lessy drew himself together with a strong shudder. I had
the desire to stand between him and the shocks of an alien world. Yet
there was about him a tenacious masculine strength, an adroitness of
self-protection which needed no champion.

"Did the Indian tell you about a man named Bellenger?" I inquired.

"Bellenger is part of the old story about the dauphin's removal. I heard
of him first at Coblenz. And I understand now that he is following you
with another dauphin, and objecting to you in various delicate ways.
Napoleon Bonaparte is master of France, and in the way to be master of
Europe, because he has a nice sense of the values of men, and the best
head for detail that was ever formed in human shape. There is something
almost supernatural in his grasp of affairs. He lets nothing escape him.
The only mistake he ever made was butchering the young Duke
d'Enghien--the courage and clearness of the man wavered that one
instant; and by the way, he borrowed my name for the duke's incognito
during the journey under arrest! England, Russia, Austria and Sweden are
combining against Napoleon. He will beat them. For while other men
sleep, or amuse themselves, or let circumstance drive them, he is
planning success and providing for all possible contingencies. Take a
leaf out of the general's book, my boy. No enemy is contemptible. If you
want to force the hand of fortune--scheme!--scheme!--all the
time!--out-scheme the other fellow!"

The marquis rose from the table.

"I am longer winded," he said, "than a man named De Chaumont, who has
been importuning Bonaparte, in season and out of season, to reinstate an
American emigre, a Madame de Ferrier."

"Will Bonaparte restore her lands?" I asked, feeling my voice like a
rope in my throat.

"Do you know her family?"

"I knew Madame de Ferrier in America."

"Their estate lies next to mine. And what is the little De Ferrier like
since she is grown?"

"A beautiful woman."

"Ah--ah! Bonaparte's plan will then be easy of execution. You may see
her this evening here in the Faubourg St. Germain. I believe she is to
appear at Madame de Permon's, where Bonaparte may look in."

My host bolted the doors of his private cabinet, and took from the
secret part of a wall cupboard the queen's jewel-case. We opened it
between us. The first thing I noticed was a gold snuffbox, set with
portraits of the king, the queen, and their two children.

How I knew them I cannot tell. Their pictured