hem, too. Meanwhile, you may want money--"

"No, General," cried I, eagerly; "here are three thousand francs some
kind friend sent me. I know not whence they came; and even if I wanted,
did not dare to spend them. But now--"

The old man paused, and appeared confused, while he leaned his finger on
his forehead, and seemed endeavoring to recall some passing thought.

"Did they come from you, sir?" said I, timidly.

"No, not from me," repeated he, slowly. "You say you never found out the
donor?"

"Never," said I, while a sense of shame prevented my adding what rose to
my mind,--Could they not be from Mademoiselle de Meudon?

"Well, well," said he, at length, "be it so. And now till to-morrow: I
shall be here at noon, and bring the minister's order with me. And so,
good-by."

"Good-by," said I, as I stood overcome with happiness. "Let what will
come of it, this is a moment worth living for."

CHAPTER XXXIX. A MORNING AT THE TUILLERIES

True to his appointment, the general appeared the following day as
the hour of noon was striking. He brought the official papers from
the Minister of War, as well as the formal letter naming me his
aide-de-camp. The documents were all perfectly regular; and being read
over by the military commission, I was sent for, when my sword was
restored to me by the colonel of the regiment in garrison, and I was
free once more.

"You have received a severe lesson, Burke," said the general, as he took
my arm to lead me towards his carriage, "and all owing to the rashness
with which, in times of difficulty and danger, you permitted yourself to
form intimacies with men utterly unknown to you. There are epochs when
weakness is the worst of evils. You are very young, to be sure, and I
trust the experience you have acquired here will serve for a lifetime."

"Still, sir, in all this sad business, my faith never wavered; my
attachment to the Consul was unshaken."

"Had it been otherwise, do you think you had been here now?" said he,
dryly. "Were not the evidences of your fidelity set off against
your folly, what chance of escape remained for you? No, no; she who
befriended you so steadily throughout this tangled scheme for your ruin,
had never advocated your cause were there reason to suppose you were
involved in the conspiracy against her husband's life."

"Who do you mean?" said I. "I scarcely understand."

"The Consulesse, of course. But for Madame Bonaparte you were lost; even
since I