le I was sleeping, and all seemed bright, but
when I opened my eyes and did not see you, the room appeared dark,
although the sun was shining. But now you are here, and my dreams are
realized."

Napoleon's face suddenly turned gloomy, and the smile disappeared from
his lips. "I also had a dream," he said, gravely. "It seemed to me as
though I lay on a bed of flowers, and two stars were twinkling above me,
and as they came nearer I saw that they were not stars, but bright eyes
beaming in a manly face, and looking at me with tenderness. I was
fascinated. I raised myself as if borne on angel-wings, and stretched
out my arms toward the approaching form. Suddenly I uttered a scream;
the friend had been changed into a wolf that rushed toward me, and
fixing his eyes on mine, tore my breast and fed upon my heart. Oh, I was
in horrible pain--not imaginary but real--for I screamed so loudly that
Constant, my _valet de chambre_, hastened from the adjoining room and
awakened me. Even now that I think of it I tremble, and sadness fills my
soul." He bent his head on his breast, and, folding his hands behind
him, paced the room slowly.

Alexander looked smilingly at him, but approaching, said: "Sire, why
this melancholy? In truth, when looking at you, one might think, my
august friend, that you believed in dreams."

"I do," exclaimed Napoleon, quickly raising his head. "Dreams are
revelations from on high! Had Julius Caesar believed in his dreams, and
in the prophecies of the astrologers, he would not have fallen by the
daggers of assassins."

"But how will your majesty interpret the dream that tormented you last
night?" asked Alexander.

Napoleon bent a strange look on his frank countenance. "Alexander," he
said, in a low voice, "could you ever transform yourself into a wolf,
and tear out my heart?"

"I, Napoleon, I?" ejaculated Alexander, starting back in dismay. "Your
majesty, then, does not believe in my friendship, in the profound
admiration for you that fills my soul? All I have said and done has then
been in vain! Instead of having won your esteem, your majesty distrusts
me, and believes the follies of the imagination in sleep rather than the
protestations of reason, interest, and friendship!"

"No, no," said Napoleon, affectionately, and almost touched by the
profound grief depicted in Alexander's countenance, "I believe that your
majesty returns a little the love I feel for you. I believe in your
noble heart, in spit