“But while determining to free France from the ambitious conqueror who is leading her to destruction,” said Colonel Oudet, “we must consider what is to be done when the great work is accomplished, when the tyrant is removed.  It is evident to you all that the present condition of affairs ought not to last.  France now depends upon a single life; a single person forms her dynasty, and when he sinks into the grave, France will be exposed to caprice, to chance; every door to intrigue will be opened.  We must secure France from every peril.  We have now seen, for the first time, that the proud emperor is only a mere mortal.  Had the bullet which wounded his foot at Regensburg struck his head, France would probably be, at the present moment, in the midst of civil war, and the Legitimists, the Republicans, and the adherents of Napoleon would dispute the victory with each other.  We must try to avert the most terrible of all misfortunes, civil war; the emperor is not merely mortal; we do not merely have to consider his death, but we must also know what is to happen in case our plan succeeds and he is placed in captivity.  We must have ready the successor, the successor who will at once render the Republic and the return of the Bourbons alike impossible.  Do any of you know a successor thus qualified?”

“I know one,” replied General Marmont.

“And I!  And I!  And I!”

“General Marmont,” said Oudet, “you spoke first.  Will you tell us the name of the person who seems to you worthy to be Napoleon’s successor?”

“I do not venture to speak until the head of the Carbonari has named the man whom he has chosen.”

“Then you did not hear me request you to speak,” said Oudet, in a tone of stern rebuke.  “Speak, Marmont, but it will be better to exercise caution and not let the walls themselves hear what we determine.  So form a circle around me, and let one after another put his lips to my ear and whisper the name of him who should be Napoleon’s successor.”

Marshals and generals obeyed the command and formed a close circle around Oudet, whose tall, slender figure towered above them all, and whose handsome pale face, with its enthusiastic blue eyes, formed a strange contrast to the grave, defiant countenances which encircled him.

“Marmont, do you begin!” said Oudet, in his gentle, solemn tones.

The general bent close to Oudet and whispered something into his ear, then he stepped back and made way for another, who was followed by a third, and a fourth.

“My brothers,” said Oudet, after all had spoken, “my brothers, I see with pleasure that the same spirit, the same conviction rules among you.  You have all uttered the same name; you have all said that Eugene Beauharnais, the Viceroy of Italy, would be the fitting and desired successor of Napoleon.  I rejoice in this unanimity, and, in my position as one of the heads of the great society, I give your choice my approval.  The invisible ones—­the