window in the twilight, this solitary
burial on the shore, in the sand, moved Murat more deeply than his own
fate. Great tears filled his eyes and fell silently down the leonine
face. At that moment General Nunziante came in and surprised him with
outstretched arms and face bathed with tears. Murat heard him enter and
turned round, and seeing the old soldier's surprise.

"Yes, general," he said, "I weep; I weep for that boy, just twenty-four,
entrusted to me by his parents, whose death I have brought about. I weep
for that vast, brilliant future which is buried in an unknown grave, in
an enemy's country, on a hostile shore. Oh, Campana! Campana! if ever
I am king again, I will raise you a royal tomb."

The general had had dinner served in an adjacent room. Murat followed
him and sat down to table, but he could not eat. The sight which he had
just witnessed had made him heartbroken, and yet without a line on his
brow that man had been through the battles of Aboukir, Eylau, and Moscow!
After dinner, Murat went into his room again, gave his various letters to
General Nunziante, and begged to be left alone. The general went away.

Murat paced round his room several times, walking with long steps, and
pausing from time to time before the window, but without opening it.

At last he overcame a deep reluctance, put his hand on the bolt and drew
the lattice towards him.

It was a calm, clear night: one could see the whole shore. He looked for
Campana's grave. Two dogs scratching the sand showed him the spot.

The king shut the window violently, and without undressing threw himself
onto his bed. At last, fearing that his agitation would be attributed to
personal alarm, he undressed and went to bed, to sleep, or seem to sleep
all night.

On the morning of the 9th the tailors whom Murat had asked for
arrived. He ordered a great many clothes, taking the trouble to
explain all the details suggested by his fastidious taste. He was
thus employed when General Nunziante came in. He listened sadly to
the king's commands. He had just received telegraphic despatches
ordering him to try the King of Naples by court-martial as a public
enemy. But he found the king so confident, so tranquil, almost
cheerful indeed, that he had not the heart to announce his trial to
him, and took upon himself to delay the opening of operation until he
received written instructions. These arrived on the evening of the
12th. They were cou