CHAPTER XI

AN EMPEROR AND A GENTLEMAN

"The Emperor!" cried Marteau.

The Russian officer recognized Napoleon as quickly as the other. The

Emperor advanced, the soldiers crowding after threw themselves upon the

renegades immediately, while the Emperor strode forward alone. The

young Russian noble was a quicker witted man than his countrymen

ordinarily were. He saw a chance to end everything then and there, to

do his country a great service, although his life would be forfeited

instantly in the doing of it.

"My chance," he shouted, raising Pierre's pistol.

The shot was an easy one. It was impossible to miss. Marteau had

stepped forward. The thrill in the tones of the man's voice attracted

his attention. One glance and he saw all. He threw himself in front

of the Emperor just as the Russian pressed the trigger. At the same

moment the Countess Laure, who stood nearest him, struck up the

Russian's arm. The bullet buried itself in the ceiling above.

"Thank God!" cried Marteau as the sound died away and he saw the

Emperor standing unharmed.

Napoleon's keen eye had seen everything.

"It is this lady," said he gracefully, "to whom my safety is due. And

I am not unmindful that you interposed your own body between the bullet

and your Emperor."

"Your Majesty," cried Marteau, now that his Emperor was safe, fain to

discharge his duty, "I have tidings of the utmost importance. I have

held this château and detained this convoy the Russians had captured.

It contains powder, food, guns----"

"I know," said the Emperor. "It comes in the nick of time."

"And I have to report, Sire, that the corps of Wittgenstein, Wrede and

of the Field-Marshal Blücher, himself, are strung out at long intervals

to the eastward of Champaubert. They have no idea of your proximity."

"Are the divisions in supporting distance of one another?"

"No, Sire. Olsuvieff's division lies isolated at Champaubert. As to

the divisions of Sacken and Yorck I think----"

"I have already received information concerning them," said the

Emperor, "from your friend, Bullet-Stopper. He should be here."

"I am here, your Majesty," roared the grenadier, stepping forward, "and

saving your Imperial Presence I am glad to see the lad. It was I,"

continued the grenadier, addressing Marteau and presuming on the

familiarity with which Napoleon sometimes treated his men, "that fired

the shot that brought the man down from the window."

"And that shot saved us," said young Marteau. "This young peasant

here----" he bent over Pierre--"he is not dead, Sire, but sorely

wounded--he kept them out up there while we held the room here."

"But these?" asked Napoleon, looking at the prisoners.

"Renegades who had taken advantage of the absence of the Russians

pursuing the escort to the wagon-train to seize the castle."

"Why did you not impress them for the defense thereof?" asked the

Emperor. "They were French undoubtedly----"

"I found them fighting against us."

Rapidly and in few words Marteau told the story of the night, touching

lightly upon his own part, but the Emperor was soldier enough to read

between the words of the narration and reconstruct the scene instantly.

He turned to one of his officers.

"Take those scoundrels out. Put them up against the wall and shoot

them out of hand. They disgrace the name of France. Bid the surgeons

of the command come here to look to the wounded."

"They are past hope, except the French boy, your Majesty," said Yeovil,

who having recovered his own consciousness speedily had been examining

them meanwhile. "I have some skill in wounds. One Cossack is already

dead. It would be a mercy to put that other out of his misery with

that horrible scythe slash."

"The Russian officer?"

"Gone, too."

"And who are you?"

"I am a barrister," answered the Englishman in bad but comprehensible

French.

"A man of the law. You look it not," said the Emperor, smiling faintly.

"Necessity makes us all resort to the sword," said Sir Gervaise,

looking at his bloody blade, for he had fought valiantly with the rest

and would have been killed but he had been knocked senseless with that

billet of wood which had hit him on the head and felled him to the

floor.

"You are, by your language, an Englishman."

"I am, and proud of it."

"The English," said Napoleon slowly, "have been my bitterest enemies."

"Pardon, Sire," said the Russian bluntly, "we children of the white

Czar will dispute that honor with them."

"And you sought to kill me?" said the Emperor, turning upon the other.

"You are a brave man," he added.

"And I would have done so but for----"

"Bah!" interrupted Napoleon contemptuously. "The bullet is not molded

that is destined for me. My career is not to be cut short by the hand

of any young boy who wears the uniform of the Russian guard. Silence,

monsieur! Take him prisoner. See that he be kept under close guard.

When we have taken Olsuvieff's division to-morrow and then Sacken's

there will be many of his comrades to bear him company to Paris. Did

any of the men outside escape?"

"No, Sire," answered General Maurice, entering the room just in time to

hear the question. "The wood around the château was completely filled

with my men. Those we have not killed here we have taken prisoner.

Most of them were shot down as they strove to break through."

"That is well," said the Emperor.

"And the convoy?" asked General Maurice.

"Detach a regiment to escort it back to Sézanne. Let it be distributed

to the regiments and divisions as they arrive."

"And those who have gone on ahead?"

"Their arms, equipment and provisions are in the hands of the

Prussians. We shall march immediately. As for you, mademoiselle, what

is your name?"

"I am the Comtesse Laure d'Aumenier."

"H'm, the daughter of the Comte Robert d'Aumenier, who made his

submission to the Empire and received back his estates, I believe?"

"The same, Sire."

"Where is he?"

"Dead, Sire, these two years."

"And you?"

"I went to my uncle in England."

"To the enemy!" exclaimed Napoleon sharply.

"To the enemy," answered the Countess, looking at him courageously.

"And you came back for what purpose?"

"The estates are to be sold. There were certain papers of which I

alone knew the hiding place. There was no way for me to reach them

save by the courtesy of the Czar Alexander. He sent me to

Field-Marshal Blücher with instructions to provide me with an escort to

this château. 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 _emigré_ 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 loved.

"Allow me a word, Sire," asked the General with that exquisite mixture

of courtesy, deference and resolution which characterized his

intercourse with the Emperor.

"I am always glad to hear from you, my good Maurice," said the Emperor

familiarly. "What have you to say?"

"This young woman is no traitor to you or to France, Sire, however

strange her position."

"How do you make that out?" asked the Emperor, the flickering of a

smile playing about his lips.

"It was her hand that struck up the Russian's pistol so that the bullet

went there," the General of cavalry pointed upward a moment and then

his hand fell until his index finger was trained upon the Emperor's

heart, "instead of there," he added meaningly.

"Very good," said the Emperor graciously. "But had she not struck up

that hand it was in Marteau's heart that the bullet would have lodged,

not in mine, if I remember rightly."

"And if that gives me a claim, Sire, to your consideration----"

"Have I not rewarded you enough," asked the Emperor, "in adding the

official stamp of a patent to the nobility of heart which is already

yours and by giving you the forfeited lands of Aumenier to boot?"

"And I would give them all for the safety of the lady yonder, whose

family mine have served for eight hundred years, with whom I played

when a boy, and be content to follow your Majesty as the simple soldier

I have always been."

"Brave heart and true," said the Emperor, touched. "Mademoiselle, you

cannot go back to Blücher. Within two days his army will be no more.

I will give you a safe conduct. You can remain here for the night.

Couriers will be dispatched to Troyes and to Paris under escort in the

morning. They will take you there. You have friends there, I presume?"

"Many."

"You can remain there or, if opportunity arises, I will give orders to

have you safely conducted so you can go back to England."

"And me, Sire?" growled out Sir Gervaise Yeovil.

The Emperor laughed.

"I am too good a soldier to fight with men of the law," he said. "You

may go with your protégée and share her fortunes."

"I thank your Majesty," said the Englishman, touched in his blunt

nature by this extraordinary magnanimity. "I will report your

consideration to my king and his people and----"

"And say to them that I long for the moment when I can measure swords

with the Duke of Wellington."

"And may that moment come speedily," returned Sir Gervaise.

"As for the rest," said the Emperor, turning away in high good humor,

"Marteau, you have been continuously on service for two days and two

nights and you are wounded----"

"It is nothing."

"Remain here with old Bullet-Stopper, who, true to his name, has had

another touch of the enemy's lead. General Maurice, detail a score of

the weakest of your command, those slightly wounded, to whom a night's

rest would be useful. They shall remain here until the courier stops

for the lady and her English friend, and then under Marteau's command

rejoin me in the morning."

"Very good, Sire," said General Maurice, turning away.

"I thank your Majesty," said Marteau, "for all you have done for me,

and for the Comtesse d'Aumenier."

"And I thank the Emperor also," said the young woman, smiling at him.

"Your Majesty's generosity almost wins me to an imperial allegiance."

Napoleon laughed.

"Not even the Emperor," he said proudly, "is as black as he is painted

by traitors and the English, Mademoiselle!" he bowed abruptly but not

ungracefully. "Come, gentlemen," he said, turning on his heel, "we

must march."

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