The eldest, a soldier of 1792, severely wounded in the attack on the lines at Wissembourg, adored the Emperor Napoleon and everything that had to do with the Grande Armee.  Andre and Johann spoke with respect of Commissary Hulot, the Emperor’s protege, to whom indeed they owed their prosperity; for Hulot d’Ervy, finding them intelligent and honest, had taken them from the army provision wagons to place them in charge of a government contract needing despatch.  The brothers Fischer had done further service during the campaign of 1804.  At the peace Hulot had secured for them the contract for forage from Alsace, not knowing that he would presently be sent to Strasbourg to prepare for the campaign of 1806.

This marriage was like an Assumption to the young peasant girl.  The beautiful Adeline was translated at once from the mire of her village to the paradise of the Imperial Court; for the contractor, one of the most conscientious and hard-working of the Commissariat staff, was made a Baron, obtained a place near the Emperor, and was attached to the Imperial Guard.  The handsome rustic bravely set to work to educate herself for love of her husband, for she was simply crazy about him; and, indeed, the Commissariat office was as a man a perfect match for Adeline as a woman.  He was one of the picked corps of fine men.  Tall, well-built, fair, with beautiful blue eyes full of irresistible fire and life, his elegant appearance made him remarkable by the side of d’Orsay, Forbin, Ouvrard; in short, in the battalion of fine men that surrounded the Emperor.  A conquering “buck,” and holding the ideas of the Directoire with regard to women, his career of gallantry was interrupted for some long time by his conjugal affection.

To Adeline the Baron was from the first a sort of god who could do no wrong.  To him she owed everything:  fortune—­she had a carriage, a fine house, every luxury of the day; happiness—­he was devoted to her in the face of the world; a title, for she was a Baroness; fame, for she was spoken of as the beautiful Madame Hulot—­and in Paris!  Finally, she had the honor of refusing the Emperor’s advances, for Napoleon made her a present of a diamond necklace, and always remembered her, asking now and again, “And is the beautiful Madame Hulot still a model of virtue?” in the tone of a man who might have taken his revenge on one who should have triumphed where he had failed.

So it needs no great intuition to discern what were the motives in a simple, guileless, and noble soul for the fanaticism of Madame Hulot’s love.  Having fully persuaded herself that her husband could do her no wrong, she made herself in the depths of her heart the humble, abject, and blindfold slave of the man who had made her.  It must be noted, too, that she was gifted with great good sense—­the good sense of the people, which made her education sound.  In society she spoke little, and never spoke evil of any one; she did not try to shine; she thought out many things, listened well, and formed herself on the model of the best-conducted women of good birth.