roc; he was to win the memorable
battles of Lutzen and Bautzen, to see himself treacherously deserted by
Austria, Saxony, Bavaria, and Bernadotte, and to dispute the dreadful
field of Leipsic. The magnificent review commanded for that day by the
Emperor was to be the last of so many which had long drawn forth the
admiration of Paris and of foreign visitors. For the last time the Old
Guard would execute their scientific military manoeuvres with the pomp
and precision which sometimes amazed the Giant himself. Napoleon was
nearly ready for his duel with Europe. It was a sad sentiment which
brought a brilliant and curious throng to the Tuileries. Each mind
seemed to foresee the future, perhaps too in every mind another thought
was dimly present, how that in the future, when the heroic age of France
should have taken the half-fabulous color with which it is tinged for
us to-day, men's imaginations would more than once seek to retrace the
picture of the pageant which they were assembled to behold.

"Do let us go more quickly, father; I can hear the drums," the young
girl said, and in a half-teasing, half-coaxing manner she urged her
companion forward.

"The troops are marching into the Tuileries," said he.

"Or marching out of it--everybody is coming away," she answered in
childish vexation, which drew a smile from her father.

"The review only begins at half-past twelve," he said; he had fallen
half behind his impetuous daughter.

It might have been supposed that she meant to hasten their progress by
a movement of her right arm, for it swung like an oar blade through the
water. In her impatience she had crushed her handkerchief into a ball in
her tiny, well-gloved fingers. Now and then the old man smiled, but the
smiles were succeeded by an anxious look which crossed his withered face
and saddened it. In his love for the fair young girl by his side, he
was as fain to exalt the present moment as to dread the future. "She is
happy to-day; will her happiness last?" he seemed to ask himself, for
the old are somewhat prone to foresee their own sorrows in the future of
the young.

Father and daughter reached the peristyle under the tower where the
tricolor flag was still waving; but as they passed under the arch by
which people came and went between the Gardens of the Tuileries and the
Place du Carrousel, the sentries on guard called out sternly:

"No admittance this way."

By standing on tiptoe the young girl contrived t