till dare to bandy words with me?'

'When I have justice on my side.'

There was a hush amidst all the great audience; such a heavy silence as
comes only when many are waiting, and all with bated breath.
The Emperor's face was terrible. His cheeks were of a greenish, livid
tint, and there was a singular rotary movement of the muscles of his
forehead. It was the countenance of an epileptic. He raised the whip
to his shoulder, and took a step towards the admiral.

'You insolent rascal!' he hissed. It was the Italian word _coglione_
which he used, and I observed that as his feelings overcame him his
French became more and more that of a foreigner.

For a moment he seemed to be about to slash the sailor across the face
with his whip. The latter took a step back, and clapped his hand to his
sword.

'Have a care, Sire,' said he.

For a few instants the tension was terrible. Then Napoleon brought the
whip down with a sharp crack against his own thigh.

'Vice-Admiral Magon,' he cried, 'you will in future receive all orders
connected with the fleet. Admiral Bruix, you will leave Boulogne in
twenty-four hours and withdraw to Holland. Where is Lieutenant Gerard,
of the Hussars of Bercheny?'

My companion's gauntlet sprang to his busby.

'I ordered you to bring Monsieur Louis de Laval from the castle of
Grosbois.'

'He is here, Sire.'

'Good! You may retire.'

The lieutenant saluted, whisked round upon his heel, and clattered away,
whilst the Emperor's blue eyes were turned upon me. I had often heard
the phrase of eyes looking through you, but that piercing gaze did
really give one the feeling that it penetrated to one's inmost thoughts.
But the sternness had all melted out of it, and I read a great
gentleness and kindness in their expression.

'You have come to serve me, Monsieur de Laval?'

'Yes, Sire.'

'You have been some time in making up your mind.'

'I was not my own master, Sire.'

'Your father was an aristocrat?'

'Yes, Sire.'

'And a supporter of the Bourbons?'

'Yes, Sire.'

'You will find that in France now there are no aristocrats and no
Jacobins; but that we are all Frenchmen working for the glory of our
country. Have you seen Louis de Bourbon?'

'I have seen him once, Sire?'

'An insignificant-looking man, is he not?'

'No, Sire, I thought him a fine-looking man.'

For a moment I saw a hard gleam of resentment in those changing blue
eyes. Then he put out his hand and pi