then addressing, from
the bottom of my heart, a last farewell to Clementine, I did not even
hope to see her again. I will see you again, then, O sweet and confiding
Clementine--best of spouses, and, probably, of mothers! What do I say? I
see her now! My eyes do not deceive me! This is surely she! There she
is, just as I left her! Clementine! In my arms! On my heart! Look here!
What's this you've been whining to me, the rest of you? Napoleon is not
dead, and the world has not grown forty-six years older, for Clementine
is still the same!"

The betrothed of Leon Renault was about entering the room, and stopped
petrified at finding herself so overwhelmingly received by the Colonel.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE GAME OF LOVE AND WAR.

As she was evidently backward in falling into his arms, Fougas imitated
Mahomet, and ran to the mountain.

"Oh, Clementine!" said he, covering her with kisses, "the friendly Fates
give you back to my devotion. I clasp once more the partner of my life
and the mother of my child!"

The young lady was so astounded, that she did not even dream of
defending herself. Happily, Leon Renault extricated her from the hands
of the Colonel, and placed himself between them, determined to defend
his own.

"Monsieur," cried he, clenching his fists, "you deceive yourself
entirely, if you think you know _Mademoiselle_. She is not a person of
your time, but of ours; she is not your _fiancee_, but mine; she has
never been the mother of your child, and I trust that she will be the
mother of mine!"

Fougas was iron. He seized his rival by the arm, sent him off spinning
like a top, and put himself face to face with the young girl.

"Are you Clementine?" he demanded of her.

"Yes, Monsieur."

"I call you all to witness that she is my Clementine!"

Leon returned to the charge, and seized the Colonel by the collar, at
the risk of getting himself dashed against the walls.

"We've had joking enough!" said he. "Possibly you don't pretend to
monopolize all the Clementines in the world? Mademoiselle's name is
Clementine Sambucco; she was born at Martinique, where you never set
your foot, if I am to believe what you have said within an hour. She is
eighteen years old----"

"So was the other!"

"Eh! The other is sixty-four to-day, since she was eighteen in 1813.
Mlle. Sambucco is of an honorable and well-known family. Her father, M.
Sambucco, was a magistrate; her grandfather was a functionary of the war
dep