of the Empire. All the halls of the Tuileries were
packed with a crowd in richly embroidered coats and brilliant uniforms.
The military household of the Emperor, his civil household, the generals
present at Paris, the diplomatic corps, ministers and chiefs of the
different administrations, the deputies of the departments with their
prefects, and mayors decorated with tricolored scarfs, were all assembled
in numerous groups, and conversed in a low tone while awaiting the
arrival of his Majesty.

In one of these groups was seen a tall officer dressed in a very simple
uniform, cut in the fashion of several years past. He wore neither on
his collar, nor even on his breast the decoration which no officer of his
grade then lacked. This was Colonel Delelee. The president of the
deputation of which he was a member appeared embarrassed and almost
distressed. Of the former comrades of the colonel, very few dared to
recognize him, and the boldest gave him a distant nod which expressed at
the same time anxiety and pity, while the more prudent did not even
glance at him.

As for him, he remained unconcerned and resolute.

At last the folding doors were opened, and an usher cried "The Emperor,
gentlemen."

The groups separated, and a line was formed, the colonel placing himself
in the first rank.

His Majesty commenced his tour of the room, welcoming the president of
each delegation with a few flattering words. Arrived before the
delegation from Doubs, the Emperor, having addressed a few words to the
brave marshal who was president, was about to pass on to the next, when
his eyes fell upon an officer he had not yet seen. He stopped in
surprise, and addressed to the deputy his familiar inquiry, "Who are
you?"

"Sire, I am Colonel Delelee, former aide-de-camp of General Moreau."

These words were pronounced in a firm voice, which resounded in the midst
of the profound silence which the presence of the sovereign imposed.

The Emperor stepped back, and fastened both eyes on the colonel. The
latter showed no emotion, but bowed slightly.

Marshal Moncey was pale as death.

The Emperor spoke. "What do you come to ask here?"

"That which I have asked for many years, Sire: that your Majesty will
deign to tell me wherein I have been in fault, or restore to me my rank."

Among those near enough to hear these questions and replies, few could
breathe freely. At last a smile half opened the firmly closed lips of
the Emperor; he plac