc tl cban d. It is onslcur
the nut of ed ad, is not?”

“It is, monsieur, and Master of the Horse to
his Majesty the Emperor of the French.”

h “ 113:2, m dear (finals, reflect. Tllie c {gr

as n e s own peop e an e
allied soveremwn not treat with him. I tell
you the war is over.”

Just at that moment the heard the sound of
a cavalry trumpet, far in t e rear, and Gabriel
threw up his head.

“ Does that sound as if the wars were over?”
he asked. “ Monsieur retire. That is the
trumpet of the Death’s ’Head Cuirassiers. Did
you ever hear of them I"

The Russian bowed his head gravely.

“Who hasinot heard of them?” he said. “ I
have always understood there was not such a
regiment in Europe. Ah, there they come
now.”

” And I tell you, monsieur, to retire,” Gabriel
said, sternly. as the tall crests of the black col-
umn came in sight at the other end of the
street, “the Senate may depose the emperor,
the mob of Paris may bowl for the flag of Louis
as they once yelled- for the tricolor, but the
army will never desert Napoleon till he bids
them disband.”

The you Russian looked round for his own
men, and a ready the Cossacks were turning
their horses to run.

"You see,” observed Gabriel sarcastically,
“they have r izod the uniform and do not
goishwto’ come coscr. Farewell, Monsieur 16

in

“Not farewell,” returned young Doktoroi!
eagnestlg. “ I shall see you again.”
, hon o centered away and the dark column

He looked , h
fin, ha

 

i

 

 

 

of horsemen filed slowly up the street as grim
and gloomy as evu'. Their horses were still
sleek and fat. when the coats of others Wcl‘o
staring, and they took a great ride in the
neatness of their appearance in t e midst of
the hardest campaign.

A flush of pride crossed Gabriel’s face ashe

1 answn‘ed the salute of Major Foulard the sole

surviving field officer of the regiment who rode
at the head, and he said aloud:

“Good day, major. With such men we con‘
(line-red Europe once and we can yet drive the

l'ussians out of France.”

‘ The men heard him and a murmur ran
through the ranks, a murmur of approval of
i the sentiment.
But only two squadrons remained of the once
.‘ famous regiment and these could not muster
1 two hundred sabers.

“Encamp on the outskirts and picket the
forest ” was Gabriel’s order. and the regiment
ppsse on, while the young count rode to the
palace and dismounted at the door of his own
apartments.

Inez seemed to have been waiting for him for
she came out at once looking pale and sad, and
greeted him with the words:

“Ah, mon cher, you'have come home for
glood now. I longed for it; but not this way.

on havs seen the edict.”

“I have torn dowu something which [Intend-
ed to be an edict ma belle ,' but the em ror is
coming. All will be well yet. We sh 1 drive
them out. ”

She shook her head sadly.

“ It is useless, man chcr. They have hoisted
the white flag again and the pie have sub-
mitted. The Marquise de St. mu has gone to
Paris to see the king and it is all over.”

“ How did that proclamation come here.
Inez? Who brought it?”

“A king’s messenger. The people cheered
him and he read it aloud. They shouted ‘ Vii-e
le Roi!’ It is all ovor, Gabriel, but oh, man
cher, how sad I am for the emprcm."

“Who! The Austrian?”

“No, no, not her, but our own, our door
Josephine. “Ah, man cher, the luck left
France when she went back to Malmaison.”

And Inez began to c She had never for-
given the emperor for t o divorce.

Gabriel came into the house while Como Toto
took the horses ronndto the stsb‘lc. No one
seemed tobcstininginthogroundsofflsc

ace.
p“‘1“thre have they all gone?” he asked.

“ To Paris, mon cher. All the world has
gone there to y court to the king;

She seemed at s shadowof tho ght, chscr-
ful Ines he had known and her eyes were sur-
es...“ “rm. .. ......' ,.....

c c .
III-15 the

“Asloc . Alas he was'u nsar
night wit the rest of us. ml of the noise and
excitement. Thsnk Hoavsn,ho ddss not un-
derstand it at.”

“ Has he card them shout ‘ Vice ls Roi?”

“ Y and he docs not like it. Poor child he
shook h 3 little flat at the messenger yostsrds
and screamed out: ‘ Viva I’E‘mpawr ’ as loud
as he could.”

“ Thank God,” said Gabriel fervently.

Ines answered with a d smile. ,

“He has no traitor’s lood in his veins moo
cher, and does not know how tochangc like
older plc.” , ,

J at that moment Gabriel turned his head
to the window and saw the old Baron de Belle-
ville coming slowly alang the terrace, his
hands behind his back, looking at the ground.

He wont to the window and beckoned in his
old comrade, who said, with a sad expremion:

“ You have heard the news, my friend?"

“ I have. It is good for you, baron.”

' De Belleville shook his head.

“ You are wrong. It is true I am. as far as
opinions go, a legitimist; but no one could
serve him ten years, as I have, without know-
ing the greatest man in the world. M friend;
I thought I should be glad. and it is s , I
feel today as if I had lost my only son.” '

Gabriel wrung the old man’s hand.

“Do not be cost down. It is s besv bl0w;
but the emperor is coming. It will all well
again.”

The baron shook his head.

“Do not deceive yourself. He cannot fight
against fate. The protects of the towus will
not obey him. Mon Dieu.’ they are sending in
their submissions from all quarters. In three
weeks he will have no army, and the Allies
have three hundred thousand men in France.”

And _even while they were speaking they
heard the clutter of accouterments and the
rapid Mp of. horses’ feet, as the emperor, at
the head of his staff, rode up to the palace,
while the bands of the infant regiments
could be heard in the forest as t ey ca'mc :8
the road, and the black bear-skins ofthc 0
Guard were in plain view entering the village.

“Now, theln, grit? think thiol” asked gs

oun genera , s n u on sec 0
Cld (guard, baron?" g p y

“ It comes too late," replied the boron, as Ga-

 

briel hurried away to receive his master st the
gates. .

I

 

 

 
  

23‘

 

 

CHAPTER XXXII.
ran ABDICATION.

THE streets of Paris were as full of people as
ever, and they seemed as gay as if the country
were on the topmost wave of prosperity, though
Cossacks were on guard in all the squares, and
Prussian grenadiers bivouacked before the Tui-
leries. The mercurial mob of Paris, that had
booted the corpse of Louis XVI, was enthusias-
tic over his brother and successor, and the only
dark faces to be seen in Paris were those of the
wooden-legged veterans of the Hotel des Inva-
lids, scowling at the invaders and muttering
curses, as they watched the blonde Germans
fraternizing with the shop-girls of the Faubourg
St. Antoine.

And through the midst of this crowd came a
traveling carriage. With four smoking horses

driving up to the Tuileries past the guards, who 3

presented arms as it went by. .

Yet the carria a had an imperial corouet and
the letter N on t e panels, and the mob hissed
it as it passed.

Out of the carriage got a young man in the
uniform of a general of cuirassiers, and went
up the steps of the Tuileries. He seemed to_be
ex ted there, for a Russian officer, flaming
wiggc old lace, came out to greet him.

“ng glad to see Monsieur the Count of
Friedland. His majesty will receive you at
once. You see I told you the truth at Fon-
taineblean—eh, count?"

And young Doktoroif pressed the arm he
held as a si nal to Gabriel, who made no an-
swer but a slight sigh as he walked up the old
familiar stairs that he had pressed so often.

How changed now his condition!

The Czar of Russia lodged in the palace, and
Gabriel had come. as a sug‘phant for terms, to
the man who, a few years fore, had owed the
safety of his army to the generosity of Napo-
leon after the defeat of Austerliiz.

The Tuileries was full of officers, in the uni-
forms of half the nations of Europe. but not a
French tongue could be heard. There were
sentries on every landing and comdor, and a
Red Cossack of the Rumiaanuard paced up
and down beffire wlhat had been the cabinet of
the Emperor a son.

And yet heretrlt wfihat Gabriel saw his
first Frenchman n the 00.

The sl saturnine face of the Duke of Otranto
greeted him, as the ex—minister of Napoleon’s
lice came out of the cabinet rubbing. his
and as if well pleased, and he nodded patron-
i‘ngi toGabriel.

"A ,count, gladtoseeyou. Have youseen
the king yeti" '

“I have come from thel empertar,"_ said the
young general, with hang ty emp asis.
was” has some followers left who are not

aplaces of others."

“ , rhleu," re lied Fouche, with a shrug,
“it is one to me, ing or emperor. You can
keep our on youarenottoop toask
it. -the-hy, are on going in I”

no pointed over h shoulder to the door.

\ Gabriel deigned him no answer, but followed
Count' Doktorofl into the cabinet, where he
found sitting the Csar Alexander, the King of
Prussia, Marshal Blucher, Prince Schwartzen-
berg, commander of the Austrian contingent,
and half a dozen other generals and princes.
He had interrupted a council of war.

Time was when such a galaxy of titles would
have abashed Gabriel, but the need was too
urgent now to allow such feeling. He drew
himself up and saluted, then addressed the Czar
directl : .

“I in the bearer, sire, of the reply of his
majesty, the Emperor of the French, to your
ml prpposals, and authorized to complete the

t .

The Czar looked pleased.

“We are very lad to see
Count of Friedlan . Ibelieve.”

“ The same sire.”

“I remem r. I have seen you only twice
before, but the occasions have both been re.
mnrkahle.”

Then, turning to the others, he went on:

“ Gentlemen, this is the Count of Friedland,

nvoy of our cousin, the Emperor Na leon.
go is one of the hardest char ers in urope,
and my Cossacks are actually a raid of him.”

0 “ And what does the Count bring?” asked the

» tones of old Blucher. f‘Your majesty
now: we are agreed that this man must go.
: He has troubled us too long.“

Gabriel’s eyes flashed and he could not help
retorting:

“The marshal has not forgotten old times, I
see. I. too, remember Ratkan.”

01‘! Blueber grew Pink. ' He had been obliged
to sumender is whole army to the cavalry
3f the Guard at Rattan. am the battle of

em. .

“ Perhaps you were these," he “id.

“I was, marshal; and we did not in our

tiations stigmatise the King of PM u
0 at man.’ 1)

Blucher said no more, and the Cr, with his
usual kindness, interposed:

“ Never mind. You have brought an mar
to our oflers, count?"

you. It is the

“His '

 

 

The Man in Red.
T _A__ -

“I have come to treat, sire.
desirous of making ace.” v

“ We cannot me e peace with him, save on
the terms of his abdication,” said the King of i
Prussia, firmly. "’ We are agreed on that, I .
believe, m brother.”

“ Entire y,” responded Alexander, gravely.

“ Then," said Gabriel, rather pale, but speak- :
ing very distinctly, “may I ask what your i
majesties offer my master?"

“ A safe retreat in the Island of Elba, with a I
civil list of two million francs a year, guaran-
teed by us, and the privilege of a battalion of
guards,” said the Czrr.

“ And is that your ultimatum?”

“ It is. If .he refuses, the armies march on
Fontainebleau at once.”

“Then,” said Gabriel, quietly, “I have the
honor, in his majest ’5, name to say that, in
order to save France row the further effusion
of blood. be abdicates his crown and accepts the 
terms Here is the instrument.”

And he handed to the Czar the lon envelope 3
in which lay the little document 0 six lines ‘
which changed the fate of Europe.

A deep silence fell on the little group of men
archs and marshals as the Czar opened the mis-
sive; and then Gabriel became aware that some
one behind the Russian emperor was looking
over his shoulder with an eager intentness that
was excessively rude.

The face of this person was thin and pale, and
a look of demoniac joy distorted it.

It was General Gru isch, as Gabriel had
heard him called; and t ere was no mistaking
the spirit in which he scanned the abdication.
It was with triumph, fierce. mali nant and un-

ri , a look that made Gabrie shudder with

when every one else in the room, even

to old Blucher, seemed to feel the solemnity of
the occasion.

But the Czar read the paper aloud without
noticing an hing, and the meeting broke u in
joyful con union, in the midst of whichA ex-
ander said, courteously, to Gabriel, taking him

aside:

“ All is well that ends well. I have a very
stron rsonal regard for his ma esty, and
shoul like to have saved him his t rone but
my allies were inflexible on that point. it is,
after all. a compliment to. his genius. We are
afraid of him. But we have seen to it that
those, like yourself, . who faithfully served
France under his orders, shall not suffer. I

His majesty is ;

shall take great pleasure in introducin you to
the King of France, m brother, an asking
him to rovide for your ture."

Gab el bowed gratefully.

“I shall be very thankful, sire: for, in truth,
I had but my y to live on, and the abdication

laces me on do of the service. ButImust
first back to the em

ror. Remember that
he is all alone now 

The Czar nodded ravely.

“You are falthfu I see. You would make
a good oficer-to any man you loved. I wish I
hadyouinmyservioemoun ”

“ should be proud to ijoin it, sire, for y
men are now the best sold ers in Europe. at
my duty lies in poor France.”

‘ I t your choice. But remember this,
count. f ever the l time comes that you are
forced to leave France for your fidelity to the
em ror, come to St. Petersburg to me, and I
wil see to it you don’t repent the visit. And to
remind you of the offer, take this and wear it
in memory of a gentleman who loves fidelity."

And the Czar took from his breast the dia-
mond .star of the order of St. Michael, and
pinned it on Gabriel’s breast.

Then the young man left the Tuileries, and,
for the last time, drove to Fontainebleau to see
the emperor. .

But the empire was ended.

 

CHAPTER XXXIII. ‘
TEE PASSAGES AGAIN.

A WEEK had passed, the emperor had gone.

To Gabriel, sitting alone in the deserted cha-
teau of Fontainebleau, brooding over what had
happened, the past ten years seemed like a
dream.

The brilliant panorama of the em ire, the
days when he had stood sentry at the avilion
of Diana at Versailles; the rapid whirl of poli-
tics and war amid which he had won his wife; 1
the thundercla of victory that had sucCess— !
Ively startled urope from Austerlitz to Wag- 
ram.

And now all had vanished. The tri-color was .
furled forever as it seemed, and the pale flag :
which Frenchmsn had learned to despise as the ,
symbol of corru tion, oligarchy and cowardice, l
floated over the uileries and was hanging from ‘
eVery wind0w in France, in honor of the entry -,
of Louis XVIII. on his duties. ’

And Gabriel was all alone that da .

The army had been disbanded, t e em ror
had departed for the scene of his exile, an the
Count of Friedland was not one. of the gentle-
men designated to accomdpany him.

And even his wife ha ne away from him

that momin , be hardly new where for she
had departed, leaving word for him by a ser-

 

vant that she had taken the little count for a
drive in the forest, and that Casse Tate would
ofliciate as coachman.

80 Gabriel was all alone in the gloomy old
chateau, that day, with no company but a few
maid servants, who chattcred in remote parts
of the building, while their masters and mis-
tresses had gone to Paris to pay their court to
the king, and try and secure a longer lease of
life in their free quarters at the palace.

He had dofl'ed his uniform now, for be con-
sidered himself no longer in the army. The
wars were over. and he was thinking. in the
gloomiest frame of mind possible to imagine,
over the future. It all seemed very dark.

He had become so used to military life that
he knew no other way of making a living, and
his commission as a general was now worthless.
The regiments were retained in the service, it
was true, for France needed an army, even in
time of peace; for the marshals and generals, in

‘ those early days, did not know What was to be-

come of them, and Gabriel was one of those too
proud to ask.

He was thinking to himself, as he sat in his
arm-chair, brooding, that he had a few thou-
sand francs savod from his pay, and that he
would have to live on it as best he could. If
they turned him out of the old lace, the
might do it. He would not ask to a retained?

And Casse Tete; what was to become of his
faithful 31d cgmtgade arid. orderly! Hit; could no

on or or pay rm wages. is horse,

too,g must be sold: old Cosaque, that he had
captured from the Russian colonel in the hog
before Austerlitz, and had ridden in every hato
tle since.

“ Poor Cosaque!" he said aloud, as he rose
from his chair to pace the floor, as if to
from his thoughts. “I’d better sell thee ton
Russian before they leave France, so that thou
ma‘ est die on thy native soil.”

e strolled sadly out toward the stable to
look at the faithful old charger, and Conque
turned his head and whinnied a welcome to his
master, as gayly as if he were yet athras yean’
colt, instead of a sober charger of twelve win~

ters.

Gabriel stroked the glossveck fondly.

“ Not to—day, Coeaque. e don’t march an
more, my horse. Eat the oats while they ;
for bitter is are coming for In."

Cosaqueddnotseem to mindthechangasof
politics as lon as his was full; but he
whinnied agan ashel outofthsflhls
door into the sunshine. It was the end of AF“.
and the birds were building their nests among
the cherry blossoms, and Cosaque ind been h
the stable for more than two weeks now. does
the mud campaign had closed. ,

He wanted to get out, but his made:- only
said soothiu y:

I am is

“Not to- ay, Cosaque, not to-day.
no mood for a ride. old horse.”

And then he left the stable and washed
gratin palac; in the sun-'2‘l wa

n over «Kismet- a aw -

in: in hfi throat would not down.

He wandered throng: the dark corridors fill
he came to aplaca w are familiar mommies

struck him. . .
,ltWas the whereThe HaninBadhd
ap to em

e remembered a wdrning:

‘fFive years more, and thou shalt “46'

enamel: in the ocean."

prisoner
“And that was in 1810 " hemuttarcd; “and

now it is only four years, and at he is vista-
all a risoner. How could he ve known a-
wel w twas coming? He told the a

he would see him in Moscow, and he did. How
could he know he would go there? Who is this
man that hates him so virulentlyi How cause
he to know the future and what relation does
be hold to me? .He said we were kinsman. And
he is, I think, the son of the Marquise do St.
Jean. No woman ever ventured so much for
any man, if he were not either her lover arbor
A

son.”

Egoodin over those thou hts, in which he
ha 1y tooi any further actigve interest. it 00-
cun-ed‘ to him in mere idle curiosity to try .
secrets of the hidden pas-sages of the laceand
trace out the way that The Man in find must
have come. , -

He tried the different doors, into room after
room, concealed by the panels and bepn to
take an interest in the facility thus ode!!! him
for examinin the older portions of this medie-
val retreat o the kings of Mace. .

At last, by accident as it were, he opened a
door that led, not into a room but a secret pas-
sagc, and thought to himself that he would ex-

plore it. _
Unlike the in which he had found
General Gru h, 80 called. this one had no

steps, but went on a level through the heart of
the palace, and very soon ended in a slofln
descent, quite dark, and leadin into thobow
of the earth, under the foundat one.

“ This was the way he came in,”

' the.
oung man. “WouldIhadonlyW

en, and found it out.”
Then he remembered wh he had not.
The emperor had forbid on it.

‘ "There is some strange mystery still.” he

-_......_..__. ._~...-__. _ .. -._.....__.__...___..... -.

may ,1] ,

 

i”:

I

The Meme, Red. 

 

thought to himself. “I must find out who is
this man, that hates him so.”

He went resolutely on down the dark passage,
feeling his way along the wall and walking
cautiously, for fear of a flight 0 steps, and as
he had expected, it led him on and on, in a

rn-lual sin 9; till it began to rise again, and

e saw a lig t glimmering ahead.

Hurrying on, he found himself out in a wild
racky glen of the forest, where the wild
orchids covered the ground, and a network of
vines and creepers hid the opening to the pas-
sa re, otherwise open and unguarded.

he spider‘s webs at the mouth of the cave
showed that no one had pass (1 that way re-
cently, and he was about to turn back, when
he heard the sound of a horse’s footsteps ap-
roucbing, and saw the very person of whom
1e. was just then thinking ride toward him.
lnstinctively he stepped behind a tree. He
wished to be sure whether General Gru isch,
or whoevar he might be, really entere the
palace in that way.

Tue strange general, still clad in the Russian
uniform, came forward into the glen, took a
rapid glance round it; then tied his horse to a
tree and deliberately entered the passage.

Without u. moment’s hesitation, Gabriel rose
up want to the horse as soon as he was sure the
master was out of hearing, untied it and rode
off, full gallop, to the palace. He had resolved
to catch the general at the other end of the
passage, and have an explanation or a fight.

It took him about two minutes to reach the
palace, and he hastily fastened the reins to a
pest. ran to his own apartments, armed hissiself,
and then went to the door of the secret passage
to await the visitor.

‘ He had not very long to wait.

Presently, hiding behind the angle of the
corridor, he saw the general come out and
straight to the emperor’s own~(late) private
cabinet.

He entered through one of the
wall, and Gabriel saw how he
Roustan, four years before.

Then the young man stole round to the front
door of the suit... suddenly entered it, and, by
advancin rapidly, surprised the str r in
the act 0 riding a large desk, full 0 state

pa rs.

Gabriel had a pis‘ol in his hand, and he
cocked it as he entered the room.

The click caught the ear of the other but he

no observation except to hold out his

band, with:

“ I am glad to see you, young man. I came
here to find you.”

“ More likel to find something else,” retorted
Gabriel, point a to the plasters.

‘ shoulders.

stranger
business. I have orders to

nels of the
deceived

“That is on]
took over these.

“ From whom?”

“From-the king of France.”

CHAPTER XXXIV.
m cm nus an own

(Jamar. could not help frowning at the name
of the 'Kiug of France. t grated on him after
Mallow to the empire.

“The g,” be repeated, disdainfully. “It
is fitting for the Bourbons to hunt through the
emperor’s papers after old scandals. The oflos
becomna ntleman of the old school, who is
willin to k the hand of a courtesan, if by so
dang can sin her influence with the hi ."

Theotherl uedto his tiradewith acoo y
“Wag smile.

“ on are foolish,” he answered, llightly, “ to
regrotthacoming of uses of St. uis tothe
throne his ancestors illustrated. fiour vulgar
Cordon has not treated on so ll that you
need cling tohim. I that I came to see
you. 80 I did. These were mere passin
amusements on the we . Why have you no
been to see the king! is majesty will receive
you, as he has done Nay, Maodonald, Boult and

he rest, with open arms."

Gabriel made no answer, but he could not re-

;main h: a hostile attitude before such langus e;
schezn hispistolandput it hackiu

The strange general noted the action.

“I thought you would hardly shoot a man,
who had spared your life once, now, when he
comes to do you a service.”

“ Who are you, than,” cried Gabriel impuni-
ously, “ who seem to hate the man I love, and
hug, such influence with the king! Who are

you
The stranger looked at him with the old mock-

ing smile.

V‘ I told you you should know when the lilies
wavod over You have heard in name
often, and yet I cannot say it aloud. ark in
your ear.”

Be wh red in the youn man’s car a name
that can him to start ha and look at the

stranger with amusement

“ he is dead ” cried Gabriel at last. “ He
is dead, buried. in. grave is in 15m in Chaise.
I have seen it there with a wreath of immor-
teilss round it.”

The stranger shrugged his shoulders.

“ Tombstones are great liars. I am not dead,

 

as you see, yet I cannot prove my life. That I
owe to him.

“ To whom?”

“ To little Bonaparte.”

“ The em ror if you lease,” said Gabriel,
stifliy, at w ich the other aughed angrily.

“The emperor, indeed! Bah, young man, I
used to cut! his ears for impertinence at Brienne,
and I have beaten him on the battle-field when-
ever they havn taken my advice. You would
not have had the chance we gave you had they
not been afraid to follow my advice. I would
have been in Paris in Christmas week. As it
was \I made them take Paris, instead of ii rht-
ing im. I knew the French would leave im
then. The emperor, indeed! Little Bonaparte,
no higher than my boot.

He seemed to take a malicious leasure in be-
littling the fallen emperor, an Gabriel was
nettled into saying:

“ It is well for you to slander him. He never
turned traitor to his country and entered Paris
at the heels of the enemies of France.”

The general looked vexed.

“If you wish to quarrel, I can go; but your
wife is not so obstinately proud.”

Gabriel’s eyes flashed fire.

“ Keep her name out of this question, please.
What do you mean i”

“ Oh, no harm, no harm. You misunderstand
me. I mean simply that madame has goneto
Paris with your child to ask the king to restore
to you your place at court or the army.”

‘ How do you know thisl“

“ I met her on the road hither, with that grim-
looking old cuirassier of yours on the box, and
be stared at me as if he had seen a ghost. I
fancy that man must know my face. He ma
have served under me. It is only the old to -
lows that know me. Eh, my young friend, you
forget that France has been through twenty
years of war now. Twent years ago!"

And he, too seemed to thinkin over old
memories, as he bent his tall, thin ure and
paced up and down, humming an 0] revolu-
tionar air that Gabriel had not board since he
was a ttle child. '
he resumed:

knew they were going to the
Tuileries; for all the world is go ng there and
{ion age the only malcoutent. So I told the
ag—

“ Does he know who you are!” quickly inter-
ru Gsbriel.‘

‘ e does; and so does the Czar, with three
other people, besides yourself. The rest only
know me as Grupisch, or Count Antony, or
General Cosaxe, or any one of a dozen diflerent
names. It is not m cue to be known by oung
men; and I only tel fyou, bemuse, as you ow,
we are related. My other and yours were first
cousins: yet it is a strange thing that I am not
at all like my father or mother. Ah. well, they
are gone lonia 0.”

And he sig slightly.

Gabriel hesitated.

“ And Madame St. Jean—is she any relative
of yours also?"

‘ A relative! no."

“ Why, I thought—”

“Th she takes a great interest in me. So
she does. She is m godmother, and as you
know, a strict Csth c takes a grave view of
that relation. ” ’

“ Indeed?”

“Yes. indeed. Besides she was always a
very loyal woman. She has befriended me from
the moment I lost in identitfi. And there is
Monsieur ds Bellevil e too. 0 was m‘y god-
father, and has done well by me. A , my
{sung friend, little Bonaparte did one good

ing when be restored the church. It is well
enough to call the priests old deoeivarr but
how are you going to have morality without
them! Here are two old people, who should be
nursing their gout in arm-chairs, working and
plottin like beavers to help me, who have no
other aim on them but that of having been
held in their arms before a vase of holy water.
There is somethin in the church after all.”

“ And {ecu thin that is the cal reason they
have for frlending you!" said brisl inquir-

ingly.

“ Assuredl , unless—”

“ Unlc- w t, general!”

“ Unless you can and a better reason."

“I? Wh no, of course, only—”

“Onl w at?‘

“ We I, it was but a trifle four years ago."

“ You mean when the police were after me in
Paris?"

“ Yes. How did you get at?"

“Phi-dim, it was a narrow esca . How in
the world did Fouche manage to go a suspicion
of that house!” '

Gabriel smiled.

“I an answer that uestion. The emneror
and myself, in di , looking ior ou,
stumbled on the house, and went in to ve
our fortunes told.”

“ Yes, yes, and Camille must needs talk.
These women are all the same. They never
know how to keep silent. And little Bonaparte
got angry of course, and went to Fouche. I
see. But she never told me who had, been there
at the time, and I was nearly caught. Fan-

 

chette warned me only just in time, and we
fled. I met two men at the back door, and
stabbed one, so I got ofl’: but Fanchette nearly
got taken, I understood.”

“ Yes: and my man, Casse Tete, saved her by
stunning the gendarme.”

The strange general burst into a short, bard
laugh as he. paced up and down the room, recall-
ing old memories. They seemed .o afford him
pleasure.

“Ah, they were good times, after all,” he
said presently. “ There was excitement, more
than there is on the battlefield. unless it be a

itched aflair. So it was Casse Tete saved her.
wondered what made the girl drop us all so
suddenly after that scrape.”

“Drop you? How?”

“ Well, I’ve never seen her since. The mar-
quise would not have dared to dischar e her
with so many secrets in her possession. ow I
know what has become of her.”

“ And what has, think you?”

“ Why she and that grim—looking old cuiras-
sier of yours have made a match of it some-
where, of course.”

“ Impossible, or I should have known it.”

“Young man, you will find out, when you
are as old as I, that a man knows nothing that
a woman chooses to hide from him. Have you
seen Fanchette since?”

“ No. I had forgotten it, but, now you speak
of it. I have not.”

“Ve well. Ask your Casse Tete when he
comes ck, and you will find out he knows
where she is.”

“I will. But’,’ general, one thing puzzles me
on. ,

“ Very ikely,” returned the other, dryly.
“ I do not intend to tell you evorything I
know.”

“ Tell me this on] . How did you enter the
em ror’s tenltlat hgiraml”

e nera a

« miles.» “8

“I can understand here and Moscow, where
there are secret passages; but in the open amp
there are none.”

“ But there are veterans from the army of
the Rhine, the Sambre, the Meuse, and sing]:
them not a few who knew me as their on
in old times, as ood as little Bonaparte. ’

He said the set words very spitefully, and
wanton with the same virulence:

“I know it is the fashion to call him the
prince of generals. and to declare that never a
man in the Republican armies could come near
him in genius. Nevertheless, even in our fa-
n-ous Old Guard, there were men who ad won
their places under other generals besides this
hraggart of Corsica. And they would not be-
tray ms, even if they knew me. It is enough
of talking. Letitpass. Icametosceyomnot
to explain mysteries. Do you wish to enter the
service of France?"

“ I do, if I can remain in it with honor."

“Very '12]. Visit the king “to-marrow, ask
an and e He will confirm your title and
give you back your old regiment. If be hell.
tates, tell him I told you to ask thefavor. Look
there, out of the window. Madame returns. I
must go at once. Firewall.” '

CHAPTER XXXV.
UNDER THE Bonnnoxs.

Hz: was about to leave the room, whenGa-
briel said, uietly:

“You in ight as well go by the front door.
Your horse in Men.” -

The neral s angrily.

“ in The rdenl How do you know i”

“ I took Tim there after an had entered the

from the ferest. here is no further

need of concealment now. Your istri.

umphant. Leave these secret pollen! and

backstair intrigues to us, who are out of
war.

“That is true, young man. The tables are
turned now. I should not be  to find

on in a foreign service fighting’sgamst France
n the same way for which you lamed us afow
years ago."

“ That you will never see, oral. I blame
no one now, but though I may entor a f
service, it will not be with an snow of France."

“Perhaps not. At the same me you will
oblige me by having my horse taken back
where I left him. I do not wish tobe
niaed, and your man has alread stared at me
in a way that convinces me he remembers
my face."

“ I will send him round then with the horse.
You can speak to him alone."

“ That will do as well. Farewell. I had no
idea you had found out so muc .”

Then he went through the panel door, and
Gabriel went out to meet his wife, who w-
just descending from the carriage with the
child. the latter in a high state of excitement.

“ 0h, pa,” he exclaimed, “ we’ve had such
fun oi. We’ve been to Paris to see the
king, and 8’s a big fat old man, ever so much
taller than our em ror, and he took me up and
asked me how I’d ike to be a soldier.”

Gabriel looked at his wife, who was red and
pale by turns, and seemed very nervous.

“Yes, men chef,” she faltered, “ I Went to

 

 

..4~.~.._._.—._~_.___...-. .__.

 

4

2 The  . ,

.i ., ~I

as

1

 

see his majesty by stealth. You are not angry,
now it is all over, are you? I did not want you
tobe looking so anxious and miserable, and I
knew you were too proud to go yourself. But
we women can ord to lower our pride for
our children, you know. You are not angry,
are on, man char?”

“‘0, Inc; I am not angry. It had to bedone
sooner or later. Were you granted an audience
by the king?"

“ Indeed, yes, man cher, and his majesty was
most kind. He had heard of you often, he said,
as one of the best soldiers in nee, and hoped
yet to see you at court. He took up the child
'too. You know he has no children, Gabriel. I
felt sorry for him. And then I thought of my
own child, and I felt bold enough to speak.”

“ And what did you say?”

“ I told him how on had won your way up
from a private soldier to be a eneral of France
ands noble of the field of bang and how on
had refused to enter the service of the ear
Alexander.”

" And what said the kin to that?”
“He seemed pleased!
had been Master of the Horse, but be inter-
rupted me there and said, ‘ It is impossible. The

place is' promised.’ ”

Gabriel smiled.

“I doubt it not. There are swarms of men
for every lace. What next?”

“i told im you did not wish to be at court
now, but would prefer to serve with your regi-
mentif they would trust you with no higher
place. And then he said quickly: ‘Yes, yes,
he can have the regiment if he will recruit it
up to full strength. I want to see good regi-
ments. Tell him he shall have that, certainly.
He can retain his rank of general, but only b
hrcvet. I want to haVe each of my general};
also a colonel. Give the full name to Prince
'Polignac. He will see to it. Good-morning.’
Then he dismissed me, and I went to the prince,
you ma be sure. He gave me this.”

Ands e handed him a. rchment, with the
anc ent arms of France t ereon, which con-
tained his commission as General of Cavalry,
and Colonel of the “Death’s Head Cuirassiers
of the King.”

It was the first return he had seen to the old
method which had prevailed before the Revolu-
tion, when the colonels were all generals, and
the lieutenant-colonels were left in command.

But, besides the commission, there was a let-

- ter lrom the Prince of Poli nac, the Minister of

War, directing “Gener Lenoir, Count of
Friedland, and Colonel of the Death’s Head
Cuirassiers of the King,” to proceed at once to
Grenoble, in the Province of Dauphiny, and
there to recruit up his regiment tothe maximum
of its numbers as soon as possible.

A private postscript assured him that his ma-
jesty desired to treat him “ as well as was con-
sistent with his known Bonapartist principles,”
and that his pay would continue as if he had
never been out of the service.

The news came so cheeringl to Gabriel that
for a few moments he felt incl ned to bless even
the Burbons he had been -accustomed to hate
nomad. -

Then he turned to Came Tate.

I “Old comrade, what say you? Will the old
Death’s Heads feel at homo under the white
flag? They are ordered to Grenoble, and we
are to recruit there.”

“At Grenoble!" echood Casse Tate. “Why,
my eral, it will ruin the ment. Where
shal we at ascons in Greno lei It is mon-

e s all be mined.”
Madame laughed and shook her finger at the

Veteran.
“ Traitor, are you grumblin already? You
swore to me that you would a in persuading

monsieur to accept the place."
“I lidifiiifiglmi mommimk but I did t
n, mu m , no
know we were to go to Grenoble. It will ruin
the merit. But, after all, what matters it
now! he emperor is gone, and the army is
Yes, my general, let us go. We are no
ion or an use to the country, we old ones. It

l be t y count’s trim next, and we
cannot live on not ing. But what is that horns
doing there? Who has had the impudence to
brin it here in front of your honor’s terrace?
It “Infamous l”

30 had noticed for the first time that the
h” standing at the t was not one of his
mum”! chargers, an was angry and touchy in
P a 0h to the fall in that master’s fortunes.

3“ unit away into the forest, Casse
T999, “id’Gabriel. calmly, “ and you will meet
on the road to Charlemagne’s Oak, a gentleman
'1” 0"“! "5- He has on the uniform of s

ussian general, and it i. the same you 8'
near Moscow under the flag of truce.’

Casse Tote fixed his eye. on his master with a
‘iEF‘gfiwmlor. III: ihe muttered:

88 n s sin ."

Then he Muted briskly. sum
“ Yes. my gineral, I will take thehcrse.”
And hotlendit to the gate of the garden,

I rotie awe .

Then G'N'H hidoonsoIlnl tohiswife:
the

me I accept
place. There is nothing also hit for us to do

told him that you-

 

now, alas. ‘ Let us come in. At least we shall
be able to educate Gabriel so that, when the
time comes, he may be able to serve France
better than his father was able to do.” '

“That can never be,” she retorted fondly.
“ If he does half as well, he will be a hero.”

80 they went into the old palace, where they
had passed so many happy days when France
was in the heyday of prosperity, and where
they had seen the sad drama of the fall of Na-
poleon enacted before their eyes. They looked
regretfully over the old rooms they were soon
about toleavo forever, and Inez said:

“ I tried to gain permission to keep our
lod ngs here, as under the emperor, but it was
use ess. The Prince told me that the orders
were strict. The palaces of the king were to be
given up entirely to the members of the old
noblesse. You see already they begin to make
distinctions between the old and the new, and
you will gain more honor as the Chevalier
Lenoir, of the old family of Alsace, than as
the Count of Friedland, created on the field of
bag?" ted h ldh to ” h

expec was on ave goawa , e
answered, “ but none the less I am sorry tileuve
the old place. I shall miss the forest and even
the old baron. By-the-by, where is he? I have
not seen him since the emperor’s abdication."

“ The baron was at court with the rest, and
I heard that he had obtained your old place of
Grand Louvetier in the Forest. If so, we shall
see him before we go awa .”

They passed the rest of the mornin talking
over plans for the future, and Chase ete came
in soon after, looking very quiet and taciturn,
unusually so' for him.

Generally, while as grim as a cast-iron man
in feature, his conversation was quite voluble.
He went to the kitchen and officiated as cook—-
for in their fallen fortunes their regular cook
had deserted them to go to Paris with the Mar-
quise de St. J can—and when the meal was ready,
he serVed it up as waiter. in a white apron.
Casse Tete was as much of a factotum to the
family as he had been to his colonel in campaign,
and on the same principle. that it would be
below the dignity of an officer of the Death’s
Head Cuirassiers to do anything for himself.

If Inez tried to lay a cloth on the table, Casse
Tete was always there to Whisk it away from
her with an: -

“Excuse me, Madame la Generals, but it- is
not usml in the army to permit that. It spoils
the hands.”

“But what were hands made tori”
would ask. laughingly.

Casse Tete kept on laying the table, and
talking all the time.

“ Hands, ma gvnerale, hands? Well, let me
see; oh, yes, hands. Well, hands were made
for various purposes. Mine, for instance, are
big and rough, made for work. Yours are
small and white, so as to look pretty on the
keys of a piano, or sewing worsted work. The
genernl’s were meant to v rite his dispatches in
a bold hand, and to hold the reins in a firm

wind so on till the cloth was laid.
But that afternoon Casse Tete said nothing,

Inez

and Gabriel knew why.

He had seen the mysterious stranger.

CHAPTER XXXVI.
GRENOBLE.

So the Lenoirs went to'Grenoble at last, and
lived in a musty old chateau 3y the rapid Isere,
under the shadow cf Mont enis, where they
saw no one but the stupid old sub-prefect of the
town, and the few officers that remained out of
the old regiment, but where they bid fair to
be happy in a quiet way.

Casse Tete had of course come with them,
but, besides Casse Tate, there was another per-
son who made her appearance in Grenoble one
evening with a Normandy cap and a great
many lashes and smiles, c inging Ve close to
the arm of the grim old cuirassier, an looking
excessively scared as she courtesied to the pale,
grave young colonel of the Death’s Heads.

Gabriel looked up from his writing and said
in wonder:

“ Why, Casse Tate, what does this meant In
the name of fortune, who is this?”

Casse Tote, usually so grim and self reliant,
looked as foolish as the oung person beside
him. He was dressed u n his best uniform,
and wore a white how 0 ribbon at his button-
bole, almost hiding his cross. He had his forage
cap in his hand, and was fumbling it nervous-
}y, as he said, in a voice like a very young

am :

" Please, my general, it is—it is—Madame
Forton, Fanchette Gasparin that was. We were
married yesterday.”

Then the colonel rose u and hugged his old
comrade with rare -will, after which he
kissed the blushing hide, and called to his own
wife to come and see who was there. ‘

Came Tote in blandly:

“Pardon, my colonel, but it a nun . to
call madame.’ In fact—in fact—it was by me,—
dame’s assistance that we were enabled to get
married; and my wife here is coming on ur-
pose to live with us, and take care of the l ttle
count. It is not fitting for Madame la Generals

 

to have to take care even of a little count. It
is her business to look beautiful and make all
the r ment' adore her.”

An after it was settled they had great com-
fort at Grenoble, for Fanchette turned out to
be a regular hardy Norman t girl, who
adored children and believ in obeying her
husband: so that monsieur and madame, after
her arrival, had no trouble with their little
household, and became the envy of the married
ofiicers of the regiment for the completenem of
their arrangements.

Casse
one; Fanchette cook, waitress and nurse at a
single time, and it was almost ludicrous to see
the anxiety with which these worth people in.
sisted on the absolute laziness of their master
and mistress.

“Madame la Generale will spell her pretty
hands,” Fanchette would cry, if she caught her
mistress at even the innocent task of wash
her own child’s face. “ Soap and water all the
time draws the hands in wrinkles. Look at
mine, madame. What's the use of having
pretty hands if one spoils them?”

“But we are poor now,” Ines would object.
“I must learn to do these things for fear you
should go away some day from me.”

“Ma ame need not fear tha‘. I can’t leave
my husband, and I believe he’d beat me if I
said a word about going away. esides, I knew
all that when I married Casse Tete.”

“ And how came you to marry Casse Tate!"
Gabriel asked, one day, as he watched the trim
Lilttle figure of Madame Forton clearing the h.-

Fanchette tossed her head with a laugh.

“ Oh, man Dim, be tossed me so.”

“But where did he get time to tease you! I
never even knew that he saw you more than
once.”

“ Eh, monsieur, but he used to be over in the
kitchen of Madame St. Jean all the time. after
that night when he knocked down the gendarmo
for me. Casse Tete is a very kind mar. mon-
sieur. One can‘t help loving him, when one
kn0ws him.”

“ Yua‘re right, Fanchette. Still I should
have thought that his age-J

Fancbette bridled up.

“ Age. mon enernl? My husband is not fift
yet, and his w ite head is all owing to the a;
of the marshes in Holland. where he went with

General Pichegru, when he was a young man,

Indeed he is not so old as he looks, monsieur.”

Fanchette had become quite earnest in de-
fense of her husband’s juvenility, and, to tease
her, Gabriel went on: '

“ To my certain knowledge Casse Tete was in
the army at the breaking out of the Revolution,
and it is now twenty-five years since then,
so that—”

“Yes, monsieur, that is just it; twenty-one
and twenty-five are forty six. We admit that,
monsieur—forty-six. Not a year more. And
i am twenty-eight, monsieur, quite old enough
forAhiimFindeed.” ]

n anchette ooked indignant] repared
to swear on any amount of Bibles t3 519 truth
of her asseveratiOns, though Gabriel felt sure
she could not be much over twenty, if she had
indeed reached that interesting age.

80 he did not attempt to contradict her: and
the Lenoir household continued its peaceful
course under the walls of Grenoble.

Theregiment, too, led a quiet life and slowl
grew in numbers, as man after man came

om the hospitals, or from the German and
Ruian prisons in which they had been
fined, after the battle of giants in 1813—14.

From two small uadrons the rose to four
and the four swell till the ran were full of
the veterans of fifty battles, but in all the
months of that dull summer no recruits came
in. The old Death’s Heads were there, battié.
scarred and as m as ever; but no conscripts
joined them, an the remount depot was ,

At first Gabriel did not understand this‘ but
as he had nothing to do to amuse himseli hut
readin the pars, he began to realize, a a
while, hat was not right in Frame
the Borgbonim

ng‘ accepted a dishonorable peace
at the hands of the men who ut him onhis
throne; but they were not res y yet tofdfiil
their part of the bargain.

France was to be circumscribed to the Emits

of 1790, but' the settlement of Germany was not

so easy. England and Prussia were squabbling
over Hanover, and the coral disarmament
lagged on the we . The finch fortresses were
occupied by fore gn troops, and they hesitated
to we them up.

. nd then even the craven Louis XVIII had
some spirit left, and stopped the eneral dis-
bandment of th: li'ronchiiazrmty.t th re was no
moneytos or mm s; u eoldso
were sent Wm the colors. “in”

And them came rumors of trouble all over
France, as the nobles of the old kingdom, who
had lost their estates in the Revolution, came
back to reclaim them, and found others in their
places fortified by twentydive years’ .

Every day there were accounts of riots in the
country, and mobs had been heard to shout
“ Vite l’Empereur.”

Tate was groom, valet and coachman in.

  ‘

 

And then the colonel of the Death‘s Head
Cuirassiers began to notice that the men had

ot into a habit of holding secret meetings in

e barer at night, and saw that there was
an air of m ster about sundry officers. '

One da e as ed Major Foulard:

“ Wha is going on in the regiment? Has it
come to this, that you are afraid to trust Colo-
nel Blancbec t”

He used his old nickname, which the black
riders had given him, at first in derision, on ac-
count of his fair complexion, he bein the only
blonde in the regiment, but which h ended in
becoming a pet name, of which they were

proud.

Major Foulard coughed and looked as if he
‘were embarrassed.

“ It is nothing, my general, I assure you. How
isMadame la Generals?”

“ very well, thank you; but, as I was saying,
what is the matter in the re imentl”

“It is nothing, my ener . at least it is noth-
ing of importance. t is one of those things
commanding omcers wink at and do not notice.
The men are a little excited over the rumors,
that is all.”

“What rumors?”

“The rumors in the papers. My general do
not ask. We know you to be our friend. e
are proud of you. But we are not happ under
the Bourbous. You are not either. e are
used to the eagle and the tricolor, and we do
not like this contemptible barnyard fowl the
wept "us to put on our horse furniture and he -
me 3.

He referred to the Gallic cook, the old and
time-honored emblem of France, which had re—
placed the eagle since the abdication.

“ And we don’t like the white flag," pursued
Foulard with a growl. “ When one is used to
the tricolor, it is the most beautiful fla in the
world. You know it, my general. on re—
member how we carried it at Jena and Fried-
land. Eh, men Dieu, what a change!”

And the gruff old major blew his nose in a vio-
lent way and went oil! grumbling.

Gabne asked no more questions; but he
watched the men closely, nevertheless, and one
night made a quiet descent on the barracks after
tag, when by rule all the lights should be out.

one room he saw a brig t glare, and heard
the vows of a man inside, seemingly delivering
a discourse. Going. to the door softly in the
darkness he suddenly threw it open and walk-
ed in. There were the veterans of the Death’s
Heads, sitting on their beds, as silent as statues,
smoking solemnly in the midst of a blue cloud,
while in the .center of the room old Casse Tote
was standing, preaching.

The si ht of the general produced a dead si-
lence, ter the men had sprung to their feet
and stood salutin .

Gabriel walk into the midst of the room
and found Casse Tete was holding a bunch of
withered violets in his hand.

“ What does this mean?” he asked quietly.
“I thought my men were above breskm t 9
rules of  What were you spea ing

e

o
The cuirassier, pale as death, held up the vio-
lets, and said in tremblin accents:
“I was only tellin t em, general, that he
will come back when ese w a n.”
$32“  use “pa... .
~ rugg 0 so mm were ve cry-
ing, most of them, and stood there withytheir
am faces set in a stern frown, while the tears
kled down their starred cheeks and glittered
in the lam light. -
“ What this meanl” the general asked
quietly. “ I am not angry, m c ildren. Tell
your colonel. Who is coming!x
Cease Tete burst out sobbi , hard as he was,
and one might hear the sol are, all over the
room, choking down their emotions at the sim-
traction.
“ hz my God, general,” groaned the old sol-
. ‘It is treason to say his name aloud in
streets; but for all that we know he will
3mm "They have brought the message from

“Bush!” cried Gabriel, terribly shaken in
to of himself. “ I must not hear it, my
dreu. I must not hear it.”
' ut Casse Teto held aloft the flowers.

c0313; ‘11 lh“"fi”’§ “A?” “hint”? it.“
. agan. esco u w tevoe 1”
And the cuirassiers answegred.
" es, yes, he is coming with the violets.”

CHAPTER XXXVII.
CORPORAL vronsz'r.

Wno was coming with the violets?

No one would mention his name, but they
has: on saying to each other, when old com-

! met the streets:

“ Comment ra, comrade f”

z: 'a no mat. mal. Mais—”
“0ng nous ten-om,  flew-assent lee

“Ah, go! It m’endm avec les violets."

“ Out, out, Caporal Violet m'mdra."

It was always the same dialogue:

“How goes it. comrade?”

"Badly, bad] . But—~”

“ But we sha see, when the violets bloom.”

 

I “ Ah, that’s so. He will come with the vio-
ets. ,

“ Yes yes, Corporal Violet will come.”

And they never seemed tired of that little
dialogue, which they all had by heart, and de-
lighted in repeating to each other whenever
they met under the nose of some member of the
old noblesae.

For Grenoble had its old seigneurs, who had
been living in England for a quarter of a cen-
tury, and could not talk a word of En lish.
They had come back to fair France 1' e a
swarm. of locusts, to draw their rents and
feudal services from the peasants, in the style
of 1789, if they could and first earned the name
of the men who “learn nothing and forget
nothing.”

They tattered about the streets with their
gold-headed canes, took snuff with each other
and abused the canaille, who “ positivel Mon-
sieur le Duc, do not seem to recognize t at the
blood of the Montmorency is different from the
turbid stream of Jacques Bonhomme. But we
have them at last, thanks to our valiant allies.”

And then the old fellows would tell each
other long stories of how. their suits were pro-
gressing, or the recover of their estates, and
and would never notice t e old cuirassiers, who
showed each other their dried violets, and held
their mystic dialogues so that the old nobles
could hear.

The old things of the empire seemed to have
passed away for good. The palaces had been
overhauled and every capital letter N to be
found, he been chiseled off the chair-backs
and the keystones of arches on public buildings.

The “ Bridge de Jena ” had been changed to
the Brid e of Saint Louis,” over the Seine; the
names 0 Austerlitz, Wagram, Marengo, Lodi,
Arcola, Castiglione, on the street corners and
the standards of regiments had been taken 01?,
and everything was royal and medieval. The
old regiment of “ Musketeers of the King ” had
been revived, and flocks of young bucks of
the emigrant noblesse crowded into them, to
draw high pay and strut about Paris as part of
the “ Maison du Roi,” or King‘s Household.

The street Arabs laughed at them and held
impirtinent conversations in their hearing, such
as t is:

“ Holai Picot. hast seen the Grays?”

“ What Grave?”

“ The Gra Musketeers, to be sure.”

“My fait , yes; and the Blacks, and the
Reds. and the Yellows and Greens.”

“ No, no; there are no Yellows and Greens.”

“Well, it is all one to me. Have you seen the
battles on their standards?”

“ No. Have you!”

‘-‘ y faith, no.”

“ And why not?”

“ Wy faith, they never had any. "

“ by, where were the when the army was
fighting the Austrians an Russians?”

“ Eh, mon Dieu, the were in London, teach-
ing the English misses ow to dance.”

‘Bahl what a regiment! A lot of dancing-
mastersl Tiens, Picot. Do you know why the
Maison du Roi is like a duchessl”

“No. Wh ?”

“Because t e only cpowder they’ll ever smell
goes on their hair an faces.”

And then the boys would laugh loudly and
run away.

The consoled themselves for the return of
the o d feudal tyranny by bitter s eches and
lampoons, which the 0d kin coul not notice.

And as matters were in aris, so were they
at Lyons Marseilles, Tours and all the large
towns. The emigrants. retu , were the
subjects of popular hatred, and t e sneer met
them everywhere that they had come back to

lunder the countr; under the protection of
russian bayouets.

So the summer wore on, and toe pa rs con-
tained accounts of the say in which t e “late
usurper, General Bonaparte,” was passing his
time at Elba.

The Moniteur took de in spellin his name
with the italian “u, and it was t e fashion
among the old noblesse to call him “Burma-
parts,” and pronounce it in the Italian mode.
to emphasize the fact that he was a Corsican
by birth, and not a native Frenchman.

But however they spelled his name, all the
papers had par raphs of sarcastic comment on

he way in whic “ the late usu r” was con-

tenting himself on his tiny kin om, reviewing
his little army of guards an patronizing art
and literature. '

“It is said," remarked the Momteur, “tint
General Bona is childisth fond of telling
stories of his armor exploits to foreign visitors
and that he is ven to_unreasonable bursts of

on, which ndicate the failure of his mind.

e sleeps ill at ni hts. and it is said that he cou-
stantl dreams of the specter of the martyred
King uis, reproachin him for the woes he
brought on France. ey say, too, that he is
fond of playing chess, and class it very badlg',
but becomes ru 0 and oflensive to any one w 0
beats him. His guards are desertiug daily, and

it is- evident that the time is coming when an ,

as lum will hawto be provided for him else-
w ere. in some place where his whims will not
cost the nation so much to gratify.”

 

Another paper informed the world that:

“The ex-usurper is rapidly breaking down
under the burden of a guilty conscience, but
continues to quarrel with his keepers. The
Co at Vienna i4 discussing the advisabili-
tv 0 utting in some place more secure than
Elba t is modern Ba jazet, .whose proper prison
would be an iron eagle, exposed to the jeers of
the mob whose sons ehas sacrificed in so many
useless slaughters.”

And the old soldiers of the army, every man
of whom had served under him, had to read
this sort of stuff about the emperor or nothing.

Therefore it was that they fell into a habit of
forming secret societies and sendin off emiso
saries on long expeditions to the Mediterranean
seaports, who used to come back with mysterio
pus messages about the “ best way to plant vio
ets. ’ -

Then men began to come into France, who
said they were deserters from the island of
Elba, and who talked in public of how General
Bonaparte was going to the dogs. His temper
was becoming unbearable, and they could not
stand it. He would grant no dischar es, and
every one who wished to leave Elba ha‘ to de-
sert. One comfort, the foreign shi swere al-
ways ready to help deserters from 

Asked how they liked Elba, they said it was
a miserable place, but had a delightfully soft
climate. The violets were more common than
daisies, and they were going to become violet
farmers, and import the roots for French plant-

in ; .
5They would all grow in the spring,” and

there was a man on the island, one Corporal

Violet, who had promised to run away in the

spring and come to France “ to show them how

to grow the violet wherever the lily would
flourish.”

And this piece of news seemed to create a
rest fervor among the old soldiers. They took
0 hunting violet roots and planting them round

the barracks; they paid .out their savings to
florists for hot-house violets to wear in their
button-holes, and every man who met another
similarly adorned wit the sweet little flower.
would ask:

“ Well, do they blossom yet?” I

“ Not in the open air; but wherever we keep

them warm.”

“ And where do you warm ours?”

“In my heart, comrade, t' Corporal Violet

comes.” .

And then they would shake hands and say to

each other:

“Au revoir, camarade. Il viendra am les

violets.”

[“ Good-by, comrade. He will come with the
violets.’

And uis XVIII. continued to eat and
drink in the Tuileries. ofl silver dishes, from
which the Im rial N had been carefully ef—
faced; while t e Congress of Vienna devised
the measures that were to restore the balance
of power in Eumge.

And so assed t e winter of 1814-15, till one
morning sbriel Lenoir saw, under the south
wall of the chateau in which be lodged, 7101;“
blooming in the open air.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.
Tar. vronurs. BLoou,

Tun violets were blooming at last. It was
the first of March, 1811?. Gabriel Ianoir defied
those he saw before him, and took them in to
the breakfast table. where he found Cello Teto
and his little wife arrangin a bunch 0‘ the
fresh flowers by each plate. The face of the old
cuirassier was lit up with smiles, and he cried
out:

“ 30°. 111% general, they have came at last.
We found t em in the on at sunrise.”

The general looked at them with a strange,
safd expression, and uttered B “"8” “8h, 38 be
a .

“its; passe Tete, even the violets may come
a 3

“ Late, m enerall But it is early. It is
only the dragofMarch.”

“Still, too late for France. They may not
bloom long. my comrade.”

Casse Tete turned red and muttered:

“ Not if every one blows cold on them.”

But he said no more then. tor Madame la
GeneraJe and the little count came in  break-
fast and the first thing the lady said to the
faithful old servitor was:

“ Oh, how delicious the perfume! Where did

you t those lovely violets, Casse Tetel”
“ n the open air, ma generals,” returned the
old man, roudly. “They have come at last,
and the llies are all hidden in the hothouses,
afraid of the mistral.”

The mistral is a cold wind that blows in the
south of France. at intervals, from the Atlas
mountains in Morocco, and shuts up the spring
flowers while it lasts, though it comes from the
south.

The 119111.?!“ seemed a? innocent one, but the
genera as! ,very grave :

“The mistral never blows for a long time,
Casse Tote, and we may see the 00:11

after the violets have withered into dust in tho
summer.”
Cease Tete made no reply, but he bummed 'a

'—_

H “N‘wx . a... .

 

 

 

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harof the Marseillaise as he retired from the
mom, and when he got outside he took oi! his
white cook’s waved it over his head, and
gave utterano! an energetic w r which
made him 19 in the face,’ as if he had
shouted, bu w iCh could not be heard inside
the breakfast-mom. .
And the words were the prohibited ones:

“VIVE L’ EMPEREUR ! ! 2”

cl“;- Casse Tete was very much excited at
men a mple matter as the blooming of a few
violets; but if so the excitement was shared by
ocher people, for all the old 'soldiers were out of
the barracks in the garden that morning pick-
ing violets, and when they turned out for guard
mount every man had a bunch of the little
flowers stuck in the front of his helmet.

That morning the general, contrary to his
usual custom, did not i the guard, so he
missed seeing the unusu spectacle of soldiers
crowued with flowers, but in the streets of
Grenoble every one was wearing them excep)
the old emigrants, and about noon the su -
prefect of the tawn, an old nobleman who had
taken the place for the salary, came over to

'Ipnoir’s chateau. out of breath and all in a

tremble, and said to him:

“Excuse me, general; but can I have a few
minutes’ frank talk with you?”

Gabriel looked at him keenly.

“You are agitated, monsieur. Certainly you
can speak frankly. There is no need of evasion
between us. Have any of my men been getting
into trouble in the town?"

“ Well, no, not exactly, general; but—it is
necessary to be cautious—do you ever try to
undelrsrt’aud the messages they send on the tele—
gra
T e semaphore telegraph, a system of signal-
insrfrom small towers, had 'ust been introduced
in rance, where it lasted t ll the car 1850.

"The telegra hl” echoed Gabrie . “ No. Do
you, monsieur

The sub-prefect nodded.

“ Yes. and do you know what they are signal-
ing to Paris this morning?"

Gabriel’s face altered slightly.

“No. Howshould 1?”

He could not help the hard, cold tone of his
voice; but the other did not notice it.

He brought his face close to Gabriel’s ear,
and whispered in tremblin accents:

“ The am has lands ." '

“ Of wh m are you speaking?" asked the
general, still more coldly, and the poor sub-
perfect threw u his ban s.

“ Of whom? on Dieu I of whom could it be
but the wretch, the butcher, Bonaparte! He
has landed at Cannes, and is coming this way.
What is to be done, general?”

“I can hardly say, monsieur till I get my
orders. Marshal Ney commands this district,
I believe.”

He felt a dull sense of impending evil in his
heart for which he could not account, when be
how how the old soldiers were delirious with

at the news shadowed forth by the bloom~

pg of the violets. ,

I repeat, monsieur, that I cannot act on the
news till it comes to me in ofilcial form,” he
went on. “ If the King of France orders me to
arrest General Bonaparte, I can, I trust, obey
the order.”

“ Then you will obey the king’s order?” cried
illoother astily.

“Certainly monsieur, if my men will obey
mine. I wil be frank with you. I fear that
than may be a muting.”

But we can que that.” interrupted the

rate. “I have alread sent word to the
Du e of Richelieu to hasten ere with the new
Red Musketeers—"

Gabriel smiled a little disdainfull .
“ Better send after the first messeyr'iger to tell
greasing;  attay :way. If the old Death’s
e a n a corp.
able to pthegsofn dbeyck.” I my not be
The prefect wruni'lhils hands. '
“ tamItodol' iaisaterribleposi-
“on a frightful responsibility."
it you at all, sir. n such a crisis one has only
to do one’s duty.” Ycurs is clear, like mine, to
r .
Thai“; 503,1; want to die,” cried the poo:-
I‘. to in Emma-fly to run away when
ve on
*0 flie°geiggkigs of the Old Guard coming oyvgr
agehggmwmthe south. Betvtverstmegrgaic? rim
no 9 - " n
the. mesh uni. "wig: to the Hotel de Ville,
and behave as nothing had happened. Don’t
let every one see you're m htened."
, The sub-prefect thanked grim nervously and
gigglme while gain-gel went down to the bar-
.gmmsmd out    *
°"" had the old Death" H d looked so
well .3 the e. l
M I, I. Ihdid fist morning, since the“?!

to on at J M 0"
W were not as ninth“, hit;- their
- in air of p do and indomitnb1°

fix” ’1‘ h I 0'0 bled faces that made
. r 0"“ had never. looked so well and as
for a“ Co‘”q"(‘. his own rltsrger, that ‘nncient

 

Orilofl trotter caracoled under his master like a
co t

The men moved like machines that da , in
the most complicated evolutions of the l,
and when they made a final charge down on
their general and halted in front of him, Major
Foulard’s horse was not ten feet off and the
whole line had pulled up from a full gallop
within twenty-five feet, without a break. The
charge was perfect.

Gabriel took oil.’ his helmet then, and bowed
to the regiment, calling out:

“Death’s Heads, attention! I have a word
to say to you.”

A dead silence fell on the line, only broken
by the rattle of bridle-bits, as the horses tossed
their manes.

“ Death’s Heads,” continued Gabriel, “ I
have received intelligence this mornin that
we may be ordered out at a moment’s no ice. I
want every man to keep himself in readiness.
It has been intimated to me that this regiment
may hesitate to obey in orders. In such a
case, I tell you all, I shou d not survive the dis-
grace of our disobedience. That is all.”

He rep aced his helmet, wheeled his horse and
rode away, saying to Major Foulard:

“ Dismiss them. ’

Then he went home to his chateau, and told
Inez what he had heard, addin :

“Ma belle, he has come, and know the

le will receive him with open arms, as t ey
Sid when he came back from Egypt.”

“And you?” she asked, anxiously. “What
will you do. Gabriel? Are there to be more
wars? Think how useless it is, with all Europe
against us.”

“Ma belle,” he replied, tenderl . “It is not
that which will determine me. - ut do you re-
member, Inez, where I first saw you?”

“ Yes, yes. At the Pavilion of Diana in the
park of Versailles. But what has that to do
with the em .ror?”

“Much. ut for him I should never have

ained you. He raised me from a rivate sol-
ier to be a general and a count. still hold
what he gave me. If he commanded me to sac-
rifice myself, I must do it now, as I did in the
ast.”
p “ You are right, man cher,” she said, sadly;
“ but su pose we fall after all! We shall have
to leaveg‘rance.”

“ Tell me, ma belle,” he returned, “ is France
so sweetto live in under the Bourbonsi When
their rule is riveted on us again, farewell to
French lory. It will be time for the men of
Austerl to fly to—”

“ Where?” she asked, seein him hesitate.

“ Anywhere, to be free. ven to Russia.”

And he was surprised to hear Inez answer:

“ Would we were there now. I stifle under
this cloud of cowardly courtiers after seeing the
men of the empire.”

Then thev went about their usual avocations
and everything was quiet in and around the dull
old town of Grenoble for several days. At last,
on the fourth of March, came a courier in hot
haste from the south, who dashed up to the
chateau and called out: _

“ General, general! the enem are comin 1”

Gabriel came out in full uni orm, and a the
same moment Came Tete, as if the signal had
been given him, rode out of the stable, likewise
uniformed, and leading Cosaque.

" What enemy?” asked Gabriel, coldl . -

“ The usurper! Yonder on the hi1 . Turn
out and cut him to pieces. I ,go to alarm the
Marshal of the District.”

And away galloped the courier just as a dis-
tant shout came to Gabriel’s ears.

 

CHAPTER XXXIX.
a? EMPEROR.

Guam and Casse Toto heard the shout.

It came from the direction of the barracks,
and there was no mistaking the familiar rise
and fall of the old and well-known cry:

“ Viva l’Em rcur!”

Gabriel loo ed steme at Case Tete, who was
nearly breaking out. ,

“Shut up your mouth, noisy one. I am the
commander now." '

Casse Tete saluted silently; but his eyes were
dancing at the si ht of his master’s full uniform,
and he grinned a 1 over his face as he brought
up Cosa ue. .

anrie mounted, dashed in his spurs and was
oi! like a shot to the barracks, where .e found

be men outside, shouting and hugging. each
“her, as if frantic.

The sight of the eneral produced asudden si-
101390. and Gabriel koned to a trumpeter.

8Otmd the assembly, and to horse! ’
clear notes run out and the men rushed
giggle Bgalgles under he instirict c311 fitpglie.
e o t ree ter t e a u u-
m m “‘1. minutes at

“T50 “he is formed eral.”
" Take your M “,1, w... the cold order, and
d" 'w

t!” w h 0rd.
“ th’s Head Cnirassien, attention! Draw
aabefll B foulil. tro march l” E
punt at e head of t e column
and tth lobed down the broad Grande' Rue 0
(iron.  rcross ‘hc Phce D'Armes, the people

 

running out and cheering them, and then out of
the old fourteenth-century gate and on to the
broad green glacis.

Already half the people of the town were out,
waving their hats and shouting, for there,
coming slowly over the top of t e hill on the
road from Cannes. they could see the renowned
black bearskins of the Old Guard, preceded by a.
troop of scarlet-clad lancers, and. following a
group of officers on horseback.

But what is that figure in front on which all
eyes are fixed?

Ah, which of the Death‘s Heads was there
that did not know that gray suriout, the little,
black, three-cornered hat, the simple dark green
uniform faced with white!

Gabriel saw it, and in a moment all his stern-
lg assumed calm vanished. He could not hel
t e chokin in his throat, the filling up of h
eyes; and e was forced to turn his back to hide
his emotion, as he shouted with simulated stern-
ness:

“Front into line, gallop, march! Halt!"

Then came a thundering and cluttering, as
the old Death’s Heads swung into line, right ops
posite the advancing column of infantry, and
thebtownspeople shrunk back, for they expected
a c arge.

They halted, and a dead silence fell on the
line, amid which one could distin ish the
shorts of the horses and the occasions rattle of
equipments as a charger shook himself. The
men sat like statues, staring straight at the soli-
tary horseman in the gray coat, who rode in
front of the little column of infantry.

Gabriel Lenoir, trembling slightly. reined up
in front of his men, and sat there watching the
advance.

The dark column moved steadily on till it ar—
rived within three hundred yards of the Death’s
Heads. Then it halted, as the man in the gra
coat held up his hand, and he came «1,
alone. _

Nearer and nearer he came, till he was within
twenty feet of Gabriel, when he threw open his
c<])a_t,land pushed back his hat to show his face
p am . .

“ ell, count,” he said to Gabriel, “and have
you nothing to say to me?”

“ Your majesty,” replied the young man,
very pale, “has only to command, for me to
obey, even todeath. ’

Napoleon smiled on him with that rare grace
he knew so well how to assume.

“ Monsieur le Comte de Friedland,” he said, ‘

“ I have only to request that you will ride with
me to the Tuileries, to accept the title of Mar-
shal of France and Duke of Grenoble.”

Gabriel shook his head sadly.

“ It needs not that, sire, to make me the felt -
ful servant of your majesty. I take the 11‘
with my eyes open.” ,

Tiiedemperor tossed his head slightly, as “if
nett e .

“This does not look like risk,”hesaid. “I
have not fired a shot, and the people are flock—
ing to meet and welcome me.”

“ sire, were it only France, all would be
vaell. gut even your majesty cannot fight all

urope. .

“ lnshort, coun "retortedtheemperor,bitin
his lip, “ you thin I shall ahdicate a secon
time. If so. I will give them another fight for
it, first. Are you on my side or not!”

“Your majesty has only to order me, and I
am ready to follow! a

“ But your regiment, count!”

“ Your majesty has only to speak to them to
be answered. ’
highs emperor rode past him and took at his

“'Death’s Head Cuirasiers,” he cried, " what
have you to say to me? Speak out.”
In a moment the order of that line of bane

statues was broken up as if a tempest had chat. »
undred throats

tered it, and from five h
the deep roar: _

:lihViue 1l’Empereur'!” Mod

en t e emperors face aadxhe
said to Gabriel, cordially:a “a up,_

“ We need no answer tier than that. I hope
my old carvers of Jena have not forgotten how
to in; u Prggsians.”begun d

n ten emen toahoutagain,
for the first time in their history, the ’3
Head Cuirassiers broke their ranks, omcers and
all, and dashed round the emperor.
aloft their swords and shouting ‘,' Vine PEm-
met” I” like men franti while the Old Guard
k up the cry, and bro e ranks. too, so
in a few minutes there was a confused mass of
horse and foot, running to and fro, wild with

1 enthusiasm, while the townspeople came crowd-

ing in among the soldiers, shakin hands, em-
bracing and rushing to kin the of the old
gray surtout so famous in France, and] even
he ran nerves of the emperor gave way. and
he could only falter, in tones by emo—

tion:

“My children, God him you! This kindred
com home again."

An then what a triumphs! march they had,
through the streets of Grenoble to the Hotel de
Ville, where the emperor lodged that night!

The Death’s Bands in front. x-rirrmer than
ever, ashamed of their women)th lapse from

shaking ‘

 

‘\

\
l.‘

 

M

. ‘had taken poet-homes to

'  MT Red.

 

:discipline: every stauadrou dressed to a nicety,
levery man with vio ets in his helmet.

Then the 5th regiment of the line, which had
been the first to break ranks and Welcome the
emperor at the Bridge of Pout Haut, though
ordered to fire by the r Rovaiist colonel.

Then the Lancers of the nerd and the famous
~old Grenadiers, with their tall bearskins, and
around all the people, shouting like so many
,maniacs.

Truly there was no doubtin the sentiment of
France on the return from lba. It was the
welcome of children to a father: and all the
country adored Napoleon.

The next day they advanced toward Lyons,
:and the garrison turned out to swell the army,
while the people raved with loyalty, in true
.French sty e.

They advanced from Lyons to the north:
every where the Royalists skurrying off like rab-
bits’ the vople running out to shout:

“ ‘Vice ’Empureur !”

Not a shot fired. and yet tons of powder
turned in salutes, while the rockets were going
up all over the country.

On the 10th of March the entered Lyons,
and on the next day moved orward.

Marshal Macdonald, true to his promise to the
'IBourbons, refused to join the army, and osted
"to Paris, where Louis XVIII., paralyz with
terror, was issuing orders to the marshals to
“ bring him the head of the Usurper.”

0n marched the little army, swelled from
day to day, at a leisurely pace, through a smil-
‘ln’g countr , green with early springi and on
the 17th of rch came the news that ey. Duke
of Elchingen, was coming to take the em ror
Wagner, in obedience to orders from lug

u

And at Auxerre they met him, but not to
yield to Ney.

The veteran marshal’s troo s were drawn up
in“!!! of battle when the b ack shakos of the
Old Guard came nodding down the hill toward
.them. and the sight was too much for Ney.

He faltered and hesitated, till he saw the
'well«remem'bered figure of his master, and then
he broke down and subbed out:

" My emperor! my emperoi'i”

Three days later the army was at the old
Forest of Fontainebleau; and the first man Ga-
briel Lenoir saw there was the Baron de Belle-
ville. waving his hat and shouting like a
maniac:

“ Vii-e l’Emgormr !”

Even the 0| legitimist was not proof against
the magic of Napoleon’s name.

That v’ery night the emperor, taking one of
his own carriages from the stable at Fontaine-
bleau, where it had lain unused for a year,

to Paris, with only the Death’s Heads to
escort him, and entered the ca ital, amid the
thunder of cannon and the hi ng of rockets,
once more the master of France.

For Kin Louis, like a true Bourbon, had pre-
ferred safe y in flight to geril with honor, and

alais the moment he
heard the em eror was at Fontainebleau.

That night he great Na leou leanin on the
arm of Count of Fr edlan , ascen ed the

3 and staircase of the Tuileries, the cheers of

people outside shaking the air, and threw

himself on a sofa in the throne room.

Key was near him, and a crowd of yonn
officers, but be looked around as if he
some one and sighed slightl :

“ Ab, count,” e said in a ow voice to Gabriel,
“ you are a happy man.”

‘I hope to , sire, in your majesty's ser-

0.”

“Yes, you are a happy! man. Your wife
loves you, and your chi with'us. Mine are
away in Austria. Ah, count, I was a fool to
separate from Jesephine. No one ever loved
me do she did. She would not be in Vienna
110'.

But Josephine was dead. Napoleon’s first fall
had killed er.

CHAPTER XL.
rm: Holman DAYS.

Ann once more Gabriel, Count of Friedland,
wore he blue-and-silver of Master of the Horse,
and lodged in the Tuileries.

' not for long.

_ was an uneasy sense of impending evil in
thank—the old faces of the Empire were not
there, and young men were to be seen about the
palace instead.

Of all the old marshals Ney and Sonlt alone

, 1 had come to the 5 do of their chief. Macdonald

and Marmont hed aloof. Oudinot, Davoust,

Lannes, Duroc, Murat, Bessieres, Berthier Au-,

—-not one of them was to be seen. me
find, others {one to join the Bonrbons or sulking
in retiremen The mph were for Napoleon,
the old chiefs were a d to join him.

Ab, those Hundred Days! how the fled awa
in the work of re-creating a nation, w ile, outsi e
the frontiau, all Europe was gathering to crush
anew the aspirations of a people and force on
unhs p France the hated rule of the Bourbon.

Ga 1 was t too busy to think much and
the em re had the same cold lmpasslvity
which mways marked him in time of great

. m

 

Yet it was noticed that he Wfifl gentler and
less abrupt than he had been in t e ays of his
Bfwer, when Euro tre bled before him.

isfortune had tang t him or lesson. Not a
drop of blood stained his restoration, and the
Eagle idolized him as when he came back from

pt.

ut it was not to be for long. April fled like
a shadow, and the country was settling into
ace, when the news came that the English
ad landed in Holland, and that Blucher’s Prus—
sians were in full march to join them. France
was to be invaded again, as in 1793, to force a

hated king on an unwilling pecfille. .

And then the old soldiers of arengo, Auster-
litz, Jena, Friedland and Wagram Were hurry-
iug to their standards, and once more France
became a camp.

It was one against six, and the issue could
not be doubted, for Napoleon had shown the
rest of Europe bow to ma battles, and had said
himself that:

“ God marches always with the big bat-
talions.”

But the old soldiers never cared for the odds.
H‘Ad they not the Great Napoleon for a leader,
whose name alone was worth an army?

The used to say to each other:

“ oil, the fun’s not over yet.”

“No: we’ve beaten all the rest Now it only

remains to finish the English, and then We can ,

have rest.” |

“Yes, yes, we can beat the English, and then
the rest will run away.”

The Death’s Head Cuirassiers remained in
barracks at Versailles. The em ror had made
them his Guard of Honor, an showed them
special favors.

The veterans hold themselves in the grim
fashion of the 01d grumblers of the army, and
pretended that they did not care for the honors,
but they were as proud as peacocks. ,

And yet, in those Hundred Da s there was a
strange lack of all that had ma e the 'I‘uileries
ga in the old' times.

here were no ladies there.

The Em ress Marie Louise was at Vienna
with her ather, the Kaiser of Austria, and
had refused to come back, or was prevented
from so doing.

The little King of Rome was with her, and
the Emperor of he French had the humiliation
of knowing that his second wife despised him as
a parvenu.

And poor Josephine had died the ear before,
only a few do s after the abdicat on at Fon-
tainebleau. apoleon’s misfortunes had killed
her, and there was no one left to love the soli-
taifi' Man of Destiny for himself alone.

ay came and with it the flowers. May
ripened into dune, and still the war-cloud had
not burst.

Then one day the emperor said to Gabriel in
a quiet way: .

“ Do you remember The Man in Red?”

“ I do, sire. Has he come inl”

The emperor bowed his hes gravely.

“ He was here last night.”

“In the Tuileries, sire?” .

“Yes, in the Tuiieries. Do you yet know
who .he is?”

Gabriel hesitated.

“ I know who he claims to be, sire.”

The emperor looked at him keenly.

“ You once told me you did not.”

“ I told the truth, sire.”

“ Since when have on known?”

“ Since your majes y went to Elba.”

“How did you know it?”

“ I met the man himself at Fontalnebleau, and
he told me.”

“Do you believe he is the man he claims to
be or not?”

“I hesitate, sire. I am inclined to think him
only a madman or an impostor.”

0 his spgrise the emperor shook his head
and answe :

“ He is neither. The man is what he claims
to be. I thou ht he was killed—” ,

“ Commit suicide, sire, you mean i”

"No, I mean killed. Listen, count. It may
not be for long that we shall have an opportu-
nity of confidence. I will tell you a story.
thought once he had slain himself. Afterwar
I found out a different state of things.”

They were in the rivate cabinet of the Tui-
leries, not so full 0 bus men as of yoreifm‘
the influence of past in ortunes was visible
during the Hundred Da s.

The emperor was si ting by his desk, and
Gabriel stood before him in respectful attitude,
to listen to the confidences of his fallen chief.
How diflerent. he could not help thinking,
from the old days, when his master confided n
no one. ~ ,

The iron Man of Destiny began at last to feel
the need of human sympathy.

“I would not perhaps tell you this story,”
began the emperor, “ but for the fact that you
are, as I have found out, a relative of this man
who hates me so violently. And yet I am not
to blame for his hatred. I never harmed him
willingl ”

“ I am'sure of thét sire.”
The emperor smiled on him gratefully.
“Iamgladyou think that. Iamused to bo-

 

 

ing thought a sort of monster, who delights in
blood. but I never had a hand in his fate.

“Listen.

“ 1 met him at Brienne. My first year at the
college was his last. I was but eleven when I
entered, and he was seventeen and the tyrant
of the school. He graduated when I was twelve
but he was eighteen. Several times in that last
year we quarreled. I was a passionate boy that
would not submit to injustice and he was used
to lord it over the rest. I think he hated me
from the moment he set eyes on me, and used
to try all sorts of tty persecutions on me in
the playground. ce is ordered me, in an
imperious ton to do somethingifor him, and
when I refuseed be struck me. e was nearly
six feet high then, and I a small puny boy;
get I can remember how I fought him. I had

at the weapons of nature and I hit his hand
deeplv, while be nearly cho ed me to death be-
fore let go, beiug at the time senseless.”

The emperor swe t his hand over his brow
as if clearln away aded memories. It seemed
strange to ear this mighty general speaking
of his squabbles as a toy at school.

At last he resumed:

“ Well, he graduated. and I. forgot all about
him for some years, till Iwas near my own
time for graduating. When I orted to my
new regiment I found himacolone of infantry,
and my battery was attached to the garrison
where he was. I remember that be scowled
when I reported to him as the commander, and
that he never said a civil word to me all the
time I was on duty there.

“Then came 1; e Revolution, and, as you
know, officers of talent who joined the J) ular
party earned quick promo ion. I bear 0 him
in Holland as a general who gained battles and
went up rapidly. I was only a captain at Tou-
Jon, and after that fell into disgrace, and was
out of the service for more than a year, till thu
Reign of Terror was over. During that time
he was high in favor; and yet, whenever we
met, he took pains to be rude to me. I had no
animosity against him. I had almost forgotten
our uarrels in Brianne.

“ t last, as all the world knows, I had my
chance at the Revolt of the Sections, and from
thenceforward my histor is that of France.
When I‘took command 0 the Army of Italy,
he was on the Rhine, but not in chief-command.
I heard afterward that both be and Bernadotte
Were jealous of me for taking that rmy, but I
can assure you. count, it was no p asant‘ post
to lead a handful of starved, half-naked men,
against three times their numbers of well-fed
Austrians. Well, I beat the Austrians; be and
Joubert were beaten by them. Joubert was
killed and he was recalled, while Moreau saved
the remnants of their army. After that I
heard no more of him till after I came back
from Egypt to be chosen first consul. Then I
learned, to m surprise, that he the ultra
Jacobin, the anatical Red Republican, had
gone over to the Chouans. W y? I cannot
tell; but to-day I honestly think onl because
he hated me, and I did not want to co e under
m orders.”

he em ror sat silent awhile, as if musing,
and atlas went on:

“ You remember the Inf al Machine Plot?
I am not certain to-dhy w
not but it is certain he will disguised in
an was ca tured, at the time Cadondal an
the Duke ’ En hien were arrested. "11
Moreen was into t t lot. I intended in In“
them tried opting. wished to save my old
schoolmate. w bed to make a friend of him.
I knew he had talent, and I could have utilized
it. Then one morning, like a thunderclap
came the news that he had been found dead
in prison, strangled. i sent for Fouche, and he
told me that i was a suicide. I believed it,
and it was not till rumors came from English
papers, that I suspected otherwise. You see,
count, even the first consul had not exact infor-
mation about the doings of some of his own
subordinates. That Fouche was a devil. Thank
heaven, he] is not here now. Well, I sent for
him, taxed him with the murder, and he had
the eil'rontery to tell me—what think you!" '

“ I cannot tell. 3113-"

“That he did it in my interest, because he
knew that the general was a dangloterons rival to
me, and that he could not send h him and
Moreau to Cayenne to ether.” _

” I wonder our mafiesty kept him in the ser-
vice after we interference.”

“ I should not have done so, but Fouche was
a useful man. I had no man like him for the

lice. Well, I thought no more of the matter
till the night before my coronation. Then, for
the first time, he came to me as The Man in
Red. I have an impression now that he and
Fouche must have been in secret league all the
time. Ah, one never knows whom to trust.
count. In the hight of my power I was nir-
rounded by spies. He came to me, and I had
no 11$. who it was. I thought him a madmfi
In fantastic dress. He continued to v a
me, each time on the da before someim, -
taut event, when he won] utter his high , 008
prophecies and escape before he could be seized.

have since found out that he was alwa sa
skillful conjuror, and had all sorts of illu ons

her he was in it or

 

 

I -I.<Wl#§' ‘ '

 

 

 

gnaw... . .

R

at his command. I believe more than half his
idea in thus haunting me was to pla on my
nerves, but if so, I disappointed him. e came
to me again last night, and this is the letter he
left on In table.”

The}: Man in Red.

"29'

 

CHAPTER XLI.
WATEBLOO.
Ir was not to last long, that funereal cam-

paign. . _
On the 14th June, 1815, the emperor arrived

; at Beaumont, and found 9. Lu dred and twenty

He too from his pocket :1 letter, which he 
showed Gabriel. It ran thus:
“ Thou art tried and found wanting: another slznil

possess thy kingdom, and the lion shall devour thee.
“Tun MA): 1:; Run."

“It is like all his prophecies, disastrous. He
means that the English will beat me in the
approaching campaign. They may, or may
not. Tell mi), count. did you (-Ver know him to
haVe rominence among the allied ' eneral !"

“ e was a member of the council held in this
room last year, sire, and he looked over the
gun‘s shoulder to read your majesty’s abdica-

ion.

“indeed? Then for all we knew, he may be
with “'ellington and Blucher when we meet
them.”

“ Very likely, sire. One thing I know, that
if I ever get a chance at him again, one of us
goes down forever.”

The emperor looked thoughtful.

“Yes, that is how the matter stands now.
One of us must fall. Apropos, count, the army
will move on Brussels in three weeks. Your
re iment is in good order?”

‘ Never better, sire.”

“ That is well. We must beat these British.
If I can only drive Wellington to his ships, I
may yet manage the rest of them. France will
always rally to a victory. I shall send you to-
morrow on a tour of inspection to the posts.
By the by, do you know such a woman as tho

ar uise de St. Jean? I forgot—of course you
do. he was Mistrem of the Robes to r
Josephine. Well, I found a little scandal :1 ut

hor am the of the kin .”
“ Indgg, siren?" 3.
He did not ask what it was. He had cause to

suspect it already. and the em ror’s remark
showed that be connected it w th The Man in

“ You, and what is stranger, too, is this, that
it would account for much that was stran
about this same envious man. It comes in t a
form of a recei t. Look here, and tell me
what you think 0 it.” ,

Gabriel looked at a faded paper handed him
by the emperor.

It contained the words:

“hid the notary Antoine Pichegru, and his wife

Mboth of lots, the m of fifteen thousand

to be expanded in the education of the boy

can to them by Madame la Marquise de St.
Joan, on the first February, 1768, as godmother.

LOUIS D‘ARTOIS."

brie! looked puzzled.

“ oudonotnndorctand it. Wel Iwill ex-

Bl’aiu. 30 you. know who won to Louis
sire.”

“! to you were a baby at the time of
thcfievo uticn. Well, he was the Duke of
Artois, brother to the king. They called him
monaieur, simply, in those days.

Well, do you not see?"

“Hardly sire.”

“Why, it is simple on . What mason
had Monsieur to pay fifteen t ouund livrec to
a notary of Metz and his wife, on account of a
marquice, who officiatea u godmother? It was
a common enough transaction in those days.
Do you know that the marquise and the inn
find together in the same carriage when we go
as far as Fontaineblcau. It in the old story of
Louis V. and Maintenon. The a of
France, when they get old, have always in
under the dominion of their mists-cues.”

“Tiger: your majesty thinks that this man

“ The son of Monsieur. who is now the Louis
XVIII. of the Le timista. It is just pouiblc
the general did no know it till the time of his
defection, and that the fact added new fuel to
his hatred of me for dethroning his father.
It would account for many things, ncluding bin
strange influence at so many courto. The
Children of the kings of France, legitimate or

homer”, have alwa s done well. You re.

member Dunois, the stard of Orleans, Mar-
shal Vendomo and others. YO, I am satisfied
‘3“ ll "5. find I do not wonder at his ani-
mosity ”

myrte leared thoughitm' f iii"
rv was c d t o e
HauinRedwasaettl . ’ i en y
But that he was the son of the exiled king of
mpwnu all" swinger, revelation, and he could
no so 0 won crash t:
£Hol§dwir 08.111 end?” 0 though
9 not ong to wait to determine.
My in June the em for left Paris to con-
duct his last campaign in person, and, canoe”-
trating his armiespecretly, moved straight on
leroi so as to interpose between the British
It Brussels and the Prussian! under Blueber,
be“? Charlemi and Liege.
campaign was opened.

Gabriel went -away ve
u .

’thonsand men eager to be led against the

enemy.
The English, in and around Brussels, had a
hundred thousand. and Blucher another hun-

; dred thousand, but their extreme corps were
‘ nearly sixty miles apart.

The emperor’s decision was mrde like light-

‘ ning, to strike, first at one, then the other, in the

 

hope of defeating both and ending the war in
the style of Jena.

On the 15111 the French struck the Prussians,
and beat them; on the 16th the .' pushed on still
fighting; on the thh Ney struck the English at
Quntre Bras, while the Prussians fled in con-
fusion from’Ligny; on the 18th, the emperor,
with eighty thousand men, faced Wellington at
VVnterloo, and staked empire on one last battle
of desperation.

And Gabriel Lenoir, as a special favor on
that day, returned to his own old regiment, re-
tained near the person of the emperor, as the
last cavalry reserve.

Fair and lovely was the face of nature on that
fateful 18th of June, 1815.

It was Sunday, and they could hear the
church bells in the neighboring villages ring to
prayers; for the Belgians are a religious people,

' even in war time.

It had rained hard all the night before, and
the country wore a vivid green, crossed by the
brown mud of the roads.

At eight o’clock both armies were in full
view of each other, and the emperor rode along
the line, in the familiar gray coat and little
black hat, mounted on his favorite white Arab.

The men roared to see him, and eagerly called
out to be led to the attack, but he only shook
his head and answered:

“Have patience, my children.”

The English could see him throu in their
glgsses, and the sturdy grenadiers to each
0t er:

“ That’s Boney, him on the white ’09:.”

The man on both sides ato' breakfast and cat
waiting for the battle to be u; but on] the
slow movements of columns g up one
could be seen.

It wanted half an hour to noon when the first
gun was fired.

Then the Funnel: opened all along thalino,
and three hundred pieces poured a tempest of
shot on the British troops, who lay down fiat to
escape the worst of it.

At noon the French assaulted and took the
Chateau of Hougoumcnt in the British center,
and were in turn driven out again.

At half-past one troops were seen some miles
oi! coming toward the field and a Prussian
humor was captured with a letter from Blueber
to Wellington, to any ho would be with him at

sunset.

Gabriel was near the emperor when he read
the note, and saw him close his lips with an ex-
premion of anxiet .

Then he said to oy:

“ Marshal, we’ve no time to loco. Crush their
center. If we can beat them before sunset, it
will be Wagram over again.” .

At Wagram, Prince John, of Austria, had
brought u a fresh army just at his father was
defeated, ut had not dared to use it.

Nay bowed to the em ror, and went OR. A
few minutes later the ranch assaulted the vil~
logo of IA Ha e Sainte. But at the same time
ten thousand nch troops had to be sent 01 to
the ri ht to head 08 the apgioachinfill’rumians.

At alt-past three La ye So to was in
French hands.

Ten minutes later the emperor said “Gabriel,
in his old, abrupt way:

“ The cav have done notbin . The En-
glish are not routed yet. t eir center.

he rent will In port you.” ‘

Gabriel look at the red linen cf the British,
still unbroken, and would have romonstrated;
but the emperor cut him short. .

“It is a choice. Will you charge to win a
battle, or cover a retreat! The enemy are
coming closer on the right.”

Gabriel drew his sword and saluted.

“Farewell, sire," be said. “Something tells
me we shall never meet again. If I fall, ro-
member my child.”

Then he rode down the slope of Mont St. Jean,
and, at four o’clock, twelve thousand cavalry.
wave on wavo, were charging the British

Iquarec. .

The old Death’s Heads outdid themselves that
day. For hours they charged and charged
again, followed by the others. They met the
terrible Scotch Grays that had swept the field
elsewhere, and the Grays went down. The
proud British Life Guards fell before them,
and they broke squares of Belgian infantry
like smo e.

The rest of the cuirassiers followed them and
raged up and down the British line for three
mortal hours. but all in vain. 'l‘ie British
squares could not be broken, and or. ceaseless

 

rolling volleys covered the ground with dead
men and horses.

At last Gabriel Lenoir, L‘oking round, saw
only one squadron left of his who proud regi~
ment. and before him lay a regiment of H'gh-
lenders, in square.

He looked round for the rest of the cavalry.
and lo, it had vanished irom the field, while a
bush had come over the whole line near him.
The red-coated Highlanders did not seem to
notice him. their eyes bent on the valley between
Mont St. Jean and their own hill.

Thus isolated, with less than a hundred men,
in the midst of the enemy, the young man’s
eyes followed theirs naturally, and he never'
afterward forgot the sight he saw in that
valley.

Coming down, in wave on wave of tall black
bearskins, in a column half a mile wide, tramped
the Old Guard, assaulting the center of the
English position.

The sun hung low in the west, and he realized
that it must be past seven. The cuirassieu had
raged over that field for more than them
hours.

Then he heard the Highland colonel call out
to his men, who began to wheel into line, and
he was sorely tempted to charge them, but-
refrained when he saw it would only a use-
less slaughter of brave men.

A hundred cuirassiers, be the ever so good.
cannot annihilate an army; an all round him
were British forces. He turned his horse and
trotted away to meet the Old Guard, while, as.
before, the British were so absorbed in the
imposing assault of the great column, that they
never noticed his handfu

The Death’s Heads trotted off, as steadily as if’
on parade, and just as they reached the head of‘
the column the British guns, at short ,
opened with grape on the Old Guard, mo g'
down rank on rank like wheat in a hail-storm.

Then the whole hillside seemed to blame with
fire, and with a great cheer, the red lines of the
British infantry came down at a charge, w
a terrible cry arose in the dark column. .

Gabriel looked out through the smoke, and
saw the Prussian unifo‘rma comin in swarms
over the hills. while the whole ch army
seemed to be iving way. He saw Wiley

tryingto y his men; saw the vetoranaof a.
hundred battles otandi up to their work ,
heroes one minute, the ucxtfalling
confude .

Then 1:: board a voice clone to his car, Mt—
ing‘ wildly:

you pour Honeicul mam-demon."

O’at temp: do mourt‘r.
[My God, myGod, the guard yieldsl It 3
“I? “link old 0... '1‘ put. 
urn n . - 0 saw eta,
wild 100 ng, while thalittlo remnant (11%
cuirassiers were turning their bones to Ice. ,
That tightroused him, and he abrinhd:
“Deaths Heads! Death’s Beads! Tomi to

Even in that fiood “disdain-Mm”:
voiceandobe edhim.

me 2”

He saw a c at that moment, i f
it would entail a of his would -
trluti: the Guard from the ruin?“ h
over . v '
“Follow me!” he cri and awn wont tho
last handful of theterflbld’oDcath’ ELdOuim-

a
siers in a frantic charge, ht into the teeth of
the British Foot Guard-raining down eta
run to meet them.

There was a short wild rush, at full gallop; a
crashing among the bayonets; the thunder of
cagnon all Ecgudflthe flileld; the; thud of bullets
an grapesor souta o furyond
groans of dying men; and then, actuating;
struck Gabriel full in the breast;
reared up and fill on him, stone dead; and
last thing the young man mw, his
swimming ciao, was a Britiah'lguardman ling
to the cart while Came ete’a sword til
caught in the Englishman’s body and tho cul-
aassder’a horse was going over on its head, shot

a 0

And not a mounted cuiramier was left (I “0
field. The Death’s Heads were gunning“.

Then Gabriel fell back, fainting and m .

for breath. A musket bullet at six fiendi—

tancc had gone clear through his body, euro-n

wd'zlll, and he knew no more of the m at
a roo.

 

CHAPTER XLlI.
mm run um I
WHEN Gabriel Lenoir came to himself
it was night, and he lay on his back, looking at
the stars, surrounded b dead men.

A horrible in run rough his breast on the
night side an be felt as if a very mountain of
wad weighed there, so that he could not draw

reat .

For a little, so great was the stillness be for-
ot where he was, and then it all came back to

'31.

War the butt lost! Yes it must have been.
and if so, be in wit was min to the come of
the emperor. "he guard, beaten, could never
be replaced. there was no longer a

army.
Then the physical pain and that of his

\

   
 

I
I

TV.-. .4.. a... .-

l

    
 
 

V  was

a - .?._l..< .

...

g. The Man m'Redl '

47—4

 

 

 

wouan overcame everything else, and he
groaned aloud:

“ Water, water.”

Then he tried to rise, but a great weakness
'was on him. He could not even lift his firm.
He lay on his back as if nailed to the ground.

It seemed to him he must die there, and in
that terrible loneliness amid the dead, the in-
Conceivahlc pettineSs of human n mbltion seemed
to come to him with overwhelming force, and
me groaned:

“Fool, f0ol to come hire; rnd Incz, and lit
tle Gabriel al alone in t1 e w rid.”

Then he raised his Voice egaiu in a hoarse
Whisper, calling for water, and this time the
cry was heard.

here was a rattle of armor near him, and
some one sat u , with a dismal groan of pain:

“Ab, fete Dleu I how it hurts, that 195;!”

It was 'the well known voice of his old com—
:rade. Casse Tete, and Gabriel called:

“ Casse Tete. help me, if you can.”

“Eh, man Dieu, my eneral, I will try but
'the cursed British have roken my leg. Where
are you? Thanks be to God, 1 thought you
‘were dead my general.”

“Here am. Have on any water?”

“ Water, my genera i Trte Dieu, I wish I
‘had; but I can find some in these dead British-
ers’ canteens. Eh. but they needn’t grudge it
to us after to-day.”

“ What’s happened?” gasped Gabriel.

“We’re beaten, general, beaten, destroyed;
the Old Death’s Heads gone, and I’m lad of it.

didn’t live to see our disgrace. t’s no use
flgh an more now, my general. The Prus-
sians and ugllsh joined together, and the
were two to one. The emperor has tied wit l
the rest. All is over.”

And all this conversation was interspersed
with s and curses, as Casse Tote dragged
himse f along with a broken leg, till he found
an Highlandor’s canteen and brought it to his

en’ he uniaced Gabriel’s culrass, took it off,

‘ raised the oung general so that his head rested

on‘ '1de y, and observed Quietly:

“flow, general, let us wai for he thievss.
It's for them.”

“ thiav Came Tetei".

, “Th cam fo lowers. They all come out
no! is deserted, to the dead, and
'if d awounded man th many rings
they are very apt to finish him.”
‘ Let them finish us, Casse Toto. It’s hardly
worth while to live much longer.”
“On the contrary, my general, I intend to
live, if I have to use a wooden leg, and your
tour has a wite‘and child. I have been in this

before. I lg three days on the field after
m wi the snovéol: Itho' ugd, and
was . o are some

one «shag now 1%.”

The has: light of a lantern could be seen
nos moving over the field; and

three or four dark figures round it, creeping
Casse ote deliberately reached into the hol-
fillo! all the dtad horses round, and fished
estate pisioh, winoing with pain as he moved,

hohansd'ad apair’of pistols will. gon-

know you're weak, my general, but one
y ya pull a trigger, and those fellows
don’t understand politeness.”

 the midnight prowlars came near,
and one them said to another:

“We’re coming to the place where the Guard
was beaten. Look out for watches. Those
high oncers are fond of jewelry.”

. sue Tote remained motionless till they were
within alfew feet, when he cocked both pistols,
and said grimy:

“Haiti

The plunderers started and seemed half-in-
dined to turn and run, when he went on:

“ I don’t want to interfere with your little
amusements; but keep to dead men. Here is

era], the Count of Friediand, Wounded

‘ If you will go get us a cart, and take
him and me to a house, you shall have a hand-
Ia'ne reward,” ‘

“ How much?” asked one of the men, coolly.

Casse Tate looked at his master.

“A thousand francs,” whi red Gabriel.

“ My musier will pa a t ousand francs to
the man who takes him to the house where
there isn doctor,” said Casse Tete, and a. short
consultation between the men ended in one say-

You can have our cart, but the only hos-

. pital belongs to the English. They are cutting
a legs an arms at a great rate.’

’30“ they treating French? asked Casse

“English, French, Prussians, it makes no
difl'eronoeto them, so long as a man’s hit bad
enough. They won’t touch men that can walk.
Sag thely‘ve not time.”

We , we’ll go ” said another man. and then
went at, , true to their promises came

in with a cart, into which the lifted Gabriel
and Casse Tote and carried t em OR to the
ruined villa e of La Haye Salute, where they
bond the English doctors, assisted by more

 

_, __. I

 

than one French surgeon. hard at work by can-
dle-light, and nearly Worn out with tho inces-
sant labors of dressing Wounds and amputating
shattered limbs, after such a tremendous battle.

One of them grouned as the cart stopped, and
ejaculated, as if in despair:

“ Good heavens! More?
unless they’re urgent.”

He s )oke English, so that nvitlwr Gabriel nor
Casse l‘ete understood him: but presently he re-
lenied and obserVPd:

“ Well, I’ll look at ’em anyway.”

He came out and peered at them by the light
of a lantern, and Casse Teto said:

“Well, rosbg’, you’ve got the best of us now,
haven’t you? ake a look at the general, and
give him some brandy, or he will not live till
morning. ” ,.

The English surgeon understood him.

“A general here? Who is it!”

“General the Count of Friedland, titular
Colonel 01' the Death’s Head Cuirassiers,” re-
turned Casse Tote, proudly.

Then the surgeon became more attentive, ex—
amined Gabriel, who had again become uncon-
scious, with great care, and finally shook his
head saving: '

“15y Jove, it looks ticklile Lucky the ball
went through him, and didn’t lodge. Here,
Harris, bring some brandy. ”

Then with that gentleness which always dis-
tinguishes the true surgeon when he comes
across a desperate case, oddly contrasted with
his habitual rutality to the slightly wounded,
he ordered the insensible man to be taken to the
only empty bed and fed with brandy and milk
over five minutes.

“ t’s no use doing anything else, Harris,” he
said. “He’s so far gone that all he wants 13
rest and helping nature.”

Then he turned to Casse Tote gmfiiy.

“ Well what’s the matter with you?"

Can’t attend to ’em

Casse ete stared, for the 11 tion was in
English, but he understood the it of it. So
he‘pointed to his leg.

Jambs cam,” he said, as grufiiy as the
other.

The doctor looked at it, felt it, moved it.

Casse Tote growled out a curse.

“ Teta dc ooohon. let it alone, beast l”

The doctor blew his nose and mustard up his
French so far as to say:

“ Gotta jambo—aHoupo—«hf—sous com-
gummy—conga”

And Casse to rave another curse and said
aloud in his voluble French:

“ Those English are all swine. He wants to
cut on my 193. Ah, Casse Toto, th riding days
are over an it is ust as well. or thee, -
ha Eh, doctor,i Would be, for heavens
0 give mo a light for my pips whils you’re
cutting." ' '

 

CHAPTER XLIII.
ooscnusxon.

Six years after the battle of Waterloo, a gen-
tleman and his wife, sittin in a handsome
saloon in a house facing the ewsky Prospekt
in St. Petersbm-g, were admonished, b the
entrance of a servant with letters, thati was
ten o’clock in the morning, the time for post de-
liver , and the ntleman observed:

“ nez, ma bel , shall! order the sleigh when
you have read your letters?”

“Thanks, man char. but I have romised to
take Gabriel on a walk to the ice-h and the
sleigh cannot stand there so long. are are
one, two, three, letters for you, man char ; and
—yes—actually a Moniteur. Who can have
sent it?”

Her husband took the pa r curiously.

He had not seen a Mont our for years, since
he cut loose from France forever and onto
the Russian an"

The ohm—- p... w. the paper was written lured
ink. but as did not know the handwrltmg,
though it read:

“ A Meadow,
“ Mormiew la (hmte tie Friedland,

“ Colonel lies .Drapogg  bury
6 . n ’
" Russ/e.“

Then he opened it. He found, surrounded
with red lines, a column with bold headln and
on the margin was written, in red ink stl , the
one word:

H   I ‘!
[H  ‘astlnl
Gabriel Lenoir, Colonel of the Black Dragoons

in the imperial service of Russia, stared a the
headings, and then let the paper fall with a. low

or :
x En n—[at last.”]
“ at is it?" asked his wife anxious] .
Gabriel raised his face to hers, with t . tears
running down his cheeks, and said very simply:

“The em ror is dead in his prison. Ines, I
thank God e can no longer be tortured b thou;
nern

igmies that gloried in calling him
onaparte.”

His wife 'ilCKed up the paper and wept un-
ratrainedl,"g.-ver the news, which told them
t t: ,- ' ' ' ”' "“-

 

“The usurper Honcparte departed this life at St.
Helena on the fifth day uf May in the present year,
1821, of cancer of the stomach, after much lingering
suffering. He was delirious at the close, and his
last audible words were: ‘ Tale Maurice—head of

the army.‘ Thus Europe gains peace and the great
disturher is gone forever.
“ (Official) TALLsmNn.
H Mliltid/el'.”

“ Talleyrnnd. minister,” echoed Inez in a bit-
ter tone. “It is fitting for him who was the
emperor’s tool ill prosperity to call him usurpcr
and disturher now. Ah, Gabriel, it all seen's
like a dream, does it not, mon Cher? Those days
of glory, so rapid, so exciting; then the fall, so
swift and sudden. And then the return from
Elba, the four days’ campaign and then—all, all
over and France a slave again. with her best
men exiled and executed. Ah, how can I ever
forgive those Bourbonst"

“Their turn will come, Inez. Thank God,
the world does not stand still and the Iliil'lOIlS
are countin the cost of their wars now. Lcck
here, ma be lr. what the Moniteur says.”

He read aloud:

“ The stringency of the money market in England
and at Amsterdam and Frankfort increases daily.
The bank of England has been compelled to sus-
pend specie payments; money commands ten I‘Ci‘
cent, and the Jews are the only happy people in
Europe. The house of Rothschild has orders for
loans for Austria Spain. Russia, Prussia and
the Sardinians, an cannot get more than 68 or bi

er cent. of the face of the bonds. Our own finances,
hanks to the atriotism of our pie, have recov<
ered from the oases of war and rance is tranquil."

Then after a hasty lance over the rest of the
paper he handed it to er.
‘ I see nothing else worthy notice. -I wonder
who sent it to me?”
“Perhaps a letter may tell you. But I have
a sus icion.”
“ have i. It is The Man in Red. Ah,
what a deathless hatred.”
He opened his letters. The first was from the
old Baron de Belleville, who said:
“Mr Dun Pusan:
“You will see from the Honmur the sadnsws.
Ah, how we long to plat on the mourning that is
prohibited. All over ance there are hearts throb ‘
ing with sorrow for that-man who made us the
head of Euro , and whom we deserted in the hour
ofugishtrlal. fl'ut itlis all  at lasttfi Ah, howhhs
m avosu e y- e- ano erporson as
just ne—the  M uise’d'e St. Jean. one
time was nearly mag-{.33 her,but I was I
did not when I found on erwsrd what I . e
died in the Tuileries, my friend and hes-ism attend-
ant was that mysterious man about whom you were
so puzzled once. I suppose IX1011 know now who he
was. He has had a strange a, dead and yet alive,
unwilling to admit his identit , and yet proud obit
lim°" “‘"a' “(it 2.3% t minim w“ tom-iii
0 am ror‘s on w a on
'tWe 11:03:13! the forestt of FontainB sigh y: b bung;
rance a score ssa - e- . 0
has ordered them topabe ah?! in hext yeyar. There
is no more in story about them now, and they have
served as a urking lace fort W Ivmet
himthem,andhesaidtome.withasnesr: ‘ to
are your violets now, baroni’ I answered sadly, for
I confess I felt wretched: ‘ General I trust the are
blooming in heaven.’ He scowled at me In re-
torted: I dragged him down at last didn‘t Ii Lit-
tle Bonaparte, no higher than m ti Baron, I
am going to St. Helena now.‘ ' W t forl' I asked.
I shall never forgot the slim: of his eyes and the
devilish smile that curled H as he , 3
‘To dance on his ve, curse mi' Then I,”
what I had before—that the man's trou~
bles had turn his brain. He is no lawns-pon-
siblebei . I amsorryfor him after alth 80
than for pooremperor. The one had agrm
fall. but he leaves a fraud name In history. Men
will talk of him in uturawith Alexander, Cesar
and Hanni The other succeeded in his aims,
but at what a price. Eternal infamy as a traitor to
his count who aided a foreign foe to bring back
a detestab e t runny. You see my friend. I am no
longer a legit mist, or I should not talk thus. Fare-
we . Give my best to your amiable wife
andto the young count. who must be now twelve
.l'eal‘s old, by-tho-by, and believe me
' “ Your all-devoted
“Hm: nn Bums."
There was another letter, dated three weeks
after the first, which had evidently been with—
held from the t for some cause.
It contain only these words, in the hand-
writing of the baror:

“seahowGodpunlsheshatred. "ED B
I a: ."

These words were written on the margin of a
newspaper cli pin taken from an English
paper, which abrfial had lately learned to do.
cipher with some difficulty. ‘

t was headed.

“ AWFUL smrwaECK AND Lessor‘mn.”

It went on to describe a great temmst which
hadlatel ra ed in the Bay of Big... and on
the Eu h 0 111161 in which two sh ps of the
line in he Channel Fleet had foundered at sea.
while over two hundred vessels of all sizes and
nationalities had suffered shipwreck on the
coasts of Cornwall and France. It went OI;

“ Among other strange incidents to
the storm gave rise, was the revelation Of a
mysterv to which a good deal of attsntion was
at one time directed during the heyday of the
late French usurper’s power. Rumors reached
us, even in time of war, that a real host story
hadbeen goingoninFranoo, ther t ot the

 

 

1..-. “an

i .

. . mi.“ ..

Y  t' The Man' in Red.

31

 

 

 

ghost being no less a person than the late em-
peror of the French, and his Old Guard.

“The Ghost of the Old Guard was known as
‘L’ Homme Rouge,’ or The Man in Red, and
was said to be a familiar spirit, n he advised the
emperor of important news and showed him
how to win his great battles. The Man in Red
never came except in the middle of the Old
Guard or in some palace of France, and his

resence was ascribed to supernatural influence
favor of Bonaparte. Our modern ideas have

of course exploded such notions, and our 0 inion
has always been, either that the Old Gua smen
were given to delirium tremens, or that The
. Man in Red was some clever impostor with
confederates in pewer round the emperor’s

rson.

De“ The wrecking of H. M. S. Vanguard, packet
dispatch vessel bound {or St. Helena, has by a
strange chance revealed the mystery.

“ One of her passengers was a tal entleman,
a Russian—sup sod—called Genera Grupisch.
This rson h a passport from the Emperor of
Russm, and was given a passage as a special
favor. He was amop the dead washed ashoie
after the wreck of the anguard, and the papers
found on his body set at rest the disputed

oint.

p “ The Man in Red was none other than General
Pichegru, who was said by some to have been
murdered in prison b the emperor's orders dur-
'ing the Consulate. nstead of that, it appears
that he was secretly set free by Fouche, With the
condition that he was never to reveal his true
name, but was to allow the report of his suicide
to spread. The wily Duke of Otranto’s object
seems to have been to gain a spy on his own
master, and it must have been by his connivance
that The Man in Red made his periodical visits.
Instead of a familiar spirit, he was, to the em-
wror, an angel of ve ce-prophesying evu.

bother Fouche paid im or not s now uncer-
tain. All that we can say of him inthat he
played his part well. Whether it became him
as a Frenchman is a question he had to settle
with his own conscience.”

Gabriel looked up as he finished his letter, to
see Casse Tete at the door, wooden leg and all,
saluting: ‘

“ general.” said the veteran, ‘ I beg par-
figfi. But I there was news from France,

I the t—

“ You :15) right, old comrade, there is. Case

Tea, thedem rorisfipagg’m h d
0 ol rasaier w s ea .
“ Thank God. He is out of their reach at

_ last. Ah, what a maul”

i

:mwmm one aisle '1’! dead, too.”
at
“Pichégmzfig Man in Bed.”
Cases ete nodded slowly. °

“I thought he‘ would go after the emperor
died. He was once my general, and I oved
him; but he was not a man at the last.‘ He was
only a spirit at hatred." ~ .

m m.

 

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1 A Hard Crowd. By P. S. Warne.

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oath Trailer. By Buffalo Bill.
.1- Sam. By Col. Delle Sam.
Hand. By P. a Warns.
p Hunters. Mayne Reid.
pa. By Aiken.
Hunter. P. B. St. John.
Knife. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.
From Texas. By Aiken.
.33. By Frank Dumont.
tail! Seawall: By Ned Buntline.
Heart. By Gustave Almard.
Whale. By Aiken.
- t. the Death Shot.
1'.
sh. By F. Whittaker.
ue. Mayne Reid.

m E. Badger.
: or, Krr
. By Cap . J. F. C..Adnms
agtain. By Whittaker.

y Dr. J. H. Robinson.
«Blade. J. E. Badger.

Hand. By Aiken.

t of the Red Cross;
or. Tn MM or GMAoA. Dr. J. H. Robinson.
Mayne Reid.

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80 A Man of Nerve. By P. S. Wame.
81 The Human Tiger. By Aiken.

82 Iron Wrist. the Swordnlaster.
By Col. Thomas 11. Mouse» 7’.

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83 Gold Bullet Sport. By Buffalo Bill.
84 Hunted Down. By A. W. Aiken.
85 The Cretan Rover. By lngrahnm.
86 The Bi Hunter; or. THE QUEEN
OF THE Woons. y the author of “ Silent Hunter.“
87 The Scarlet Captain. Delle Sara.
88 Big George. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
89 The Pirate Prince. By lngruham.
90 Wild Will. By Buckskin Sam.
91 The Winning Oar. By Aiken.
92 Buffalo Bill. ByDangerileld Burr.
93 Captain Dick Talbot. By Aiken.
94 Freelance, By Col. 1’. Ingrnham.
95 Azhort, 'l‘nE AxMAN. By A. P. Morris.
96 Double-Death. By F. Whittaker.
97 Bronze Jack. By A. W. Aiken.
98 The Rock Rider. By Whittaker.
99 The Giant Rifleman. Oil Coomes
100 The French Spy. By A. P. Morris.
101 The Man from New York; or,
TEE ROMANCE or A RICH YOUNG WOMAN. By Aiken.
102 The Masked Band. Goo. L. Aiken
103 Merle, the Mutineer. Ingraham.
104 Montezuma, the Merciless: or.
Tm: EAGLE AND THE Sam. By Col. P. Ingraham.
105 Dan Brown of Denver, THE
ROCKY MOUNTAIN Drrncrrvn. By Joe. E. Badger. Jr.
106 Shamus O'Brien. Col. Delle Sara.
107 Richard Talbot of Cinnabar:
or, Tux Bnornxns or Tm: RED HAND. B A.W. Aiken.
108 The Duke of Diamon s; or, ’l'nn
Fwwnn or CAwm'rA. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.
109 Captain K d. By Col. lngraham.
1 10 The Silent eman. By Herbert.
1 1 1 The Smuqfler Captain; or, Tar
Surrln‘s Cams. By edBuntline.
112 Joe Phenix, PRIVATE Dmcnvr;
or. Tm: Luann or ran Sum-rail Kns. By Aiken.
113 The Sea Slipper; or, Tun AMA-
rsvn Fansnoorsas. B t. J. H. l ham.
e Gent eman iron: ihe; or,
Tm: Gnos'r or m CANYON. By Philip S. Wei-no.
115 The Severed Head. Whittaker.
116 Black Plume. By Col. Ingraharn.
1 17 Dashing Dandy. By Major Burr.
118 The Burglar Captain; or, Tn:
FALLIN SrrAn. ByPro . J. H. Ingraham.
119 Alabama Joe. By J. E. Badger.
120 The Texan y. By N. 1!.th
121 The Sea C t. By Ingrahun.
122 Saul Sabherda . Nod Enntlino.
123 Alapaha. the new; or, Tin
Anus or m Bonn-n. By Francis Johnson.
1 4 Assowauxn, the Ave or; or,
T3: Doox or m Dnnonns. By Franc Johnson.
125 The Blacksmith Outlaw; or,
Mmmr ENGLAND. By Harrison Ainsworth.
126 The Demon Duelist. By Monetary.
127 Sol Scott. run MAsnn Minn; or,
DAN ‘Baowx‘s Donna By Joseph E. Badger.
128 The Chevalier Corsair; or, Tan
Blaine: or HA-raan. B the author of "Merle."
129 Mississip rho-e. B Ed.Willett.
130 Captain owano. y Aiken.
131 Buckskin Sam. By Col. Ingraham.
182 Reno. of the Tran: 3 or,
Tin Baum Gina‘s Valor-axon. By Win or.
183 .the Rover. By W. Carleton.
184 Dan. By Col. Ingraham.
135 e Bush Eager. By Johnson.
136 The Outlaw- unter. Johnson.
137 Long Beard. By Oil Coomss.
138 The Border Bandits. Johnson.
189 Fire-B e. 'rnn SEA HnNA; or,
Tn Barns or A oceans. By Col. P. Ingraham.
140 The Three Spaniards. By
George Walker.
141 Equinox Tons. By J. E. Badger.
142 Captain Crimson. THE MAN or was
IRON FAcs. By Major D old Burr.
143 The Csar's SE. By Monetary.
144 TheHunchb ofNotre-Dame.
By Victor Hugo.
145 Pistol Pards. By W. R. Eyster.
146 The Doctor Detective; or, Tan
MW! or m Gowns Con-xx. By Geo. Lemuel.
147 Gold Spur. By Col. P. Ingraham.
148 One-Armed All. By Oil Coomes.
149 The Border Rifles. By Aimard.
150 El Ruble Bravo. KING or m:
Bram. By 001. Thomas Hoyer Monstery.
151 The Preebooters. By Aimard.
152 Captain Ironnerve, ran COUN-
nnrmun Cum. By Marmaduke Dey.
153 The White Scalper. By Almard.
154 Joaquin, ran SAnnu: KING. By
Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

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155 The Corsair Queen. Ingraham.

156 Velvet Pace. By Major Burr.

157 Mourad. THE MAMELUKE. By
Col. Thomas H0 131' Monster '.

158 The Doomed Dozen. Dr. Powell.

159 Red Rudiger. By F. Whittaker.

160 Soft Hand. Sha . By Eyster.

161 The Wolves of yew York; or,
JOE I’HnNix‘s GREAT MAN HUNT. By A. W. Aiken.

162 The Mad Mariner: or, DISHUN-
0mm AND IllSUWNl-Il). By Col. Prentiss Ingmhnm.

163 Ben Brion, THE TRAPPER CAP-
TAIN. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

164 The King’s Pool. By C. D. Clark.

165 Joaquin, the Terrible. Badger.

166 Owlet. the Robber Prince: or,
THE UNKNOWN HIGHWAYMAN. By Septimus R.Urb&n.

167 The Man of Steel. A. P. Mori‘iF.

168 Wild Bill, THE PISTOL DEAD SHOT.
By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

169 Corporal Cannon. THE MAN or
Fonn’ Dunne. By Colonel Thomas Hoyer Monstery

170 Sweet William, THE TRAPpsR
DETECTIVE. By Jose h E. Badger, Jr.

1 Tiger lgick, THE MAN or run-
Inox Hum. B Phiii S. Wane.

172 The moi Pirate. By Ingrabam.

178 California John. By A.W. Aiken.

174 Phantom Kn hts. By Whittaker.

175 Wild Bill's rump Card. By
Major Dangerfield Burr.

176 Lady Jaguarnnn Rosana Qum-
By Captain Mark Wilton.

177 Don Diablo, rm: PLANTER-COR-
sun. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

178 Dark Dashwood. By Major Hall-

179 Conrad, the Convict; or. WAs
HI 131-run? By Prof. Stewart Gildersleeve, LLB.

180 Old '49. By Joe. E. Badger, Jr.

181 The let Schooner: 0?. TH!
Nature or ran nA. By Col. Prentiss Ingabam.

182 Hands U i By Wm. B: yster.

183 Gilbert. e Guide. C. D. Clark.

184 The Ocean Variant-e; or, T:-
Hamxss or Cum Conn. By oi. P. Ingrshsm.

185 Man Spider. By A. P. Morris.

186 The Black Bravo. Buckskin Sam.

187 The Death’s Head Cuirassiers:
or, Bun or Au. BRAVES. ByCa t. Fred.Whittaker.-.

188 The Phantom eppa. By
Molar B rfleld Burr.

89 11d Bill’s Geld Trail: or. Tar
Dian-ADO Dona. By Col. Pren Incl-alien.

190 The Three Gangs-en. By
Alexandre Dumas.

191 The Terrible Tonhaway; or,
01.1) ROCKY AND His PARDB. BgBuckskin Sam.

192 The Lightning
BAD MsN or SLAuon'rln BAR. "By Wm. B. Eyater.

193 The Man in Red. By F.Whittaker.

194 Don Sombrero. ma CALIFORNIA
ROAD GkN-r. By Captain Mark Wilton.

195 The Lone Star Gambler: or,.
Tn: Mun or ran momma. By Buckskin 8am.
qdfiPifldfififflr"m'

. . en.

197 lieu!

Col. Prentiss Ingrshan.

199 Diamond Dick. m DANDY non

Dmsa. ByBuclmkinBam.
200 The Ride Rangers- By Ca t..
Mayne Reid. p
201 The Pirate of the Pincers: or,
JOAQUIX'B Burn-Rm. By JOIODh 3- Badger, Jr.
303 cw‘u 1.0L 'rnz GIAN-r Guam.

or. Tns MAsaan or Bucx BIND. By
OsptaInMAI-kWilton.

203 The Double Detective. B! Al“
bertW. Aiken.

204 Big Foot Wallace, m Inc or-

us LAiuAr; or. WILD Wou. m Wm 3! Buck-
skin 8am.

Prentiss

205 The Ga-hler Pirate. By 001..
Ila-Mm- .
206 One Eye. tho Cmonoer: or.

MAasaAu. Nn‘s Lu: W- 3! CON. Frederick
Whittaker.

so? on and Head: or, Wmenm v

All) His MILK-Wm! lint. By Philip S. Wame.
208 The White Chief.
Mayne Reid.
A m how every week.

Beadle’s Dime Library is for sale I) all
Newsdealers. ten cents per copy or sent by on
meal t of twelve cents each. BEADLE & ADAMS.
pub are. 98 William Street. New York.

port ; or, Tan.

Dmo'rrvr.‘

B J hm verJRoh. TBIRIDHANDID;.
I 066 l' 1‘.
198p'1‘henogfeleton Schooner. By'

By Captain ' .“

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