said the Marshal, in a terrible voice. "You are a Councillor
of State--and a private soldier who sells anything belonging to his
regiment is punished with death! Here is a story told to me one day by
Colonel Pourin of the Second Lancers. At Saverne, one of his men fell in
love with a little Alsatian girl who had a fancy for a shawl. The jade
teased this poor devil of a lancer so effectually, that though he
could show twenty years' service, and was about to be promoted to be
quartermaster--the pride of the regiment--to buy this shawl he sold some
of his company's kit.--Do you know what this lancer did, Baron d'Ervy?
He swallowed some window-glass after pounding it down, and died in
eleven hours, of an illness, in hospital.--Try, if you please, to die of
apoplexy, that we may not see you dishonored."

Hulot looked with haggard eyes at the old warrior; and the Prince,
reading the look which betrayed the coward, felt a flush rise to his
cheeks; his eyes flamed.

"Will you, sir, abandon me?" Hulot stammered.

Marshal Hulot, hearing that only his brother was with the Minister,
ventured at this juncture to come in, and, like all deaf people, went
straight up to the Prince.

"Oh," cried the hero of Poland, "I know what you are here for, my old
friend! But we can do nothing."

"Do nothing!" echoed Marshal Hulot, who had heard only the last word.

"Nothing; you have come to intercede for your brother. But do you know
what your brother is?"

"My brother?" asked the deaf man.

"Yes, he is a damned infernal blackguard, and unworthy of you."

The Marshal in his rage shot from his eyes those fulminating fires
which, like Napoleon's, broke a man's will and judgment.

"You lie, Cottin!" said Marshal Hulot, turning white. "Throw down your
baton as I throw mine! I am ready."

The Prince went up to his old comrade, looked him in the face, and
shouted in his ear as he grasped his hand:

"Are you a man?"

"You will see that I am."

"Well, then, pull yourself together! You must face the worst misfortune
that can befall you."

The Prince turned round, took some papers from the table, and placed
them in the Marshal's hands, saying, "Read that."

The Comte de Forzheim read the following letter, which lay uppermost:--

"To his Excellency the President of the Council.

"_Private and Confidential_.

"ALGIERS.

"MY DEAR PRINCE,--We have a very ugly business on our hands, as
you will see by the accompanying documents.