r guns
at me."

"Sire," cried one of the veterans, dropping his musket and running his
ramrod down the barrel, "it is not loaded. We only went through the
motions."

The Emperor laughed. He was nearer.

"Lestoype," he said, "is it thou, old comrade, and Grenier and Drehon!"

It was astonishing that he should remember them, but so he did. He
went down the line, speaking to the men, inspecting them just as of
old. The officers could not keep them in line. They crowded about
their old leader. Shouts of "_Vive l'Empereur!_" rent the air. Men
took off their caps, tore out the hated white cockades, trampled them
under foot, and from pockets where they had concealed them for this
very moment, they replaced them with the tricolor.

In his movements the Emperor at last confronted the Marquis.

"And who is this?" asked Napoleon, staring up at him curiously.

The Marquis' heart was broken. It was not in the human power of any
servant of the King to dominate that scene. A greater personality than
his was there. The Emperor had shown himself as of yore, and exhibited
his mastery. But no greater ideal possessed any man than that in the
heart of the old noble. He hated, he loathed, he abominated the man
who looked up at him. He saw in the action of the soldiery a picture
of the action of France, the downfall of the King. Well, it flashed
into his mind that he at least, and perhaps he alone, might put a stop
to it. From his holster he whipped out a pistol and leveled it at the
Emperor. Lestoype, riding near, struck up his hand, the bullet sped
harmlessly, the Emperor stood unharmed. A roar of rage burst from the
soldiers who came running. Dropping the weapon and reining his
startled horse violently back, so as to give himself a certain present
and temporary freedom of action, the Marquis drew his other pistol.
Lestoype spurred his horse in front of the Emperor, but Napoleon was
not menaced.

"Have no fear," said the Marquis almost gently. "I have failed my
King. The bullet goes into a truer heart--my own," he added proudly.

Before any one could stop him there was a flash, a muffled report, the
spare figure reeled and fell forward on the saddle. He, at least,
after the manner of his house, would not survive a failure which,
although he could not prevent it, must inevitably be charged against
him.

"A brave man," said the Emperor coolly, staring at him with his hard,
bright, gray eyes. "See that his bo