her dark Spanish
eyes.

"You will save him, madame? You----"

"Against all the marshals of France, child. Go, wait in there."

The marshal of France present smiled on his bride indulgently,
admiringly, as she closed the door and faced him.

She was less than half his age, the girl wife of a gray-haired veteran,
and as his wife she was second lady of the land. A Mexican aristocrat,
small and slender, of a subtle, winsome beauty, with the prettiest mouth
and the most pyramidal of crinolines, she had reminded Bazaine of his
first wife, and he had courted her. At the wedding Maximilian had stood
padrino for the groom, and Charlotte madrina for the bride. The imperial
gift to groom and bride was Buena Vista, as the white mansion and
gardens in San Cosme were called. Naturally, then, Madame la Marechale
approved of Napoleon's _official_ instructions, which directed that
Monsieur le Marechal was to establish the Mexican empire solidly and for
all time.

Now her manner of calling the marshal Pancho was considerable of an
argument, especially when, archly formal, she made it Don Pancho. What
if this Confederate aid were to go to the Mexican rebels, as it surely
would if the emissary at Tuxtla were shot? And, without either French or
Confederates, the Empire would fall, the rebels would win; and then, she
wanted to know, what would become of their beautiful home, of their high
position? Moreover, the United States was threatening to drive the
French from Mexico, and Madame la Marechale believed it a very good
thing for the French to have at their side some of the very men who had
held those Yankees back for four long years.

Bazaine wavered. Then he smiled. This Mexican bride of his was Mexican
all the time; and French, sometimes not at all. She had not the big
trust in the pantalons rouges when it came to those Yankees.

"But, Pancho mio," she went on softly, "now for the real reason, the one
that holds you back. It is your Emperor Napoleon, verdad? You think that
he does not want this offer to reach Maximilian. Bien, have you had any
intimation of what he wants? Any orders? Of course you haven't. Then
save this American. Look at me--Don Pancho, I say-if----"

"Sapristi, call the girl in! No, first I must have----"

When madame could free herself from what he must have, she opened the
door and triumphantly called to Jacqueline's maid.

A half-hour later, in one of the marshal's own carriages, Berthe
returned to the c