ay be the name of this man whom you praise so greatly, my pretty
one?" he asked her.

"That I cannot tell, M. le Marshal. All I know is he calls himself here
Louis Victor."

"Ah! I have heard much of him. A fine soldier, but--"

"A fine soldier without a 'but,'" interrupted Cigarette, with rebellious
indifference to the rank of the great man she corrected, "unless you
add, 'but never done justice by his Chief.'"

As she spoke, her eyes for the first time glanced over the various
personages who were mingled among the staff of the Marshal, his invited
guests for the review upon the plains. The color burned more duskily
in her cheek, her eyes glittered with hate; she could have bitten her
little, frank, witty tongue through and through for having spoken
the name of that Chasseur who was yonder, out of earshot, where the
lance-heads of his squadrons glistened against the blue skies. She saw
a face which, though seen but once before, she knew instantly again--the
face of "Milady." And she saw it change color, and lose its beautiful
hue, and grow grave and troubled as the last words passed between
herself and the French Marshal.

"Ah! can she feel?" wondered Cigarette, who, with a common error of such
vehement young democrats as herself, always thought that hearts never
ached in the Patrician Order, and thought so still when she saw the
listless, proud tranquility return, not again to be altered, over the
perfect features that she watched with so much violent, instinctive
hate. "Did she heed his name, or did she not? What are their faces in
that Order? Only alabaster masks!" mused the child. And her heart sank,
and bitterness mingled with her joy, and the soul that had a moment
before been so full of all pure and noble emotion, all high and
patriotic and idealic thought, was dulled and soiled and clogged with
baser passions. So ever do unworthy things drag the loftier nature
earthward.

She scarcely heard the Marshal's voice as it addressed her with a kindly
indulgence, as to a valued soldier and a spoiled pet in one.

"Have no fear, Little One. Victor's claims are not forgotten, though
we may await our own time to investigate and reward them. No one ever
served the Empire and remained unrewarded. For yourself, wear your Cross
proudly. It glitters above not only the bravest, but the most generous,
heart in the service."

None had ever won such warm words from the redoubted chief, whose speech
was commonly rapid and