ructions to provide me with an escort to
this chateau. The Field-Marshal did so, and the rest you know."

"And you propose to sell estates that have been in the hands of the
family for so long a period? It seems to me that I visited them once
when I was a military student at Brienne. Was not your uncle there at
the time, an officer in command?"

"I have heard him say so."

"I remember him very well now."

"And he you, your Majesty."

"And he intends now to sell the estates?"

"He did, Sire, but now that there is a possibility of the re--of
the----"

"The return of the Bourbons," said Napoleon, divining her thought as
the Countess paused in confusion, "There is no possibility of that,
mademoiselle. In three weeks the armies opposing me will have been
hurled back beyond the frontier. Your family has forfeited its rights
to any consideration at my hands. Your uncle is an _emigre_ who has
never made his submission. I find you, a Frenchwoman, in the company
of my enemies. Your estates are forfeited. Major Marteau, I make you
Comte d'Aumenier. The domains are yours."

"I accept them, your Majesty."

"What! Is it possible----" cried the Countess Laure, her face flaming.

"Silence, mademoiselle. By the laws of war I could have you shot. It
would be a fine example. No Frenchman, however high in rank and
station, no Frenchwoman, however young or beautiful, can fight against
me and France with impunity. Have you anything to say why I should not
mete out to you this well-deserved punishment?"

"Nothing," said the young woman with proud disdain. "The revolution
has taken the lives of many of my people. I am not better than they.
You are the very spirit of the revolution incarnate, Sire, and----"

"Your Majesty," interposed General Maurice.

"Well, sir?" said Napoleon.

General Maurice, a famous light horseman, otherwise known as the Count
de Vivonne, was an old friend and a devoted follower of the Emperor.
He had interfered before on occasion between Napoleon and his victims.
He knew the Emperor thoroughly and loved him. He realized that it was
his time to interpose, or someone's, and he had intuition enough to
suspect that his interposition would be most welcome, that indeed
Napoleon was playing, as he sometimes loved to do, a little comedy.
With a wave of his hand the general checked Marteau, whom he knew
slightly, who had sprung forward to protest to the Emperor at the words
of the woman he lov