if they
do talk about invasion of territory, you can reply: the Margraves were
always open to belligerent parties; remind them of what took place in
'96, and again in 1800,--though, _parbleu_, the souvenir may not be so
pleasant a one. Protract the discussion, at all events, Duroc; time!
time! Then," added he, after a brief pause, "let them advance, and they
'll never pass the Danube. And if they wait for me, I 'll fall upon
them here,--here, between Ulm and Augsburg. You must, however, start for
Berlin at once."

At this instant a heavy hand fell upon my shoulder, and passing down my
arm, seized me by the wrist. I started back, and beheld a dragoon, for
so his helmet and cloak bespoke, of enormous stature, who, motioning me
to silence, led me softly and with noiseless step along the flower-beds,
as if fearful of attracting the Emperor's notice. My limbs tottered
beneath me as I went, for the dreadful imputation an accident might fix
on me stared on me with all its awful consequences. Without a word on
either side we reached the little railing, crossed it, and regained the
open park, when the soldier, placing himself in front of me, said, in a
deep, low voice,--

"Your name; who are you?"

"An officer of the huitieme regiment of hussars," said I, boldly.

"We shall see that presently," replied he, in a tone of disbelief. "How
came you here?"

In a few words I explained how, having remained too late in the garden,
I preferred to pass my night on a bench to the unpleasantness of being
brought up before the officer on duty; adding, that it was only on the
very moment of his coming that I awoke.

"I know that," interrupted he, in a less surly voice. "I found you
sleeping, and feared to awake you suddenly, lest in the surprise a word
or a cry would escape you. One syllable had cost your head."

In the tone of these last few words there was something I thought I
could recognize, and resolving at a bold venture in such an emergency as
I found myself placed, I said at a hazard,--

"The better fortune mine, that I fell into the hands of a kind as well
as a brave soldier,--the Corporal Pioche."

"Sacristi! You know me then!" cried he, thunderstruck.

"To be sure I do. Could I be an aide-de-camp to the General d'Auvergne,
and not have heard of Pioche?"

"An aide-de-camp of the general," said he, starting back, as he carried
his hand to the salute. "Pardon, mon officier; but you know that duty--"

"Quite true; it was