illumined his face, and he raised his arm with a threatening gesture, as if, like a second Jupiter, to hurl back into the depths the Titans who dared to rise to his throne.

"To appoint a successor," he muttered in a fierce, threatening tone, "they dare to think, to busy themselves with that. The ingrates! It is I who gave them fame, honor, titles, wealth; they are already cogitating about my death—my successor! It is a conspiracy which extends throughout the whole army. I know it. I was warned in Spain against the plots of the Carbonari, and the caution has been repeated here. And I must keep silence. I cannot punish the traitors, for that would consign the majority of my generals to the ax of the executioner. But I will give them all a warning example. I will intimidate them, let them have an intimation that I am aware of their treacherous plans."

He sank down into the armchair which stood before his writing-desk, took a pen-knife and began to mark and cut the arm of the chair with as much zeal and perseverance as if the object in view was to accomplish some useful and urgent task. Then, when the floor was covered with tiny chips, and the black, delicately carved wood of the old-fashioned armchair was marked with white streaks and spots, the emperor hurled the knife down and rose hastily from his seat.

"This Colonel Oudet must die," he said, each word falling slowly and impressively from his lips. "I cannot crush all the limbs, but I will make the head fall, and that will paralyze them. Yes, this Colonel Oudet must die!"

Then, as if the sentence of death which he had just uttered had relieved his soul of an oppressive burden, and lightened his heart, the gloomy expression vanished from his face, which was now almost brightened by a ray of joy.

Seizing the silver hand-bell, he rang it violently twice. Instantly the door leading into his sleeping-room opened and Roustan, gliding in, stood humbly and silently awaiting the emperor's orders.

Napoleon, with a slight nod, beckoned to him to approach, and when Roustan, like a tiger-cat, noiselessly reached his side with two swift bounds, the emperor gazed with a long, searching look into the crafty, smiling face of his Mameluke.

"So you listened to the conversation between the generals?" asked the emperor.

"I don't know, sire," said Roustan, shaking his head eagerly. "I probably did not understand everything, for they spoke in low tones, and sometimes I lost the connection. But I heard them talking about my illustrious emperor and master, so, as your majesty meanwhile had awaked, I thought it advisable to inform you that the generals were having a conversation in the drawing-room, because your majesty might perhaps desire to take part in it."

"You did right, Roustan," said the emperor, with the pleasant smile that won every heart; "yes, you did right, and I will reward you for it. You can go to Bourrienne and have him pay you a hundred gold pieces."

"Oh, sire," cried Roustan, "then I shall be very happy, for I shall have a hundred portraits of my worshiped emperor."

"Which you will doubtless scatter to the four winds quickly enough, you spendthrift," exclaimed Napoleon. "But listen, you rogue: besides my hundred gold portraits, I'll give you a bit of advice which is worth more than the gold coins. Forget everything that you have heard to-day, beware of treasuring in your memory even a single word of the generals, or recollecting that you have called my attention to it."

"Sire," replied Roustan, with an expression of astonishment, "Sire, I really do not know what your majesty is talking about, and what I could have said or heard. I only know that my gracious emperor and master has given me a hundred gold napoleons, and present happiness has so overpowered me, so bewildered my senses that I have lost my memory."

The emperor laughed, and as a special proof of his favor pinched the Mameluke's ear so hard that the latter with difficulty concealed his suffering under a smile of delight.

CHAPTER II.

LEONORE DE SIMONIE.

Napoleon's word was fulfilled! Scarcely two months had passed when he avenged the battle of Aspern on Austria, and twined fresh laurels of victory around his brow. On the 6th of July a conflict occurred which completed Austria's misfortunes and wrested from her all the advantages which the victory of Aspern had scarcely won.

The fight of Wagram gave Austria completely into the hands of the victor, made Napoleon again master of the German empire, compelled the Emperor Francis and his whole family to seek refuge in Hungary, and yielded Vienna and its environs to the conqueror's will. The French imperial army, amid the clash of military music, again entered Vienna, whose inhabitants were forced to bow their heads to necessity in gloomy silence, and submit to receiving and entertaining their victorious foes as guests in their homes. The Emperor Napoleon selected Schönbrunn for his residence, and seemed inclined to rest comfortably there after the fresh victory won at Wagram. It had indeed been a victory, but it had cost great and bloody sacrifices. Thrice a hundred thousand men had confronted each other on this memorable 6th of July, 1809; eight hundred cannon had shaken the earth all day incessantly with their terrible thunder, and the course of their balls was marked on both sides with heaps of corpses. Both armies had fought with tremendous fury and animosity, for the Austrians wished to add fresh laurels to the fame just won at Aspern, the French to regain what the days of Esslingen at least rendered doubtful: the infallibility of success, the conviction that victory would ever be associated with their banners.

It was the fury of the conflict which made the victory uncertain. The Austrians showed themselves heroes on the day of Wagram, and for a long time it seemed as if victory would fall to them. But Napoleon, who seemed to be indefatigable and tireless, who all day long did not leave his horse, directing and planning everything himself, perceived in time the danger of his troops and brought speedy and effective reinforcements to the already yielding left wing of the army. But more than twenty thousand men on both sides had fallen victims on this terrible field. Though Napoleon, in his bulletins of victory, exultingly announced to the world another magnificent triumph, France did not join enthusiastically as usual in the rejoicing of the commander-in-chief, for she had been obliged to pay for the new laurels with the corpses of too many thousands of her sons, and the pæans of victory were drowned by the sighs and lamentations of so many thousand orphaned children, widowed wives, and betrothed maidens.

Napoleon seemed to pay little heed to this; he was enjoying at Schönbrunn his victory and his triumph; he gathered his brilliant staff around him, gave superb entertainments, and by parades and reviews lured the Viennese to Schönbrunn to witness the brilliant spectacle.

In Vienna, also, the conquerors arranged magnificent festivals, seeking to win the favor of the conquered people by the amusements offered them. The French governor-general of Vienna, Count Andreossy, zealously endeavored to collect around him the remains of the Austrian aristocracy, attract the society of the capital by elegant dinners, balls, and receptions, and since the armistice of Znaim, which occurred soon after the battle of Wagram had put an end to hostilities the Viennese appeared disposed to accept the truce and attend the brilliant entertainments and pleasant amusements offered by Count Andreossy.

The latter was not the only person who opened his drawing-rooms to the Viennese; others soon followed; fashionable Parisian society seemed for the time to have transferred its gay circle from