fluttered behind them in a pretence
of service, he heard both too much for his peace of mind and too little
for his complete enlightenment.

At first the talk was of family matters, chiefly of Napoleon at Elba,
with whom Pauline begged her brother-in-law to be reconciled, for this
was in the summer of 1814, when Murat, foreseeing that Napoleon's star
had set, had signed a treaty with the allies.

"One would think I had done enough for your brother," he said, moodily.
"I left my kingdom to lead the cavalry of the _grande armee_ in the
Russian campaign. I gained his victories and I commanded the _escadron
sacree_ which protected his person in the retreat, and what is my
reward?"

"What is your present position?" the Princess asked.

"I am your brother-in-law," Murat replied, "but, as I wrote Napoleon, I
conferred as much honour as I received when I married your sister, and,
as for my kingship, the Emperor wished only a devoted servant whom he
could command, and he has discovered his mistake."

The eyes of Pauline Bonaparte shot fire while the other spoke. "You are
very stupid to talk in this way to me, Joachim," she said, commanding
herself in time. "You needed Napoleon--you need him now, for your
scheme will never succeed unless he supports you. It is your good
fortune that he needs you enough to forgive your defection. The family
stands or falls together, _mon ami_."

"Evidently your mother does not think so," Murat replied, with pique. "I
have just brought Madame Mere a present of eight fine carriage-horses.
She declined them with thanks, and would not see me when I called on her
in Rome. As for my loving brother-in-law, your noble husband----"

"Why should you mind Camillo's sulks since I do not? He and Madame Mere
have such amusing ideas. It was not so much Caroline's correspondence
with your 'dear Metternich' which offended them and my brother, too.
They have never forgotten that little affair of the silver lemon
squeezer. Ah, _mon ami_! you had had too much champagne when you brewed
that bowl of punch at the officers' dinner."

"I never said that it was the Empress who taught me the recipe and gave
me the lemon squeezer," he retorted, flushing.

"Oh! no; nor told you that oranges and not lemons were used with Jamaica
rum in the islands; nor why pretty creoles were like lemons."

"Do you mean to provoke me?" Murat exclaimed, rising quickly.

"No, _mon ami_, though I shared in that suspicion, too, for the