cross a wall. At this time France
was mysteriously flooded with cheap portraits of the great Napoleon.
It was before the days of pictorial advertisement, and young ladies who
wished to make an advantageous marriage had no means of advertising the
fact and themselves in supplements to illustrated papers. The walls of
inns and shops and diligence offices were therefore barer than they are
to-day. And from these bare walls stared out at this time the well-known
face of the great Napoleon. It was an innovation, and as such readily
enough accepted.

At every fair, at the great fete of St. Jean, at St. Jean d'Angely and
a hundred other fetes of purely local notoriety, at least one hawker of
cheap lithographs was to be found. And if the buyer haggled, he could
get the portrait of the great Emperor for almost nothing.

"One cannot print it at such a cost," the seller assured his purchasers,
which was no less than the truth.

The fairs were, and are to this day, the link between the remoter
villages and the world; and the peasants carried home with them a
picture, for the first time, to hang on their walls. Thus the Prince
President fostered the Napoleonic legend.

Dormer Colville would walk up to these pictures, and, as often as not,
would turn and look over his shoulder at Barebone, with a short laugh.
For as often as not, the numerals were scrawled across the face in
pencil.

But Barebone had ceased to laugh at the constant repetition now. Soon
Colville ceased to point out the silent witness, for he perceived that
Loo was looking for it himself, detecting its absence with a gleam of
determination in his eyes or noting its recurrence with a sharp sigh, as
of the consciousness of a great responsibility.

Thus the reality was gradually forced upon him that that into which he
had entered half in jest was no jest at all; that he was moving forward
on a road which seemed easy enough, but of which the end was not
perceptible; neither was there any turning to one side or the other.

All men who have made a mark--whether it be a guiding or warning sign
to those that follow--must at one moment of their career have perceived
their road before them, thus. Each must have realised that once set out
upon that easy path there is no turning aside and no turning back. And
many have chosen to turn back while there was yet time, leaving the
mark unmade. For most men are cowards and shun responsibility. Most men
unconsciously steer their