ly seen those patents, but I
have seen the man."

"Very interesting," agreed Breitmann, brushing the crumbs into his hand
and dropping them on his plate. "But, go on."

"What a man!" breathed Fitzgerald, who began to see the drift of things.

"I proceed, then. Two generations passed. I doubt if the third
generation of this family has ever heard of the affair. One day the
last of his race, in clearing up the salable things in his house--for
he had decided to lease it--stumbled on the scant history of his
forebears. He was at school then; a promising youngster, brave,
cheerful, full of adventure and curiosity. Contrary to the natural
sequence of events, he chose the navy, where he did very well. But in
some way Germany found out what France already knew. Here was a fine
chance for a stroke of politics. France had always watched; without
fear, however, but with half-formed wonder. Germany considered the
case: why not turn this young fellow loose on France, to worry and to
harry her? So, quietly Germany bore on the youth in that cold-blooded,
Teutonic way she has, and forced him out of the navy.

"He was poor, and poverty among German officers, in either branch, is a
bad thing. Our young friend did not penetrate the cause of this at
first; for he had no intention of utilizing his papers, save to dream
over them. The blood of his great forebear refused to let him bow
under this unjust stroke. He sought a craft, an interesting one. The
net again closed in on him. He began to grow desperate, and
desperation was what Germany desired. Desperation would make a tool of
the young fellow. But our young Napoleon was not without wit. He
plotted, but so cleverly and secretly that never a hand could reach out
to stay him. Germany finally offered him an immense bribe. He threw
it back, for now he hated Germany more than he hated France. You
wonder why he hated France? If France had not discarded her empire--I
do not refer to the second empire--he would have been a great personage
to-day. At least this must be one of his ideas.

"And there you are," abruptly. "Here we have a Napoleon, indeed with
all the patience of his great forebear. If Germany had left him alone
he would to-day have been a good citizen, who would never have
permitted futile dreams to enter his head, and who would have
contemplated his greatness with the smile of a philosopher. And who
can say where this will end? It is pitiful."

"Pit