off with their
three prisoners, when Napoleon perceived that the Austrian servant was
weeping bitterly. He reassured him as to his safety, but the poor lad
replied, sobbing, that he knew the French treated their prisoners well,
but that, as he had on him a belt, containing nearly all his captain's
money, he was afraid that the officer would accuse him of deserting in
order to rob him, and he was heart-broken at the thought. Touched by the
worthy fellow's distress, the Emperor told him that he was free, and as
soon as we were before Vienna, he would be passed through the outposts,
and be able to return to his master. Then, taking a rouleau of 1,000
francs, he put it in the man's hand, saying, 'One must honour goodness
wherever it is shown.' Lastly, the Emperor gave some pieces of gold to
each of the other two prisoners, and ordered that they too should be
sent back to the Austrian outposts, so that they might forget the fright
which we had caused them, and that it might not be said that any
soldiers, even enemies, had spoken to the Emperor of the French without
receiving some benefit.

_THE PITEOUS DEATH OF GASTON, SON OF THE COUNT OF FOIX_

MORE than five hundred years ago, on St. Catherine's Day, 1388, Master
Jean Froissart, a priest of Hainault, rode into the little town of
Orthez. He was in search of information about battles and tournaments,
for he was writing his famous 'History and Chronicle.' To get news of
all kinds he rode gaily about, with a white greyhound in a leash, and
carrying a novel which he had begun for the entertainment of ladies and
princes. Arriving at Orthez (where, long afterwards, the Duke of
Wellington fought the French on the borders of Spain), Master Froissart
alighted at the hotel with the sign of the Moon. Meanwhile a knight who
had travelled with Froissart went up to the castle, and paid his court
to Gaston Phoebus, Count of Foix. He found the Count in the gallery of
the palace just after dinner, for this prince always went to bed at
midday and took supper at midnight. He was a great and powerful noble,
of stately and beautiful presence, though now he was nearly sixty years
old. A wise knight he was, bold in enterprise, and of good counsel.
Never did he suffer any unbeliever in his company, and he was very
pious, every day making many and long prayers, and giving alms to the
poor folk at his gate. He took much delight in minstrelsy, and at his
midnight supper songs and virelays w