The Washington herald., 1911-02-18
CHAPTER XI.
Prena-ffnns

Preparations and CoEitations-
The story itself was brief enough, but
there was plenty OF husk to the grain.
The old expatriate was Querulous, long
winded, not niggard with ink when he
cursed the English and damned the Prus-
slams: and he obtained much qualification
in jabbing his quiIl-bodkin into what he
termed the sniveling nobility Of the old
regime. Dog of dogs! was he not himself
noble? Had not his parents and his
brothers gone to the guillotine with the
rest of them? But he, thank God, had no
wooden mind; he could look progress and
change In the face and follow their bent
And now, all the crimes and heroisms of
the revolution. all the glorious pageantry
of the empire. had come to nothing. A
Bourbon, thick-skulled, sordid- worn-out
again sat upon the throne, while the
Great Man languished on rock in the
Atlantic. Fools that they had been not
to have hidden the little King of Rome
as against this very dog! II was pitifuL
He never saw a shower in June that he
did not hail curses upon it To have lost
Waterloo for a bucketful of water!
Thousand thundersI could he ever forget
that terrible race back to Paris? Could
he ever forget the shame Of it? Grouchy
for a fool and Blucher for a blundering
ass. Eh, bien; they would soon tumble
the Bourbons into oblivion again.
A rambling desultory tale. And there
were "reminiscences of such and such
great lady's salon; the fight from MOSCOW;
the day of the Bastile; the poor fool of a
7 ho raJ
the tricoIor; some new opera dances; the
fight Of his cowardly cousins to Austria;
Austerlitz and Jena; the mad dream in
Egypt; the very day when the Great Man
pulled a crown out OF his saddle-bag and
made himself emperor. Just little cor
poral from Corsica; think of it! And so
on; all jumbled but keyed with tremen-
dous interest to the listeners and to Laura
herself. 1t was the golden age of oppor-
tunity, Of reward, Of sudden generals and
princes and dukes. All gone, nothing left
but a few battle flags; England no longer
shaking in her boots, and the rest of
them dividing the spoils! No! There
were some left, and in their hands lay
the splendid enterprise.
Quietly they had pieced together this
sum and that, till there was now stored
away two million francs. Two or three
frigates and a corvette or two; then the
work would go forward Only a little
while to wait, and then they would bring
their beloved chief back to France and
to his own again. Had he not written
Come for me, mon brave They say
they have orders to shoot me. Come;
better carry my corpse away than that
1 should rot here for years to come"
this hNy
and another; one by one the Old Guard
died off, smaller and smaller had drawn
the circle. The vile rock called St Helena
still remained impregnable. On certain
day they came to tell him that the en-
peror was no more. Soon he was all alone
but one; these brave soldiers who had
planned with him were no more An
alien, an outcast, he too longed for night.
And what should he do with it, this vast
treasure, every franc of which meant
sacrifice and unsellshness, bravery and
loyalty? Let the gold rot He would bury
all knowledge of IL in yonder chimney,
confident that no one void ever find the
treasure, since he alone possessed the key
to it, having buried it himself. So passed
the greatest Caesar Of them all, the most
brilliant empire, the bravest army. Ali
had the king of Rome lived! Had there
been some direct Napoleonic blood to take
QD the WOTh. VAIN oTC1<Io. 1HO GT1c<tl
Mans brothers had been knaves and
fools.
'And so tonight" the narrator ended,
Il bury the casket in the chimney; within
Il, my hopes and few uinkets of the past
Of which am an integral part. Good-by.
little glove; good-by, brave old medal!
I am sending a drawing of the chimney to
the good Able le Fanu. He viii outiive
me- He lives on 40 centinle the day;
treasures mean nothing to him: his cry.
his eternal cry. Is always of the people
he win probably tear It UP. The brig
win never come again. So best Death
win come soon. And shall die unknown,
unloved, forgotten Bonne nuit,''
Mr.. Donovan alone remained in normal
state Of mind Twas all faradiddle. this
ak OF finding treasures. The old French
man had been only half-baked- He
Jumped his tools into his bag, and. with
he wisdom OF his kind, departed. There
would be another Job tomorrow, putting
.he bricks back
The others. however. were for the time |
,ut children. and like children they al