or after Waterloo;
the Bourbons put me aside on half-pay. My friends got me back into
service again in 1822, but I had bad luck, and lazed around in garrisons
at Lille, Grenoble, and Strasburg, without getting ahead any. My second
epaulette did not reach me till 1830; then I took a little turn in
Africa. I was made brigadier-general at Isly, got home again, and banged
about from pillar to post until 1848. During that year we had a June
campaign in Paris itself. My heart still bleeds every time I think of
it, and, upon my soul, you're blest in not having seen it. I got three
balls in my body and a commission as general of division. After all,
I've no right to complain for the campaign in Italy brought me good
luck. Here I am, Marshal of France, with a hundred thousand francs
income, and Duke of Solferino in the bargain. Yes, the Emperor has put a
handle to my name. The fact is, that short 'Leblanc' was a little too
short."

"Thunderation!" cried Fougas, "that's splendid! I swear, Leblanc, that
I'm not jealous of your good fortune! It's seldom enough that one
soldier rejoices over the promotion of another; but indeed, from the
bottom of my heart, I assure you that I do now. It's all the better,
since you deserved your honors, and the blind goddess must have had a
glimpse of your heart and talents, over the bandage that covers her
eyes!"

"You're very kind! But let's talk about yourself now: where were you
going when I met you?"

"To see the Emperor."

"So was I; but where the devil were you looking for him?"

"I don't know; somebody was showing me the way."

"But he is at the Tuilleries!"

"No!"

"Yes! There's something under all this; tell me about it."

Fougas did not wait to be urged. The Marshal soon understood from what
sort of danger he had extricated his friend.

"The _concierge_ is mistaken," said he; "the Emperor is at the Palace;
and, as we've reached there now, come with me; perhaps I can present you
after my audience."

"The very thing! Leblanc, my heart beats at the idea of seeing this
young man. Is he a good one? Can he be counted upon? Is he anything like
the other?"

"You can see for yourself. Wait here."

The friendship of these two men dated from the winter of 1812. During
the retreat of the French army, chance flung the lieutenant of artillery
and the colonel of the 23d together. One was eighteen years old, the
other not quite twenty-four. The distance between their ranks was easily
b