hat his
father exclaimed, with deep emotion: "What can this duty be?"

"Father," said the marshal, after remaining a moment in thoughtful
silence, "who made me what I am? Who gave me the ducal title, and the
marshal's baton?"

"Napoleon."

"For you, the stern republican, I know that he lost all his value, when
from the first citizen of a Republic he became an emperor.

"I cursed his weakness," said Father Simon, sadly; "the demi-god sank
into a man."

"But for me, father--for me, the soldier, who have always fought beside
him, or under his eye--for me, whom he raised from the lowest rank in the
army to the highest--for me, whom he loaded with benefits and marks of
affection--for me, he was more than a hero, he was a friend--and there
was as much gratitude as admiration in my idolatry for him. When he was
exiled, I would fain have shared his exile; they refused me that favor;
then I conspired, then I drew my sword against those who had robbed his
son of the crown which France had given him."

"And, in your position, you did well, Pierre; without sharing your
admiration, I understood your gratitude. The projects of exile, the
conspiracies--I approved them all--you know it."

"Well, then, that disinherited child, in whose name I conspired seventeen
years ago, is now of an age to wield his father's sword."

"Napoleon II!" exclaimed the old man, looking at his son with surprise
and extreme anxiety; "the king of Rome!"

"King? no; he is no longer king. Napoleon? no; he is no longer Napoleon.
They have given him some Austrian name, because the other frightened
them. Everything frightens them. Do you know what they are doing with the
son of the Emperor?" resumed the marshal, with painful excitement. "They
are torturing him--killing him by inches!"

"Who told you this?"

"Somebody who knows, whose words are but too true. Yes; the son of the
Emperor struggles with all his strength against a premature death. With
his eyes turned towards France, he waits--he waits--and no one comes--no
one--out of all the men that his father made as great as they once were
little, not one thinks of that crowned child, whom they are stifling,
till he dies."

"But you think of him?"

"Yes; but I had first to learn--oh! there is no doubt of it, for I have
not derived all my information from the same source--I had first to learn
the cruel fate of this youth, to whom I also swore allegiance; for one
day, as I have told you, the Emperor,