404 
THE STRAND MAGAZINE . 
ic Mon vieux ” he was beginning. 
His glance fell on the helpless figure. 
He pulled up short. “ Sapristi ! ” he 
muttered. He thrust out his hand, and with 
it seemed to call the attention of those about 
him to an unexpected point of peculiar 
importance. The Staff looked at each other, 
the Colonel in command opened his mouth as 
if he were about to speak ; but the Emperor 
silenced him with a peremptory gesture. 
Your name ? ” he demanded of the 
veteran. 
The blind man gave it. 
“ Your grade ? ” 
Lieutenant/’ answered Vachoux, ££ pro- 
moted by your Majesty’s especial favour 
when your Majesty deigned to reply to the 
petition addressed to you.” 
“ Through whom ? ” 
“ Marie-Claire, my adopted niece, old 
Sergeant Bosset’s daughter, wrote for me. 
Mon Central, your Majesty,” answered 
Vachoux, u I sent it straight to you. That 
is why your Majesty received it and answered 
it. I had not to wait. I knew I should not 
if your Majesty but knew that old Baptiste 
Vachoux was in want.” 
The Emperor raised his eyes. He looked 
a toss the room to where, by the whitewashed 
wall, leaned Marie-Claire. He looked at her 
long ; he looked at her fixedly. Her great 
eyes were on him. They were widely open, 
they had an appealing look in them. She was 
breathing so fast that the frill of the muslin 
fichu about her neck rose and fell. Napoleon 
smiled slowly. He thrust one hand between 
the buttons of his coat ; he turned back to 
the blind man. 
“ And the uniform you wear, mon vieux ? ” 
he asked him. 
Vachoux explained ; told how it was the 
first time on, how it had been sent for all the 
way to Bayonne when His Majesty granted 
Baptiste Vachoux his step. 
The Staff looked at each other again ; the 
Colonel shot a glance at his Major, and the 
Major, who had a kind heart, smiled pityingly. 
“ And this ? ” went on the greatest man in 
Europe, as he touched the braiding. 
“ My gold lace ; the lace of a lieutenant. 
I can feel it, bien sur , if I cannot see,” 
answered Vachoux. 
Napoleon looked, not at the group of 
wondering men about him, but to Marie- 
Claire beyond. 
“ The gold lace on the lieutenant’s 
uniform,” lie said to her — and the words came 
out slowly, for the braiding was of black, of 
coarse mohair — “ and,” went on the Emperor, 
t£ the uniform of a lieutenant, the new 
uniform worn to-day for the first time ” 
for the blind man’s tunic was stained, it was 
faded, it was darned in a long line all down 
from the breast to the w r aist. 
Marie-Claire folded her arms, stood upright, 
without support. She seemed to be waiting 
for her sentence, as the women of the old 
regime had waited for the mob to do them to 
death, and there was the same courageous 
acceptance of what might be to come with 
her as had been with them. 
“ And your adopted niece,” continued 
Napoleon, addressing the veteran again. 
“ Marie-Claire,” quavered the old man. 
“ A good girl, your Majesty. I gave her the 
muslin she wears to-day because your 
Majesty is here.” 
“ The muslin ? ” repeated Napoleon. 
“ Bien sur , mon General , your Majesty,” 
answered Vachoux, “th & mousseline des Indes. 
When your Majesty honoured Baptiste 
Vachoux with a commission, his niece must 
dress as a lieutenant’s niece should. Marie- 
Claire wears the dress to-day. A mousseline 
des Indes . I gave her my first quarter’s 
pension that she might buy it.” 
Napoleon looked across the little room 
again. 
“ You wear muslin, mademoiselle,” he 
commented, very dryly. “ The Empress has 
a partiality for muslins. Perhaps she would 
like to see yours. Would you,” and the 
monarch dropped out the words one by one, 
“ care to show it to her ? ” 
Marie-Claire curtsied again, and for the 
second time Napoleon marked the grace of 
the reverence. 
I am in His Majesty’s hands. I await 
his commands,” she answered, an emphasis, 
a meaning, in her tone also. 
Napoleon grunted. He pushed through 
the soldiers about him, assured his Staff that 
they never were of any use and always in the 
way ; he strode across the flagged floor, he 
pulled up close to Marie-Claire, and stood 
scowling at her. The Emperor put out his 
hand, caught her gown, a :d held it out 
between his thumb and finger. 
“ This, mademoiselle,” he commented, “ is 
mousseline des Indes, muslin suitable for the 
niece of a lieutenant ? Suitable, je vous le 
dis, for the niece of a lieutenant ? ” 
“ No, your Majesty,” returned Marie- 
Claire, “ it is not muslin. It is dimity.” 
“ Then jerked out the little man 
before her. 
Marie Claire looked straight at the stern 
face, at the piercing eves. 
