“It’s a shame!” said the count.

It was a shame, I said.

“And now he’s posted into Paris to make a fool of himself.”

“How?”

“Have you seen Madame de Ferrier?”

“No, I have not seen her.”

“I believe we are in time to intercept him.  You have a clever head, boy.  Use it.  How shall we get this old fellow out of the Tuileries without letting him speak to the emperor?”

“Easily, I should think, since Napoleon isn’t here.”

“Yes, he is.  He dashed into Paris a little while ago, and may leave to-night.  But he is here.”

“Why shouldn’t the Marquis de Ferrier speak to Napoleon?”

“Because he is going to make an ass of himself before the court, and what’s worse, he’ll make a laughing-stock of me.”

“How can he do that?”

“He is determined to thank the emperor for restoring his estates.  He might thank the empress, and she wouldn’t know what he was talking about.  But the emperor knows everything.  I have used all the arguments I dared to use against it, but he is a pig for stubbornness.  For my sake, for Madame de Ferrier’s sake, Lazarre, help me to get him harmlessly out of the Tuileries, without making a public scandal about the restitution of the land!”

“What scandal can there be, monsieur?  And why shouldn’t he thank Napoleon for giving him back his estates after the fortunes of revolution and war?”

“Because the emperor didn’t do it.  I bought them!”

“You!”

“Yes, I bought them.  Come to that, they are my property!”

“Madame de Ferrier doesn’t know this?”

“Certainly not.  I meant to settle them on her.  Saints and angels, boy, anybody could see what my intentions were!”

“Then she is as poor as she was in America?”

“Poorer.  She has the Marquis de Ferrier!”

We two who loved her, youth and man, rich and powerful, or poor and fugitive, felt the passionate need of protecting her.

“She wouldn’t accept them if she knew it.”

“Neither would the marquis,” said De Chaumont.  “The Marquis de Ferrier might live on the estates his lifetime without any interference.  But if he will see the emperor, and I can’t prevent it any other way, I shall have to tell him!”

“Yes, you will have to tell him!”

I thought of Eagle in the village, and the old woman who blessed her a quarter of an hour, and Paul standing on the seat to be worshiped.  How could I go to America and leave her?  And what could I do for her when a rich man like De Chaumont was powerless?

“Can’t you see Napoleon,” I suggested, “and ask him to give the marquis a moment’s private audience, and accept his thanks?”

“No!” groaned De Chaumont.  “He wouldn’t do it.  I couldn’t put myself in such a position!”

“If Napoleon came in so hurriedly he may not show himself in the state apartments to-night.”