nately. "Shall we leave France less
than we found her, after all these victories, after all these
conquests, after all these submissions of kings and nations? Shall we
go back to the limits of the old monarchy? Never!"

"But, Sire----" began Marshal Maret.

"No more," said the Emperor, turning upon the Duc de Bassano. "Rather
death than that. While we have arms we can at least die."

He flashed an imperious look upon the assembly, but no one seemed to
respond to his appeal. The Emperor's glance slowly roved about the
room. The young captain met his look. Instantly and instinctively his
hand went up in salute, his lips framed the familiar phrase:

"_Vive l'Empereur_! Yes, Sire, we can still die for you," he added in
a low respectful voice, but with tremendous emphasis nevertheless.

He was a mere youth, apparently. Napoleon looked at him approvingly,
although some of the marshals, with clouded brows and indignant words
of protest at such an outburst from so young a man, would have reproved
him had not their great leader checked them with a gesture.

"Your name, sir," he said shortly to the young officer who had been
guilty of such an amazing breach of military decorum.

"Marteau, Sire. Jean Marteau, at the Emperor's service," answered the
young soldier nervously, realizing what impropriety he had committed.

"It remains," said the Emperor, looking back at the marshals and their
aides, "for a beardless boy to set an example of devotion in which
Princes and Dukes of the Empire, Marshals of France, heroes of fifty
pitched battles, fail."

"We will die for you, Sire, for France, die with arms in our hands, if
we had them, and on the field of battle," began impetuous Ney.

"If we don't starve first, Sire," said cautious Berthier gloomily.

"Starve!" exclaimed the Emperor.

"The army is without food," said Marmont bluntly.

"It is half naked and freezing," added Victor.

"Ammunition fails us," joined in Oudinot.

"We have no arms," added Mortier.

"Do you, then, advise that we abandon ourselves to the tender mercies
of the allies?" asked Napoleon bitterly.

"Messieurs, it is surely better to die hungry and naked and without
arms for the Emperor than to consent to his dishonor, which is the
dishonor of France," suddenly burst forth the young man at the door.

"How dare you," thundered the usually cool and collected Berthier
angrily, "a mere boy, monsieur, assume to speak in the presence of the
Em