402 
THE STRAND MAGAZINE . 
(i That does not jcome from the heart / 7 he 
murmured. “ They are like foreign conscripts. 
\ ou should have heard us shout at Lodi .’ 7 
Next Vachoux heard, and Marie-Claire saw, 
the carriage coming down the street. Ihe 
conqueror of Europe was seated at the right ; 
Josephine, the Empress, the woman who was 
always charming and gracious, even after she 
had lost the first flush of her beauty, on his 
left. 
The carriage halted before the Hotel de 
France. 
The Prefet advanced, Madame presented 
her bouquet, Josephine smiled at the great 
round of blossoms as if she had never seen a 
rose or a pink before, the Colonel’s wife wars 
quite sure that the Imperial eyes lingered on 
Her cashmere shawl, the children began to 
sing in their shrill, shaky voices. 
Only the Emperor looked about him 
impatiently. It w r as for Josephine to receive 
compliments and to listen to children. He, 
Napoleon, wished to get to more important 
business. 
His opinion of the cheering was exactly 
that of Vachoux’s. He knew it was perfunc- 
tory, paid for. Yet this Basque population 
was as hardy as any in France, and none 
would make better soldiers. The Emperor 
had already formed his plans for Spain, and 
he knew if he wanted to possess the Peninsula 
he must fight for it. He could not spare a 
squadron from Italy, from Germany, from 
the Low Countries. He must depend on new 
levies, and the new' levies came in grudgingly 
and showed no elan wdien they were with the 
colours. 
His Majesty, with a summer morning to 
spare, resolved to use it in stirring up that 
personal affection which had sent men by 
thousands to die for him. He knew' the way 
— until the very end of his career, when the 
cloud of arrogance came down and blinded 
him - he could always stir the soldier. 
Now he turned about, with Monsieur le 
Prefet still stammering through his speech, 
and, summoning the Colonel, abruptly asked 
him if there were no veterans in St. Jean 
Pied de Port, and, if so, why none of his 
old comrades had come to welcome him. 
The voice, which never spoke, as long as it 
was to be heard in France, without riveting 
attention, abruptly ended the singing, and 
broke off Monsieur le Pr Jet’s laboured 
platitudes with a jerk. 
The Colonel stepped forward. 
“ Your Majesty,” he said, “ we have the 
Lieutenant Vachoux in St. Jean.” 
Vachoux,” repeated the Emperor, whose 
memory for his soldiers and their names was 
marvellous, “of the 9 th Foot — wounded at 
Austerlitz ? ” 
“ No, your Majesty/’ answered the Colonel. 
“ Vachoux, a sergeant, wounded at Lodi. 
Blind, unable to walk. Your Majesty 
honoured him with a special pension and the 
grade of lieutenant.” 
Napoleon frowned. “ Vachoux 1 ” he re- 
peated. “ Vachoux ! ” Then he rapped out a 
command. “ Bring this man to me,” he said. 
“ He cannot walk, your Majesty.” 
“ Then take me to him . 77 
“ His house is before your Majesty, over the 
way,” the Colonel answered. 
Napoleon set off at once. The crowd 
opened to let the little figure pass. Quickly 
as he stepped out, the news preceded him. 
“ The Emperor was going, himself to pay 
the Lieutenant Vachoux a visit.” 
The veteran heard it as he sat by the open 
window. 
u Marie-Claire ! 77 he called. “ Marie-Claire, 
they say — they say Flis Majesty comes ! ” 
The blind man’s adopted niece heard. 
She hurried up to the old soldier, she looked 
out past him. She saw the one man who 
walked first, the others who followed him. 
She put up her two hands against her breast, 
pressed them against her dimity gown — it 
was of dimity, not of muslin from the Indies — 
the colour faded from her face. 
“ Speak, girl 1 77 demanded Vachoux. “You 
can see ? Is anyone coming ? Does the 
Emperor come ? 77 
“ Yes,” returned Marie-Claire, very slowly. 
“ I see the Colonel ” 
<£ Never previously has that one had time 
to come and pass the time of day with the 
crippled Vachoux,” ejaculated the blind man. 
“ But he can make him a visit now.” 
“ The Emperor 77 Marie-Claire went on. 
“Yes, child, yes ! ” gasped out Vachoux. 
“ He walks the first . 77 
The veteran drew himself up from the 
waist, he fingered his medals, put his hand 
down to his side. 
“ If I had foreseen this , 77 he murmured, 1 
would not have lent my sword, not even for 
the Empress herself . 77 
Marie-Claire sat down suddenly. She went 
so white that, alone in the little room, with no 
one to help her, she seemed about to faint. 
The tries of “ Vive VEmperenr ! ” duly 
began again, the children, not to be done out 
of a single verse of the hymn they had learned 
so laboriously, started where they had left 
off before. Napoleon heard, frowned. He 
wheeled round, looked at the crowd. 
