It was he and no one else who
delivered Paris to the allies and thus brought about the downfall of
Bonaparte, and the restoration of our dear King Louis to the throne of
France."

"Tush, child, I know that," said Madame with her habitual tartness of
speech, "I know it just as well as history will know it presently, and
methinks that history will pass on the Duc de Raguse just about the same
judgment as I passed on him in my heart last year. God knows I hate that
Bonaparte as much as anyone, and our Bourbon kings are almost as much a
part of my religion as is the hierarchy of saints, but a traitor like
de Marmont I cannot stomach. What was he before Bonaparte made him a
marshal of France and created him Duc de Raguse?--An out-at-elbows
ragamuffin in the ranks of the republican army. To Bonaparte he owed
everything, title, money, consideration, even the military talents which
gave him the power to turn on the hand that had fed him. Delivered Paris
to the allies indeed!" continued the Duchesse with ever-increasing
indignation and volubility, "betrayed Bonaparte, then licked the boots
of the Czar of Russia, of the Emperor, of King Louis, of all the deadly
enemies of the man to whom he owed his very existence. Pouah! I hate
Bonaparte, but men like Ney and Berthier and de Marmont sicken me! Thank
God that even in his life-time, de Marmont, Duc de Raguse, has already
an inkling of what posterity will say of him. Has not the French
language been enriched since the capitulation of Paris with a new word
that henceforth and for all times will always spell disloyalty: and
to-day when we wish to describe a particularly loathsome type of
treachery, do we not already speak of a 'ragusade'?"

Crystal had listened in silence to her aunt's impassioned tirade. Now
when Madame paused--presumably for want of breath--she said gently:

"That is all quite true, _ma tante_, but I am afraid that father would
not altogether see eye to eye with you in this. After all," she added
naively, "a pagan may become converted to Christianity without being
called a traitor to his false gods, and the Duc de Raguse may have
learnt to hate the idol whom he once worshipped, and for this profession
of faith we should honour him, I think."

"Yes," grunted Madame, unconvinced, "but we need not marry into his
family."

"But in any case," retorted Crystal, "poor Victor cannot help what his
uncle did."

"No, he cannot," assented the Duchesse decisively, "and