him as
such."

His look bent upon the crowd, as Napoleon's might have done on the Third
Corps.

"Drummer, call the army to attention," fell the words.

And again like a small whirlwind of hailstones the sticks shook on the
drum.

"I advance Captain Lagroin to the rank of Colonel in my Household
Troops, and I command you to obey him as such."

And once more: "Drummer, call the army to attention."

The sticks swung down, but somehow they faltered, for the drummer was
shaking now.

"I advance Colonel Lagroin to the rank of General in my Household
Troops, and I command you to obey him as such."

Then he beckoned, and the old man drew near. Stooping, he pinned the
order upon his breast. When the sergeant saw what it was, he turned
pale, trembled, and the drumsticks fell from his hand. His eyes shone
like sun on wet glass, then tears sprang from them upon his face. He
caught Valmond's hand and kissed it, and cried, oblivious of them all:

"Ah, sire, sire! It is true. It is true. I know that ribbon, and I know
you are a Napoleon. Sire, I love you, and I will die for you!"

For the first time that day a touch of the fantastic came into Valmond's
manner.

"General," he said, "the centuries look down on us as they looked down
on him, your sire--and mine!"

He doffed his hat, and the hats of all likewise came off in a strange
quiet. A cheer followed, and Valmond motioned for wine to go round
freely. Then he got off his horse, and, taking the weeping old man by
the arm, himself loosening the drum from his belt, they passed into the
hotel.

"A cheerful bit of foolery and treason," said Monsieur De la Riviere to
Madame Chalice.

"My dear Seigneur, if you only had more humour and less patriotism!" she
answered. "Treason may have its virtues. It certainly is interesting,
which, in your present gloomy state, you are not."

"I wonder, madame, that you can countenance this imposture," he broke
out.

"Excellent and superior monsieur, I wonder sometimes that I can
countenance you. Breakfast with me on Sunday, and perhaps I will tell
you why--at twelve o'clock."

She drove on, but, meeting the Cure, stopped her carriage.

"Why so grave, my dear Cure?" she asked, holding out her hand.

He fingered the gold cross upon his breast--she had given it to him two
years before.

"I am going to counsel him--Monsieur Valmond," he said. Then, with a
sigh: "He sent me two hundred dollars for the altar to-day, and fifty
dolla