who are dethroned, but to those princes who die under a canopy, and who
are buried, like Charlemagne, their feet in their bucklers, swords at
their sides, crowns on their heads and sceptres in their hands."

"Take care!" replied Chateaubriand. "It is long since I have been
flattered, and it may overcome me. Come and feed my ducks."

The impressible visitor declares that he felt disposed to fall upon his
knees before this grand and simple human being, but refrained. They went
to the middle of a bridge thrown across an arm of the lake, and
Chateaubriand drew from his pocket a piece of bread which he had placed
there after breakfast. This he began to throw into the lake, when a
dozen ducks darted forth from a sort of isle formed of reeds, and
hastened to dispute the repast prepared for them by the hand which had
written _Rene, The Genius of Christianity_ and _The Martyrs_. Whilst
thus engaged, Chateaubriand leaned upon the parapet of the bridge, his
lips contracted by a smile, but his eyes grave and sad. Gradually his
movements became mechanical, his face assumed an expression of profound
melancholy, the shadow of his thoughts passed across his large forehead
like clouds of heaven; and there were among them recollections of his
country, his family and his tender friendships, more sorrowful than all
others. He moved, sighed, and, recalling the presence of his visitor,
turned round.

"If you regret Paris," said Dumas, "why not return? Nothing exiles
you--all recalls you."

"What could I do?" said Chateaubriand. "I was at Cauterets when the
revolution of July took place. I returned to Paris. I saw one throne in
blood, and another in the mud--lawyers making a constitution--a king
shaking hands with rag-pickers: that was mortally sad; above all, when a
man is filled as I am with the great traditions of the monarchy."

"I thought you recognized popular sovereignty?"

"Well, kings should go back from time to time to the source of their
authority--election; but this time they have cut a branch from the tree,
a link from the chain. They should have elected Henry V., not Louis
Philippe."

"A sad wish for the poor child! The Henrys are unfortunate: they have
been poisoned or assassinated."

"Well," said Chateaubriand, "it is better to die by the poniard than
from exile: it is quicker, and you suffer less."

"You will not return to France?"

"Possibly, to defend the duchess de Berri if she is tried."

"And if not?"

"T