THE ROMANCE
 
 THE ROMANCE OF L'AIGLON 
 
 , OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES
 
 THE ROMANCE 
 
 OF 
 
 L'Aiglon 
 
 AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION 
 From the French of 
 
 CAROLUS 
 
 By 
 
 J. PAUL WILSON 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 BRENTANO'S 
 MCMI
 
 Copyright, 1900, by 
 BRENTANO'S
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. L'AlGLON ...... I 
 
 II. VIOLETS 7 
 
 III. METTERNICH . . . . .15 
 
 IV. THE LETTER 21 
 
 V. COUNT OTTO 25 
 
 VI. NEWS FROM PARIS .... 29 
 
 VII. THE SPY . . . ' . . , . 33 
 
 VIII. IN THE GROVE .... 43 
 
 IX. AT THE BALL 51 
 
 X. COLETTE ...... 58 
 
 XI. CAMALDULES . . __. ._.___ _ ^ 63 
 
 XII. A LESSON ... . . 71 
 
 XIII. A LAST INTERVIEW . . -79 
 
 XIV. THE ROAD TO THE THRONE . . 83 
 XV. THE PUNISHMENT . . -87 
 
 2128601
 
 v i Contents 
 
 PAGE 
 CHAPTER 
 
 XVI. LOVE . . - 
 
 XVII. SILVERS 
 
 XVIII. WITH THE EMPEROR . ".- IT 3 
 XIX. LA SAN-SEVERINA . 
 XX. THE TEMPTER . . . 129 
 
 XXI. FAILURE 
 XXII. THE VISION . . . 14?
 
 THE ROMANCE OF L'AIGLON
 
 THE ROMANCE OF L'AIGLON 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 L'AIGLON 
 
 THE revolution of July has just 
 taken place. The Bourbon dy- 
 nasty, restored at the cost of a great deal 
 of effort by the sovereigns of the Holy 
 Alliance, has just disappeared, followed 
 by the rage of the populace. 
 
 Let us enter the old chateau of Schon- 
 brunn, the imperial residence of the 
 Austro-Hungarian monarchy. 
 
 In a lofty apartment overlooking the 
 terraces and gardens of the palace, be- 
 neath that famous platform, La Glori- 
 ette, where, on clear days, one can see
 
 2 L'Aiglon 
 
 the spires of St. Jitienne, the cathedral 
 of Vienna, a young man is reading by 
 the light of a desk-lamp. The great cha- 
 teau clock has just sounded the hour of 
 midnight. The night is brilliant with 
 stars; and through the open window 
 comes the call of the sentinels, such a 
 proceeding serving an excellent purpose 
 in keeping them awake. 
 
 The young man, who is tall, very pale, 
 and very slender, raises his head in an 
 abstracted manner. He is dressed in the 
 Austrian uniform, and his brow, grave 
 and sad, seems to indicate noble but bit- 
 ter thoughts. With feverish hands he 
 turns over a pile of parchments before 
 him, and the further he reads the more 
 does his countenance contract and his 
 face darken. 
 
 " Marengo ! Wagram ! Austerlitz ! " 
 he murmurs in a low voice ; " Water- 
 loo ! " and his head drops. A hot tear 
 springs to his eye. At every vibration 
 of the clock he trembles visibly, as if his
 
 L'Aiglon 3 
 
 heart were too 'big for his body and were 
 going to burst as if, despite his youth, 
 he had no more illusions and only waited 
 for death to free him from his troubles. 
 
 Meanwhile the voices of the sentinels 
 continue to break in upon him, and seem 
 to make a dismal appeal to him in the 
 silence of the night. 
 
 Marengo, Wagram, Austerlitz ! What 
 has he to do with those sinister names? 
 He is too young to have been present at 
 any of those butcheries. His delicate 
 hand apparently could not support the 
 sword, the handle of which, inlaid with 
 precious stones, glitters in one corner of 
 the room at the head of his bed. 
 
 He continues his reading. 
 
 Rapidly he casts the pages he has fin- 
 ished on the carpet of his room. But the 
 cold night air interrupts him ere long. 
 He rises, trembling, and appears before 
 us clearly. 
 
 Who is this youth who dreams of bat-i 
 ties, and weeps as he reads the story
 
 4 L'Aiglon 
 
 of Waterloo? An Austrian officer, as 
 his uniform would proclaim? An aide- 
 de-camp in attendance upon Francis I., 
 the head of the Austrian dynasty ? 
 
 No. 
 
 One lovely morning in the year 1811 
 the Paris populace came swarming out 
 on the streets and public squares like an 
 immense river that has burst beyond its 
 banks. On the face of each individual 
 was an expression of joy mingled with 
 anxiety. In the Tuileries a group of 
 physicians surrounded Marie Louise 
 awaiting her deliverance. A little while 
 afterwards the cannon's voice at the In- 
 valides announced to France and to the 
 world that an heir was born to the soldier 
 whom fortune had crowned Caesar. He 
 who was called the King of Rome had 
 just been ushered into the world. 
 
 The young king's infancy was much 
 like that of the other mortals called by 
 destiny to rule over nations. His mother, 
 however, had a narrow, contracted char-
 
 L'Aiglon 5 
 
 acter, which was not improved by the 
 rigid restrictions of the etiquette which 
 obtains at the Austrian court. He rarely 
 saw the man-god whom he tremblingly 
 called " father." 
 
 Then came the evil days lost battles, 
 exile, and the bitter thought ever present 
 in his mind that he could not give the 
 small boon of a kiss to the dying Prome- 
 theus. But fate decreed that he should 
 have a chance still fo make his name 
 known to mankind. 
 
 The Eagle, galled by his thongs 
 nailed, as it were, to the arid rocks of a 
 southern solitude had spent his last 
 days hoping great things for his son, 
 whom he was never to see again. 
 
 Like a sorry bird that a puff of wind 
 has blown from its nest, and that a la- 
 borer picks up and gives to his chil- 
 dren for a plaything, the Eaglet fell to 
 earth when the Eagle was borne away, 
 and went to hide his griefs and nurse his 
 aspirations in the chateau of Schon-
 
 6 L'Aiglon 
 
 brunn. Here he spent many long, weary, 
 monotonous days in the company of 
 Francis I., his grandfather, and the 
 wary Prince de Metternich. 
 
 It is the Aiglon the Eaglet whom 
 we have just seen dressed in an Austrian 
 uniform, running eagerly through the 
 Bulletins of the Grand Armee, trem- 
 bling at the spectacle of his father's vic- 
 tories and shedding a tear at the recol- 
 lection of Waterloo.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 VIOLETS 
 
 ON the morning following the day 
 when we saw the son of Napoleon 
 (to whom his grandfather had given the 
 title of Due de Reichstadt) reading the 
 Bulletins, the young man entered the 
 gardens and, rapidly crossing the marble 
 terraces and the parterres of flowers kept 
 in order by an army of mercenaries, 
 gained that part of the park where stood 
 the cheerful cottage of the chief gardener. 
 In this modest lodge, surrounded with 
 flowers, lived an old man, a former sol- 
 dier of the imperial wars one of the 
 survivors of that heroic phalanx which 
 died but did not surrender. Old Silvere, 
 as his name was, lived there in modest 
 style by means of the pension he received
 
 8 L'Aiglon 
 
 as a former sergeant of the Guard and 
 his earnings as chief gardener of the 
 castle. A waif, picked up one Palm Sun- 
 day by a flower-girl at the door of the 
 Church of St. Sulpice, he had been 
 brought up on the Paris pavement ; and, 
 upon the death of his mother by adop- 
 tion, without relations or friends, he set 
 out to join the army ; and made the tour 
 of Europe to the sound of the drum, 
 receiving many blows and returning 
 them with interest. 
 
 The Emperor, who admired brave 
 men, had particularly noticed him ; and 
 when the young King of Rome took his 
 daily airing on the terrace of the Tuileries 
 the courtiers were not a little surprised 
 to see, in the midst of the swarm of dames 
 d'honneur who followed his carriage, a 
 sergeant of Grenadiers tightly laced in 
 fcis tunic and on whose breast glittered 
 the star of the brave. It was Silvere, 
 whom the interest of the Emperor had 
 attached to the person of his son; and
 
 Violets 9 
 
 the presence of this simple warrior, in the 
 midst of the splendid uniforms and grace- 
 ful feminine toilets, seemed to typify 
 something for the child of that blind, 
 passionate tenderness that the whole 
 army had bestowed on his father. The 
 devotion of this humble creature had 
 survived even misfortune; and while the 
 generals, smothered with honors and fa- 
 vors and gorged with riches, hastened to 
 forget the name of the man who had 
 raised them from nothing, in order 
 that they might make their peace with 
 the new authorities, the old soldier re- 
 mained in the service of his young mas- 
 ter, and succeeded, by the help of the lat- 
 ter, in spite of innumerable difficulties 
 and the opposition of Metternich, in 
 being promoted to the office of chief gar- 
 dener of the park of Schonbrunn. 
 
 When the young duke reached the 
 light grating which separated from the 
 road the little garden where Silvere lov- 
 ingly tended his roses, he was surprised
 
 jo L'Aiglon 
 
 to descry his old servitor promenading 
 up and down the walks of his little do- 
 main in the company of a ravishingly 
 beautiful young girl, whose features, up 
 to that time, he had never observed. 
 
 Dark, slender, graceful, of an ideal 
 beauty, and with a bearing full of grace 
 and modesty, the stranger, as she walked, 
 stooped down toward the flowers and 
 seemed to inhale their perfume with de- 
 light. 
 
 At the sight of the prince, a vivid 
 blush, which suffused her cheeks and 
 even her neck, made her more enchant- 
 ing still. 
 
 " Monseigneur," said Silvere, uncov- 
 ering his gray head, " will your Highness 
 allow me to present to you Colette, my 
 daughter by adoption ? Her school-days 
 are over, and she has come here late in 
 the evening of my life to bring a little 
 sunshine into my solitary abode. She 
 is a child of one of my brothers-in-arms, 
 who fell at my side, and I have tried to
 
 Violets 1 1 
 
 fulfil the duties of a father toward her. 
 The Emperor, appreciating the services 
 of a brave soldier, permitted Colette to 
 attend the academy at St. Denis. The 
 young student," he continued with a kind 
 smile, " did great credit to her instruc- 
 tors, and the ladies there, not being able 
 to teach her anything more, wished to 
 find a husband for her ; but the dear child 
 remembered the old soldier who had so 
 often rocked her to sleep in those far-off 
 days, and, learning of my loneliness in my 
 voluntary exile, flew to me at once to 
 console and comfort my declining years." 
 
 The prince bowed respectfully to this 
 young girl, whose devotion surrounded 
 her with a new aureole. 
 
 " So you come from France, Made- 
 moiselle," said he, with a sigh. " From 
 France from Paris, perhaps, where I 
 was born. You are a fortunate being 
 you may one day return thither. You 
 are destined to breathe again the air of 
 that dear land, to hear its language ; alas !
 
 12 L'Aiglon 
 
 those are things denied to poor exiles, 
 and, above all, denied to me. You doubt- 
 less admire these roses ; they are pos- 
 sessed of a beauty comparable to your 
 own. As I came I saw you hovering 
 lovingly over them, drinking in their per- 
 fume. Eh bien! As for me, I hate them 
 they belong to a foreign country. 
 There is nothing of interest to me here. 
 I care for nothing neither the people 
 nor anything else. But there ! how un- 
 grateful I am. I make an exception in 
 favor of this devoted old man, who has 
 never quitted me since I lay in my 
 cradle," and he offered his hand to the 
 old servant, who took it and kissed it 
 respectfully. 
 
 Tears came into the young man's eyes, 
 and his face, which was melancholy be- 
 fore, became darker than ever. 
 
 Colette advanced nearer toward him, 
 and, opening her corsage modestly, drew 
 out a letter and a small bunch of violets. 
 The latter still sent forth a delicate per-
 
 Violets 13 
 
 fume, though the flowers were already 
 dry and faded. 
 
 " Monseigneur," said she, bending low 
 before him, " will your Imperial High- 
 ness permit an humble dependent to 
 offer you these flowers? On the eve of 
 my departure from my country from 
 that Paris of which you spoke just now 
 I went to make my adieus to the devoted 
 women who had watched so faithfully 
 over my young life and had taken 
 the place of the mother that I lost 
 early. The principal left me for a mo- 
 ment to gather some flowers in the 
 parterres of St. Denis, and, knowing 
 well where I was going, she gave me 
 these, and with them this letter, saying: 
 ' These are for an exile. When you see 
 him give them to him, and say from me 
 that he is not forgotten, and that these 
 flowers of France and this letter are a 
 witness of the homage of his fellow- 
 countrymen who have never forgotten 
 him.' "
 
 14 L'Aiglon 
 
 Silvere here brusquely broke off the 
 interview, for, in spite of his age, his eyes 
 were still sharp enough to see that Prince 
 Metternich was intently looking at them 
 from one of the windows of the chateau, 
 and seemed not to have missed a single 
 detail of the scene which had just taken 
 place.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 METTERNICH 
 
 OLD Silvere acted wisely in inter- 
 rupting a conversation which was 
 becoming dangerous both to his master 
 and his young ward. 
 
 In that vast, luxurious residence where 
 legions of valets were coming and going 
 all day and night, where the windows had 
 eyes and the walls ears, he knew that he 
 was hardly tolerated, that he was being 
 watched every minute, for his devotion 
 to the young prince was a matter of com- 
 mon knowledge. He knew well that 
 every one in the empire from the high- 
 est to the lowest in rank, from the Chan- 
 cellor of the Empire down to the lowest 
 scullion in the State kitchen was his 
 enemy. The most insignificant of his 
 actions was likely to be misinterpreted.
 
 1 6 L'Aiglon 
 
 He had learned by bitter experience that 
 the slumbering hostility entertained for 
 him needed only a specious pretext to 
 break forth into open warfare, which 
 would have the effect of separating him 
 from the young master of whom he had 
 charge, and whom he had sworn never to 
 abandon. 
 
 Poor Silvere! What would he have 
 thought if he had been able to accompany 
 us into the luxurious apartment of Met- 
 ternich and observe what measures that 
 wily diplomat was taking. Metternich, 
 after closing the window, returned to his 
 desk, and, sitting down opposite his sec- 
 retary, resumed his former occupation of 
 tearing open the voluminous correspon- 
 dence which had arrived from all the 
 capitals of Europe. 
 
 Crouching like an immense spider in 
 the midst of Europe's diplomatic web, 
 loaded with riches and honors, the pos- 
 sessor of the Grand Croix of all the 
 orders of Europe, His Excellency Clem-
 
 Metternich 17 
 
 ens Wenzel Nepomuk Lothar, Prince of 
 Metternich-Winneburg, Minister of State 
 and Grand Chancellor of the Austro- 
 Hungarian monarchy, saw the tranquil- 
 lity of his day's and night's rest troubled 
 every moment the spectre of Napoleon 
 filled him with fear and kept him always 
 on the rack. 
 
 Yet the Emperor was dead. 
 
 Since May 5, 1821, that detested crea- 
 ture, whom he had cursed so often, rested 
 in peace a thousand leagues distant from 
 that Europe which he had dragged in 
 chains, a captive, behind his triumphal 
 car, but which he had been unable to 
 retain in subjection. 
 
 On this particular day the chancellor 
 was gloomier and more nervous than 
 ever. Happening by chance entirely 
 by chance, of course to be looking out 
 of the window of his apartment, he had 
 descried the son of that hated creature 
 conversing with that ill-bred gro- 
 gnard, who was perpetually turning up
 
 1 8 L'Aiglon 
 
 in his path. The thought of that man 
 who made kings tremble, and was nearly 
 as powerful as God himself, always made 
 his blood boil, and the old servitor of the 
 young p'rince, with his genial, frank face, 
 had almost an equally bad effect upon 
 him. It was come to such a point that 
 he Metternich the master, whom no 
 one attempted to gainsay was fain al- 
 most to lower his eyes before that old 
 soldier; and on more than one occasion 
 he had gone out of his way in his strolls 
 in the park to avoid meeting old Silvere 
 face to face the old soldier who never 
 lowered his scarred face before any one. 
 And then who was this young girl con- 
 versing so confidentially with the prince, 
 and presenting him with something, the 
 character of which the onlooker could 
 not discern at so great a distance ? There 
 was also a sealed package given to him ; 
 it was certainly a letter a petition, per- 
 haps. Could it be a petition ? The ap- 
 pealing attitude of the young girl seemed
 
 Metternich 19 
 
 to indicate it. Certainly it was a com- 
 munication from France. Now, in that 
 country, he reflected, there was consider- 
 able commotion. The younger branch 
 of the family was not yet sufficiently 
 firmly seated on the throne provided for 
 it by the insurrection. It was sur- 
 rounded by mercenaries, and enjoyed but 
 an indifferent popularity. It had every- 
 thing to fear from a military uprising, 
 which the remembrances and regrets of 
 departed glories would have rendered 
 irresistible. In such case there was 
 everything to fear, and it was necessary 
 to take precautions without delay. 
 
 Arousing himself from his dismal 
 thoughts, Metternich turned toward his 
 secretary, who was working at his elbow. 
 
 " We won't work any more to-day," 
 he said, rising and pushing away the pile 
 of letters spread before him ; " it is a 
 pleasant day; you may take a holiday. 
 Try to employ it well, but be here to- 
 morrow early to make up for lost time."
 
 2O L'Aiglon 
 
 The young man rose from his desk, 
 bowed respectfully to his chief, and left 
 the room. 
 
 When the sound of his footsteps had 
 died out in the distance, Metternich re- 
 turned hurriedly to the table and rang 
 his bell. A lackey was in attendance at 
 once, and stood in front of his master 
 awaiting his orders. Buried in his re- 
 flections, the diplomat seemed to have 
 forgotten his presence until, chancing to 
 raise his head, 'he said quickly, as if in 
 response to the mute interrogation of 
 the man : 
 
 " Pierre, is Count Otto de Falkenstein 
 in the chateau ? If so, hunt him up, and 
 tell him that I desire him here, and wish 
 him to come quickly." 
 
 The lackey hurried off to obey the com- 
 mand, and, gloomier than ever, the 
 chancellor seated himself again at 'his 
 desk and resumed the task of examining 
 the numerous documents heaped up be- 
 fore him.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE LETTER 
 
 WHEN he had left Silvere and Co- 
 lette, Reichstadt returned to his 
 apartments greatly troubled. The sight 
 of this young girl, so tender and devoted, 
 who had spoken to him in such a touch- 
 ing way of his beloved country, made his 
 heart beat quicker, and gave birth to 
 sentiments that, until then, he had been 
 unfamiliar with. He gazed reverently at 
 the bunch of violets for a long time, and 
 then placed them gently on his desk. 
 The sight of these flowers, withered 
 though they were after their long journey 
 from France, threw him into a sad rev- 
 erie not unmixed with pleasurable emo- 
 tions. Did they not typify his own des- 
 tiny ? Although he was so young he had
 
 22 L'Aiglon 
 
 seen few days untroubled by clouds, and, 
 at an age when persons of either sex have 
 joyful hearts and smiling faces, he felt 
 himself burdened with a weight of years 
 almost impossible to bear. 
 
 But more important matters came to 
 change the current of his meditations. 
 He remembered the letter that Colette 
 had given him, the seals of which he had 
 not yet broken. He hastily broke it 
 open, and hardly had he cast his eyes 
 upon it when he carried it to his lips and 
 give it a long, pious kiss. 
 
 He had recognized the writing of his 
 father, the Emperor Napoleon. 
 
 Dated at Saint Helena, the letter had 
 been written during the last few days of 
 that remarkable man. 
 
 In the brief, concise style of a soldier, 
 through which, however, sometimes 
 flashed gleams of paternal feeling, the 
 captive, too proud to complain of his 
 fate, sketched out for his beloved son 
 the plan of a restoration of the Empire.
 
 The Letter 23 
 
 With the keen insight which is the pre- 
 rogative of genius, and reading the future 
 like an open book, he reviewed, step by 
 step, the acts, good and bad, of the dy- 
 nasty which had overthrown him. 
 
 In conclusion, he urged upon his son 
 that when the opportunity should come 
 he would not hesitate to draw his sword 
 and boldly claim the patrimony for the 
 preservation of which his father had 
 struggled until the end. Devoted friends 
 who had never abandoned him, and in 
 whom he had the most implicit confi- 
 dence, would be able to decide as to the 
 proper time, and would inform him of 
 the hour and place where an appeal to 
 arms, sanctioned by his presence, would 
 have the best chance of success. 
 
 Then, like Saul on his way to Damas- 
 cus that day when the light of the Most 
 High appeared before his soul, the young 
 man fell on his knees in impulsive testi- 
 mony to the genius of the great man 
 who had given him birth, and swore to
 
 24 L'Aiglon 
 
 shake off that unworthy servitude to 
 which he had been consigned, to recon- 
 quer his lost heritage, and never to 
 sheathe his sword until that day when, 
 coming out of Notre Dame, the crown on 
 his head and the sceptre in his hand, he 
 should be strong enough to avenge 
 crimes, treasons, and insults, but noble 
 enough to pardon them. 
 
 A pale, timid child had a moment be- 
 fore entered the room; there was ready 
 to leave it a young man of steadfast mien 
 and lofty bearing a man prepared to 
 throw down the gauntlet to the future 
 and abide the consequences.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 COUNT OTTO 
 
 WHEN Fouche, Duke of Otranto, 
 the former chief of police under 
 Napoleon, and, after the Restoration, 
 charged by Louis XVIII. with the same 
 functions, had fallen into disfavor with 
 his royal master, he felt it advisable to 
 leave Paris. In the past he had held in 
 his hands the threads of all the conspir- 
 acies against every government he had 
 served since the Directory ; but he thor- 
 oughly appreciated that now his public 
 career was ended, and he wisely resigned 
 himself to a life of obscurity in the future. 
 He had little difficulty in arriving at 
 the conclusion that Austria was the best 
 country for him to select for an asylum, 
 and he resolved that he would end his
 
 26 L'Aiglon 
 
 days in peace there, safe from the ven- 
 geance that his duplicity and odious rule 
 had caused him to fear. Fearing that a 
 tragic epilogue would succeed to a career 
 soiled with crime and infamy, he turned 
 into ready cash all the property he had 
 acquired by serving and betraying his 
 many masters, and went to live at 
 Prague, hoping thus to avoid attention 
 as much as possible. 
 
 He took with him a serving-woman, 
 and a young man who called him " my 
 guardian," but who, in reality, was the 
 fruit of one of those temporary unions 
 which he contracted during the troub- 
 lous times when he was in power. 
 
 The youtlh grew up in the company of 
 these two old persons; and, when the 
 question of educating him came up, the 
 old man placed him with the Jesuits of 
 Friburg, where there was a college con- 
 secrated to the upbringing of youth. 
 
 Young Hopeful did great credit to his 
 instructors. He assimilated without dif-
 
 Count Otto 27 
 
 ficulty the various sciences that the emi- 
 nent professors there were so well fitted 
 to teach him ; but, on the other hand, his 
 lack of openness soon alienated him from 
 the friendship and esteem of his fellow- 
 pupils. At the death of his mysterious 
 protector, who departed this life at 
 Trieste in 1820, his studies were ab- 
 ruptly terminated, and he found him- 
 self thrown upon his own resources. 
 Possessing but little that he could call 
 his own (for Fouche had made no pro- 
 vision for him in his will), and embittered 
 by the shipwreck of his brilliant hopes, 
 young Otto tried everything and suc- 
 ceeded in nothing. Fond of pleasure 
 and enjoyment, the slave of fiery passions 
 that the slenderness of his means pre- 
 vented him from satisfying, he gradually 
 went down the road that leads to crime 
 and shame. 
 
 One evening, after a drunken brawl in 
 which he had killed the pilferer of the few 
 florins in his possession, he was arrested
 
 28 L'Aiglon 
 
 by the police, who seemingly had kept a 
 particularly close watch over him. By 
 some mysterious but powerful influence, 
 he was saved from punishment. He then 
 disappeared for several years, and no one 
 knew what had become of him. 
 
 Then one day he returned to Vienna, 
 cock of the walk and spending his money 
 like water, having added, by the favor of 
 the chancellor, to his plebeian name of 
 Otto, the title of " Count de Falken- 
 stein." One night Metternich, being in 
 want of a tool, had thrown his net into 
 the purlieus of Vienna society, and by 
 chance had drawn up a man suited to 
 his needs.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 NEWS FROM PARIS 
 
 THE dependent for whom the Prince 
 de Metternich had sent would 
 have made considerably more haste if he 
 had been able to divine with what impa- 
 tience the Chancellor of the Empire was 
 awaiting (him. Accustomed as the 
 younger man was to the impatience of 
 the great, he would have been extremely 
 uneasy as to the consequences of show- 
 ing little haste in complying with the 
 orders of the minister who, like Louis le 
 Grand, did not like to wait. 
 
 When he knocked at the door of the 
 prince's cabinet, the latter was striding 
 up and down the apartment, crushing in 
 his feverish hands a letter which a cabi-
 
 30 L'Aiglon 
 
 net courier had just brought to the 
 chateau. 
 
 The news which his correspondent 
 the prefect of police of Paris had 
 given him was anything but reassuring. 
 According to him, a Bonapartist con- 
 spiracy was on the point of breaking out, 
 having for its object the reestablishment 
 of the Empire and the turning upside 
 down of the present regime. Numerous 
 emissaries had crossed the frontier; po- 
 lice reports, only a few hours old, an- 
 nounced the disappearance simulta- 
 neously from Paris of several generals 
 of the Empire, secret partisans of the 
 old regime, who were, it was believed, 
 making their way towards Vienna with 
 the intention of seeing the prince and 
 winning him over kidnapping him, if 
 necessary. The plan then was to pro- 
 ceed to the frontier, where, at the 
 head of several regiments whose loyalty 
 to the government was suspected, they 
 would advance by forced marches on
 
 News from Paris 31 
 
 Paris, raising the populace and the 
 troops on the way thither. 
 
 King Louis-Philippe, continued the 
 prefect of police, had not placed much 
 credence at first in what he termed the 
 lying rumors; but gradually the reports 
 assumed such a character of consistency 
 that a council was held in the Tuileries 
 to arrange with the Minister of Foreign 
 Affairs for drawing up a diplomatic note 
 to the Chancellor of the Austro-Hun- 
 garian monarchy, advising him of what 
 was in the wind and praying him to use 
 all his influence over the Duke of Reich- 
 stadt to dissuade him from an undertak- 
 ing which threatened to revolutionize 
 Europe, and certainly would result in the 
 shedding of rivers of blood. 
 
 The prefect added in a postscript that 
 a woman or rather, a young girl 
 charged with a preparatory message to 
 the son of Napoleon, preceded the gene- 
 rals. She was to instruct him tentatively 
 in regard to the project and arrange a
 
 32 L'Aiglon 
 
 rendezvous in the chateau, where they 
 would agree upon all the details neces- 
 sary to bring the enterprise to a success- 
 ful conclusion and hand over to the 
 young man the throne of his father.
 
 THE SPY 
 
 THE enigmatical but apparently 
 composed demeanor of the new- 
 comer caused the anger of the chancel- 
 lor to cool suddenly. The calmness of 
 the young man surprised him, and, ex- 
 pecting important revelations, he dropped 
 in his chair, rather than seated himself. 
 
 After several .minutes spent in medi- 
 tation he raised his head and addressed 
 himself to Otto: 
 
 " You have taken your time to comply 
 with my order to come to me. You are 
 perhaps ignorant of the fact that I exact 
 from my subordinates of every grade and 
 variety an almost military promptitude. 
 You do not seem to have acted as if you 
 knew this requirement on my part. I
 
 34 L'Aiglon 
 
 trust I shall not find it necessary to make 
 such a reproach to you again." 
 
 " Your Excellency," returned the 
 young man, " will not only, I believe, 
 excuse the deliberation with which I have 
 executed your orders, but will commend 
 me when you have heard my report of 
 the cause of my negligence." 
 
 " You have important information to 
 impart, then ? " said the prince, leaning 
 toward his companion. " But, before 
 all things, it is important to proceed in 
 order and methodically. If you will be 
 so good, take things in their logical 
 order ; begin at the beginning ab ovo, as 
 the ancients say and give me a report 
 of the manner in which you have ac- 
 complished the mission I charged you 
 with, for it is of the greatest importance 
 to me. First, when did you return ? " 
 
 " Last night. I arrived toward ten 
 o'clock at the chateau, and repaired to 
 the apartments reserved for me, for at 
 that late hour, covered with dust as I was
 
 The Spy 35 
 
 after my long journey and having been 
 two days on the road, I was not very 
 presentable. You know, Monseigneur, 
 that etiquette is of such sovereign im- 
 portance here that it would have been 
 considered a crime for me to present my- 
 self in such a state before your Excel- 
 lency. This morning, however, I was up 
 at an early hour, waiting to be summoned, 
 when an unexpected circumstance (the 
 meeting with a person whose presence 
 here I was far from suspecting) resulted 
 in but I am wandering from the matter 
 in hand." 
 
 " Very well," said the chancellor ; 
 " collect your thoughts and relate mat- 
 ters in their proper sequence. What I 
 want, first, is a complete report of your 
 trip to Paris and the news that you ac- 
 quired there. I want to know every- 
 thing good and bad. You are to con- 
 ceal nothing. Go on with your story. 
 What did you learn there ? " 
 
 " Surprising things, as you will re-
 
 36 L'Aiglon 
 
 mark when you have heard my story. 
 I reached there towards noon last Mon- 
 day, and immediately reported to our 
 ambassador. He was at home, fortu- 
 nately. I found him in a disquieted frame 
 of mind and much preoccupied. He 
 quickly, however, made me au courant 
 with the news of the day, repeated to me 
 all the rumors that were flying about, 
 and told me of the projected plot. He 
 apprised me of -the names of the parties 
 implicated, and said that he had put on 
 the case all the police that he could get 
 hold of; but that the conspirators had 
 acted with so much prudence that they 
 had eluded all his efforts and completely 
 baffled his sleuths, and if it had not been 
 that chance the Providence of the po- 
 lice had come to his assistance, he 
 feared that he could have done nothing 
 to head off the uprising, and would have 
 been caught unawares and powerless to 
 resist. 
 
 " After I had tried to console him in
 
 The Spy 37 
 
 a perfunctory way, I left him, resolving 
 that I would go to work on my own hook 
 and trust to my lucky star; and the ex- 
 perience I had some few hours afterwards 
 showed me that I was right to take that 
 course instead of yielding to despair. 
 
 " Your Excellency is sufficiently ac- 
 quainted with the moral topography of 
 Paris to know that the Palais Royal is 
 the heart of the city. In the evening it 
 is fast and loud, being thronged by a 
 noisy, mixed crowd. It is the rendez- 
 vous of people from every quarter of the 
 globe a place where a person fond of 
 orgies can drink his full of dissipation; 
 where the pearl powder on the fairy's 
 arm is brushed off by the aristocratic 
 frock coat of princes, dukes, and mar- 
 quises engaged in having a good time in 
 the hurly-burly of debauch. 
 
 " In the afternoon the character of the 
 place is, of course, entirely changed. The 
 shops are closed, the fairies are sleeping, 
 and all around the parterres children
 
 38 L'Aiglon 
 
 romp and play, and their jolly laughter 
 gives a note of purity to the immense 
 place that in the evening will again be 
 a den of assignation. 
 
 " I had walked and walked and pon- 
 dered deeply as to what I might better 
 do, when suddenly, right at my elbow, 
 I saw passing me Bertrand and Mon- 
 tholon, dressed in travelling costume. 
 Hanging on Montholon's arm was a 
 young girl, hardly twenty years of age, 
 a brunette; and pretty enough to drive 
 you crazy. Behind the group at a dis- 
 tance of twenty paces came a Savoyard, 
 carrying a hand-bag. 
 
 " Here was a ray of light for me. 
 Chance, of which the Austrian ambas- 
 sador had spoken, was smiling on me. 
 I held in my hand one of the threads of 
 the complicated web which was puzzling 
 so many persons. 
 
 " At the Cour des Fontaines the two 
 generals, their pretty companion, and the 
 Savoyard whom I followed at a distance
 
 The Spy 39 
 
 as unobtrusively as possible turned 
 off into the rue Notre Dame des Victoires 
 and entered the Cour des Messageries, 
 where, after waiting a few minutes at the 
 carriage office, they went toward the 
 Strasbourg diligence, which was about 
 starting, and in which three coupe places 
 had been reserved for them in advance. 
 " Provided as I was with a diplomatic 
 passport and plenty of money, it was 
 easy for me to get aboard at the same 
 time they did; but fearing to be recog- 
 nized, I contented myself in the rotonde, 
 and I was soon after bowling along to- 
 ward Strasbourg, where in due time I 
 arrived, regularly done up but triumph- 
 ant. During the long journey I had had 
 time to reflect, and, reasoning from in- 
 duction, I had been able to figure out 
 exactly their projects and plan of cam- 
 paign. I was materially assisted in this 
 by overhearing through the partition 
 scraps of conversation from time to time. 
 Judging from the frequent fresh and
 
 40 L'Aiglon 
 
 hearty laughter of the young girl, the 
 party were far from suspecting the ter- 
 ribly dangerous compagnon de voyage that 
 fortune had thrown in their way. 
 
 " But there's many a slip 'twixt the 
 cup and the lip, and the Tarpeian Rock 
 is in the immediate neighborhood of the 
 Capitol. 
 
 " At Strasbourg I suffered a check, 
 which would have been my ruin had not 
 chance the chance that I shall always 
 bless and invoke repaired the fault I 
 was guilty of. 
 
 " Your Excellency will pardon me if 
 my story is a long one ; but, without wish- 
 ing to excuse myself entirely, I am quite 
 willing to submit to your judgment both 
 sides of the question. I will proceed 
 with my narrative. 
 
 " I put up at the same hotel as my 
 friends, the conspirators, whom I at- 
 tended as faithfully as if I were their 
 shadow. After my long vigil, so ex- 
 hausted that I could hardly stand, I was
 
 The Spy 41 
 
 unfortunate enough to sleep an hour 
 too long; and in the morning, when I 
 sprang out of bed, fresh and fit for any- 
 thing, and had dressed and descended to 
 the salle, my fellow-travellers were no 
 longer there. They had disappeared 
 winged their flight elsewhere. In the 
 court a stable-boy was washing a carriage. 
 It was the vehicle which had carried them 
 to Kiel they had crossed the Rhine. 
 
 " I sprang on a horse and covered the 
 route they had taken as rapidly as pos- 
 sible, but saw no trace of them. I arrived 
 here with death in my heart. This morn- 
 ing I went to get a breath of fresh air 
 in the garden, and the first person I 
 saw was my fair travelling companion, 
 emerging leisurely from a clump of trees 
 in the park. She was not alone; the 
 Duke of Reichstadt was with her. They 
 passed close to where I was hidden, and 
 I heard my lady say in a low voice : ' At 
 Camaldules, the 5th of May, at mid- 
 night.' "
 
 42 L'Aiglon 
 
 Metternich rose ; the audience was 
 over, but before dismissing the count he 
 said to him harshly: 
 
 " Chance has played, as you say, a 
 large part in this affair. You will soon 
 have to come to me again for further 
 instructions. Employ your spare mo- 
 ments in sauntering around and keeping 
 your eyes open. Gain the duke's friend- 
 ship and confidence. He is innocent and 
 good-hearted. Your task in that respect 
 is easy, and it is necessary for the success 
 of my plans to perform it well. He is 
 not acquainted with you, but I will at- 
 tend to the matter of an introduction. 
 Bonjour; keep your wits about you. 
 The Tarpeian Rock that you were talking 
 about just now is called here the Spiel- 
 berg. People who go there don't come 
 back. Bonjour; leave me ; I desire to be 
 alone."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 IN THE GROVE 
 
 THE spy told the strict truth when he 
 reported to Prince Metternich that 
 he had surprised Reichstadt and Colette 
 at their stolen interview ; and his espion- 
 age was destined to give an unlucky turn 
 to events. 
 
 After his meeting with Colette, the son 
 of Napoleon began to experience the first 
 symptoms of that delightful malady 
 known as love. Deprived in his infancy 
 of a mother's tenderness, and now sur- 
 rounded by courtiers indifferent, if not 
 actually hostile to him, his mind was well 
 prepared for the germination of vague 
 desires and thoughts that he had been 
 hitherto unacquainted with. 
 
 Although he was resolved not to yield
 
 44 L'Aiglon 
 
 to unworthy temptations, the sight of the 
 beautiful, modest girl, and the boundless 
 devotion and affection which she be- 
 stowed on the old servitor, had kindled 
 in the young man's soul a spark of love, 
 which increased in intensity day by day. 
 
 Ever since that night when, on his 
 knees, he had sworn to claim, sword in 
 hand, that heritage of glory bequeathed 
 to him by his father, a complete transfor- 
 mation had taken place in his character. 
 The timid, irresolute youth had given 
 place to a young man with a firm, decided 
 character. With a judgment that a man 
 of mature age might well envy, he had 
 weighed the chances of success in the 
 adventure he was about to undertake, 
 and then, with undaunted soul, had made 
 his decision, and resolved to bear the 
 consequences, whatever they were. 
 
 It was in this mood, after a sleepless 
 night, that the young man entered the 
 park to breathe the fresh air of a spring 
 morning. Colette, who had just re-
 
 In the Grove 45 
 
 turned from a hasty visit to Vienna, upon 
 discovering Reichstadt in the park has- 
 tily made her way toward a secluded 
 grove containing a marble seat, where 
 she knew he spent many hours in reading 
 and dreaming. The rapidity of her walk, 
 and the emotion she experienced at her 
 daring action, caused her heart to beat 
 painfully. It was, to say the least, a 
 rash act for her to meet the duke in such 
 a lonely spot ; but the soldier's daughter, 
 blindly devoted to the cause she served, 
 declined to be influenced by such petty 
 considerations. A crisis was at hand. 
 Two days before a beggar stationed at 
 the park gate, in thanking her for a florin 
 dropped into his hat, had made her a 
 mysterious sign, for which she was doubt- 
 less prepared, as, after a brief conference 
 with Silvere, she set out for Vienna. 
 
 There, in an interview with the two 
 generals, her travelling companions, it 
 was decided that she should induce the 
 duke to consent to meet the conspirators
 
 46 L'Aiglon 
 
 on the 5th of May at midnight in a mon- 
 astery at Camaldules, a little off the road 
 to Wagram. The place selected for the 
 meeting was particularly fitted for the 
 purpose, as the locality had been rav- 
 aged by the recent wars, and was a vast 
 solitude where all the preparations for a 
 coup could be made without attracting 
 attention. 
 
 When the duke, happening to look up, 
 saw Colette coming toward him his sur- 
 prise was so great that he dropped the 
 book which he had been reading. He 
 quickly, however, recovered his self-pos- 
 session, and advancing to meet the young 
 girl, took her hand in a friendly manner, 
 and begged her to rest on the marble 
 seat. 
 
 " Tell me, my dear compatriot," he ex- 
 claimed, gayly, " to what happy circum- 
 stance I must attribute such an early 
 ^meeting as this. I trust that nothing has 
 gone amiss with you. Is Silvere ill? I 
 saw him yesterday walking in his garden.
 
 In the Grove 47 
 
 But what is the matter with you ? Your 
 hand trembles. Do I frighten you? 
 Why are you so excited ? Calm yourself 
 and speak to me." 
 
 " Monseigneur," returned Colette, 
 " when you have heard me you will be 
 as excited as I am." 
 
 " Indeed! Is it so important? Have 
 you received news from France? Has 
 anything unexpected happened to upset 
 the plans which you have formed? Has 
 it anything to do with leaving here ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Colette, rising ; " it 
 has something to do with leaving here; 
 but it concerns your departure not 
 mine." 
 
 " My departure," said the duke. 
 " Come, explain yourself. When I saw 
 you trembling and distracted I divined 
 that something important was at stake, 
 for your coming out and meeting me at 
 this hour of the day is most unusual. 
 You are risking at this moment the dear- 
 est possession a young girl has her
 
 48 L'Aiglon 
 
 reputation and you are risking it in 
 order to assist and advise a person whom 
 you hardly know and who is nothing to 
 you. How good you are, and how I 
 thank you for this proof of affection you 
 have given me ! It is a thing I am little * 
 accustomed to." 
 
 " Monseigneur," said Colette, " the 
 daughter of a soldier goes straight ahead 
 when duty calls, without expostulation 
 and without fear. When she sets forth 
 she regards nothing but the end, and 
 when that end is a worthy one she pur- 
 sues her course proudly and recks not 
 of cowards and fools. She knows how 
 to take care of herself, for her honor is 
 her sole capital ; and child of the flag as 
 she is, and brought up under its folds, 
 she has constantly in mind the preserva- 
 tion of her modesty." 
 
 Filled with admiration and respect, the 
 duke stood mute before the lovely maid- 
 en the living incarnation of the lost 
 cause. Then, raising his head, he said:
 
 In the Grove 49 
 
 "And this departure, Colette; you 
 have forgotten that." 
 
 " No, Monseigneur," she replied ; " but 
 before coming to that I wish to fire your 
 soul with the same inspiration that fills 
 my own. When I was still a child, my 
 mother, in the winter evenings by the 
 light of a lamp, has often read to me the 
 history of Joan of Arc, who was sent by 
 heaven to put the king back on his throne 
 and drive the English into the sea. Mon 
 Dieu! how I wished then I had been that 
 heroine; that I could have borne the 
 sword aloft and attacked and cleft in 
 twain the enemies of France, and then, 
 at the hour of triumph, have taken my 
 place at the side of the king ! 
 
 " And God has heard my prayer, for, 
 if you desire it, in two days from now we 
 will set out. Two generals of the Em- 
 pire, faithful to the recollection of your 
 father, await us not far distant. I wish 
 to be the first to salute the Emperor," 
 and, suiting the action to the word, 
 
 4
 
 50 L'Aiglon 
 
 Colette fell on her knees, and possessing 
 herself of the hand of the duke, raised it 
 respectfully to her lips. 
 
 Reichstadt hastily raised her to her 
 feet ; then, exhausted by the emotions she 
 had awakened, and thinking it too late 
 to remain longer in the grove, he took 
 his leave not, however, until he had 
 asked her the hour and place for the 
 meeting. 
 
 It was then that the spy, prowling in 
 the garden, heard the answer: 
 
 " The 5th of May, at Camaldules."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 AT THE BALL 
 
 * I ""HE immense windows of the Cha- 
 1 teau de Schonbrunn are resplen- 
 dent with light. The walls of the vast 
 building and the terraces surrounding it 
 are bathed in the pale light of a spring 
 evening. The enchanting notes of a 
 grand orchestra discoursing redowas and 
 polonaises drift out upon the night air. 
 
 On the main floor, standing by his 
 grandfather, the Emperor Francis I., is 
 the Duke of Reichstadt. He is much 
 sought after, and does the honors of the 
 ball and receives the guests as they 
 arrive. 
 
 Under the chandeliers gay couples go 
 through the complicated figures of the 
 dance ; and uniforms of every shade, cov-
 
 52 L'Aiglon 
 
 ered with gold and silver embroidery, 
 form a fitting background to the white 
 shoulders of the ladies and their wealth 
 of diamonds. 
 
 Near a French window, apart from the 
 crowd, the Prince de Metternich and 
 Otto de Falkenstein, his tool, are con- 
 versing in a low tone ; and when, at mid- 
 night, the great clock of the chateau 
 sounds the hour for supper, and the dan- 
 cers of both sexes, preceded by the Em- 
 peror with an archduchess on his arm, 
 make their way slowly toward the im- 
 mense banquet hall, the two men secretly 
 slip out and proceed toward the right 
 wing of the palace. 
 
 It is there, at the top, under the plat- 
 form of La Gloriette, that the duke's 
 apartments are located. 
 
 The galleries and staircases are de- 
 serted and everything seems to favor the 
 nocturnal expedition of this prince of the 
 Austro-Hungarian empire who, blinded 
 by his hate and resentment, has de-
 
 At the Ball 53 
 
 scended so low that he is attempting at 
 night, like a burglar, to pick a lock and 
 pry into the secrets of the grandson of 
 the Emperor, his master. 
 
 Everything is quiet. Through the 
 open windows comes the sound of the 
 violins tuning up. The supper is nearly 
 over, and the dancing will commence 
 again and continue until daybreak. 
 
 The light flashes on a steel tool of some 
 kind in the hands of the spy. Under his 
 touch which seems to be not unfamiliar 
 with such work the lock quickly gives 
 way, and the contents of the chamber are 
 visible by the pale light of a veillcuse 
 which burns at the head of the bed. 
 
 Metternich, at this juncture, feels his 
 strength abandoning him, and now that 
 he has arrived at the consummation of 
 his plans and has only to reach out his 
 hand to get possession of the accursed 
 letter which has caused him so much 
 trouble, he trembles and hesitates. 
 
 He sinks into an arm-chair. But sud-
 
 54 L'Aiglon 
 
 denly he rises and starts back as if a ser- 
 pent were at his feet. On the desk, not 
 two steps distant from him, is a bronze 
 mask of the Emperor Napoleon, held in 
 the talons of an enormous eagle, which 
 apparently protects and defends it. 
 
 It is the one souvenir that the child 
 has retained of his father. A pious ser- 
 vitor preserved the sacred image from 
 oblivion. More fortunate than his mas- 
 ter, he returned to France, and imme- 
 diately sought out a great artist, and, 
 handing over to him the plaster cast, 
 which he had carefully retained, a chef- 
 d'oeuvre came forth, after which the 
 mould was immediately demolished. 
 This representation of his father the 
 young man kept always by him, and 
 daily and hourly it comforted him by 
 speaking of the dead. 
 
 At the sight of the bust, the remorse 
 for the cowardly and dishonorable action 
 upon which he was engaged in the com- 
 pany of a vile spy disappeared from that
 
 At the Ball 55 
 
 soul where there was no longer any room 
 for aught but hate and rage. 
 
 He drew himself up to his full height ; 
 the burden of his years slipped from his 
 shoulders, and, confronting the marvel- 
 lous bronze upon whic'h death had sealed 
 the solemn majesty of the Beyond, he 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " So, then, even in this palace your 
 detested effigy comes to trouble me ! Is 
 your grave so insecurely closed that your 
 accursed face comes from the abyss of 
 space to awaken bitter recollections in 
 my soul ? Your abhorred image still in- 
 spires the soul of your son. You made 
 your calculations without remembering 
 me. I am here still, and I am watch- 
 ing." 
 
 Then, turning away from the rigid 
 mask and repressing 'his burst of rage 
 on account of the presence of his accom- 
 plice, he said to Otto, who was listening 
 to him much troubled : 
 
 " What we are looking for ought not
 
 56 L'Aiglon 
 
 to be far from here. Lift up the bronze 
 and look under it." 
 
 Otto did as he was told ; and the bronze 
 mask having been lightly raised up, 
 there on the table-cover appeared a paper 
 sealed with the Imperial arms. 
 
 Metternich seized it and proceeded 
 hurriedly to master its contents. 
 
 The further he advanced in his reading 
 the deeper became his frown. 
 
 When he had finally finished its peru- 
 sal, he turned to Otto and said : 
 
 " Your reports and the inferences that 
 I have drawn from them are now fully 
 confirmed. We are confronted by a plot 
 of which all the tangled threads are in 
 my hands. Have you not told me of a 
 rendezvous that the adopted daughter of 
 this soldier-gardener has arranged for 
 the duke in the ruined convent off the 
 road to Wagram, a few leagues from 
 here? I liave forgotten the date; you 
 will have to jog my memory." 
 
 "That's easy enough, Monseigneur,"
 
 At the Ball 57 
 
 returned Otto ; " the rendezvous is for 
 to-morrow, the 5th of May, at midnight, 
 and I have an excellent reason for not for- 
 getting the date. That date was chosen 
 
 for a reason ; it is the day " 
 
 "Don't finish," said Metternich; "I 
 know. It is the anniversary of the Em- 
 peror's death. Well, if that date pleases 
 them it suits me perfectly. I will make 
 such preparations that they will have 
 good cause to remember the 5th of May. 
 But time is passing. Let us get out of 
 here before any one sees us." 
 
 When the two men had left the room, 
 and their retreating footsteps could be 
 heard no longer, a frightened face 
 emerged from a corner of the apartment 
 covered by a thick drapery, and Colette 
 stood revealed by the rays of the rising 
 sun.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 COLETTE 
 
 A FEW words will be necessary to ex- 
 plain the presence of the young 
 girl in the duke's apartments at such an 
 hour. She was the daughter of a sol- 
 dier, and 'had nothing of the timidity 
 of the young girls of the present day. 
 Again, the short time remaining before 
 the blow was to be struck did not permit 
 her to stand upon too much ceremony ; 
 the preparations for taking away the duke 
 were all made ; the day of departure was 
 fixed, and it was no longer possible to 
 take a backward step. 
 
 Reichstadt, carried away by the enthu- 
 siasm of Colette, had no objection to 
 carrying out his role ; but, too much ex- 
 cited to remain longer in the park, he had
 
 Colette 59 
 
 left the young girl without giving her a 
 chance to explain the details of the plan 
 in which he was to take part. 
 
 It was to repair this omission that Co- 
 lette, provided with instructions for the 
 duke, introduced herself into his apart- 
 ments, and was thus unwittingly present 
 and saw the dishonorable act of Metter- 
 nich and his accomplice. 
 
 When she heard the last part of the 
 conversation between the two, and com- 
 prehended that she and her friends were 
 at the mercy of the spy, and that every- 
 thing would have to be begun over again, 
 a cold perspiration trickled down her 
 forehead and she had to seize hold of 
 the hangings behind her to keep from 
 falling. 
 
 But how had she been able to get ac- 
 cess to the room when the door was so 
 securely locked that Metternich liad to 
 force it open? This can be easily ex- 
 plained. 
 
 When the Emperor the conqueror of
 
 60 L'Aiglon 
 
 the Austrians fixed his residence at 
 Schonbrunn in the short interval be- 
 tween two victories, he occupied the same 
 apartment which, some years later, was 
 to be the study of his proscribed son. As 
 his staff was coming constantly to his 
 rooms, the Emperor, who was fond of be- 
 ing alone, was accustomed to put away 
 etiquette and descend 'to the park to in- 
 hale the night air and banish from his 
 mind for a brief season the cares of power. 
 He soon found it convenient for his pur- 
 poses to have a secret entrance to his 
 apartment. Silvere, whom the Emperor 
 had attached to his person and from 
 whom he concealed nothing, was the only 
 one aware of the existence of this secret 
 passage. When, therefore, Colette, after 
 her return to the cottage at the conclusion 
 of her conversation with Reichstadt, had 
 told her adopted father that she had not 
 thoroughly finished her mission, Silvere 
 did not hesitate to confide to her the 
 secret of the 'hidden passageway, and the
 
 Colette 6 1 
 
 girl took advantage of the night of the 
 ball to place the letter of the confederates 
 where the young man could see it on his 
 return. The presence of Metternich and 
 his ally changed her plans. Calm and 
 resolute, and taking counsel of no one 
 but herself, she replaced in her bosom 
 the letter she had taken out; then, ap- 
 proaching the table and taking up a pen 
 lying on a silver writing-desk, she wrote 
 as follows, with a feverish hand, on a slip 
 of paper: 
 
 " MONSEIGNEUR : 
 
 " Be there to-morrow, the 5th of May, at 10 
 o'clock instead of at midnight. 
 
 " At the ruined monastery of Camaldules. 
 
 "Your highness must be attended by some 
 one ; let it be the Count of Falkenstein. 
 
 "COLETTE." 
 
 Then she tilted up the bronze cast, 
 placed her note where it might be seen, 
 and, conjecturing by the noise of carriage 
 wheels that the guests were leaving and
 
 62 L'Aiglon 
 
 the duke would soon return, she raised 
 up the hangings and departed, saying 
 to herself : " I shall have two hours to 
 spare. Two hours ! God is just."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 CAMALDULES 
 
 AT a league's distance from Schon- 
 brunn, in a well-wooded valley 
 separated from the road leading to Wag- 
 ram by hills of considerable height, is 
 located the monastery of Camaldules. 
 The building was erected in the early 
 part of the twelfth century under the 
 auspices of St. Romualdo, and had beheld 
 many revolutions and wars. The fact 
 that it was at some distance from the 
 highway had been its salvation the 
 hordes of troops which had, in the course 
 of half-a-dozen centuries, succeeded each 
 other passed close by its walls without 
 being aware of its existence. 
 
 Thus protected by nature, the monas- 
 tery was the scene of the usual monkish
 
 64 L'Aiglon 
 
 activity until the time of the Imperial 
 wars, when, on account of the scarcity of 
 labor, the monks were obliged to leave 
 the locality. 
 
 The building so abandoned gradually 
 went to ruin in the course of time; the 
 bells no longer rang out, the organ was 
 mute, and tufts of moss made their ap- 
 pearance in the neglected cells. 
 
 But the ruin was not entirely deserted. 
 
 One of those pious cenobites almost 
 a centenarian following the example of 
 his order, which had numerous hermits 
 scattered about all over Christendom, be- 
 sought permission of his superiors to 
 spend the few remaining years of his life 
 in the cloister where he had passed the 
 most of his existence. He represented to 
 them that that solitary valley was the only 
 world he knew, and that he wished to pass 
 his remaining days in contemplation and 
 prayer. 
 
 His request was granted. 
 
 The pious creature had always been a
 
 Camaldules 65 
 
 student of simples, and became quite pro- 
 ficient in the art of curing by vegetable 
 remedies. So true was this that he soon 
 had a numerous clientele among the poor 
 and ailing. 
 
 Silvere, who was of an age when he 
 began to experience severe twinges as 
 the result of the many hard knocks he 
 had received in his campaigns, had heard 
 some one speak of the monk-physician, 
 and made him a. visit and received much 
 benefit from the treatment. 
 
 Since then the monk and the soldier 
 saw each other almost every day. Al- 
 though devoted to pursuits so widely dif- 
 fering from each other, there grew up 
 between the two lonely old men a most 
 sincere friendship. On pleasant days ihe 
 old soldier, seated on the shaft of a broken 
 column, might be heard declaiming 
 whole epics bearing upon his vast ex- 
 perience at the forefront of battle; the 
 monk, seated at his side, would some- 
 times take the floor and talk to his friend
 
 66 L'Aiglon 
 
 of God and the saints. Each had his 
 hobby. 
 
 When night came they bade each other 
 good-'by ; the soldier returned to the cha- 
 teau and the hermit retired within and 
 stretched his lean figure on a mat made 
 of rushes, which, with a rough bench, 
 comprised the furniture of his narrow 
 cell. 
 
 As a result of these many visits, Sil- 
 vere became well acquainted with the in- 
 terior of the building even with its most 
 secret recesses. 
 
 One Christmas Eve, the snow, which 
 had been falling for several days, had 
 made the roads almost impassable, and 
 the hermit insisted that his friend should 
 pass the night in the monastery. Silvere 
 allowed himself to be persuaded to do so, 
 though he would have much preferred his 
 own bed to the hard couch destined for 
 him. He retired early and tried his best 
 to sleep. The pealing of the bells of 
 Vienna calling the faithful to midnight
 
 Camaldules 67 
 
 mass reached him, slightly muffled by 
 the hills surrounding the valley. Un- 
 able to sleep, he was turning and twisting 
 on his bed when the door of his cell 
 opened, and, by the light of a torch, he 
 perceived the monk standing in the door- 
 way and beckoning to him to follow. 
 Silvere arose at once, and, climbing over 
 the rubbish that strewed the yard, the two 
 men entered the chapel. 
 
 Arrived there, the monk, by means of 
 a crowbar lying under the steps of the 
 altar, forced back an enormous stone, 
 which worked in grooves and was so 
 nicely fitted to them that a child could 
 manage it. An icy breeze, impregnated 
 with the sickening fumes of decaying 
 matter, assailed their nostrils, and they 
 instinctively recoiled. 
 
 The monk was the first to recover him- 
 self. Followed by his companion, he ad- 
 vanced toward the opening. By means 
 of a short, shaky ladder both descended 
 to a subterranean chapel, the walls of
 
 68 L'Aiglon 
 
 which consisted of the rarest varieties of 
 marble, Between the choir and the apse 
 was an altar covered with the vestments 
 and utensils that are brought into requi- 
 sition when masses for the dead are cele- 
 brated. There was also a crucifix covered 
 with crape, a number of tapers of yellow 
 wax, and several candlesticks. On the 
 further side of the choir, placed on 
 oaken brackets, their faces covered by 
 their cowls, lay five score monks, seem- 
 ing to await the signal of the Abbe to 
 rise and sing the hours. 
 
 Silvere regarded this strange scene 
 with astonishment; but the odor of de- 
 composing flesh rendered a stay of any 
 duration in the chapel dangerous in the 
 highest degree. Even the monk recog- 
 nized this when 'he saw that the light of 
 his torch had assumed a pale, sickly 
 color. Seizing the soldier by the arm, 
 he dragged him with little ceremony 
 to the foot of the ladder, and both re- 
 mounted to the floor above.
 
 Camaldules 69 
 
 When they arrived in the sacred edi- 
 fice overhead, the monk moved the stone 
 back into its former position and replaced 
 the crowbar under the altar steps. Then, 
 turning to Silvere, and breaking the si- 
 lence which he had maintained till then, 
 he said: 
 
 " Friend and brother, when I urged 
 your remaining with me this night, you 
 probably suspected that I did it for no 
 frivolous reason. The time is come for 
 me to explain myself. You are cour- 
 ageous and will be faithful to an oath. 
 Will you, by the crucifix before us, prom- 
 ise me that when I die you will take 
 me in your arms and place me in the 
 empty cell on the right of the choir? I 
 have abided here all these years solely 
 that I might be placed to rest there when 
 life was over. I am waiting to hear 
 your answer." 
 
 Silvere, deeply touched by the trust 
 that the hermit had placed in him, and 
 moved, beside, by the attachment the old
 
 70 L'Aiglon 
 
 man displayed for his old residence, read- 
 ily gave his promise; and when, not long 
 after, the hermit slept his last sleep, he 
 was placed religiously by the side of his 
 former comrades. 
 
 This digression will explain why Sil- 
 vere knew the monastery so well. 
 
 We shall see hereafter what part the 
 subterranean chapel played in the drama 
 that was taking place.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 A LESSON 
 
 THE Prince de Metternich, when he 
 had brusquely dismissed the spy, 
 after receiving his report, proceeded to 
 block out the best course of action to pur- 
 sue. He arranged that the spy should 
 be presented forthwith to the Duke de 
 Reichstadt, and instructed the former to 
 endeavor to gain the duke's good graces, 
 to watch all his actions, and to be espe- 
 cially careful to give warning of the time 
 when the conspiracy would come to a 
 head. 
 
 Otto had little difficulty in carrying out 
 the first part of his instructions. The 
 duke, who was by nature very approach- 
 able, received kindly the advances of the
 
 72 L'Aiglon 
 
 spy, and soon admitted him to the num- 
 ber of his intimate friends. 
 
 The psuedo count, however, while 
 serving the ends of his despotic master, 
 had other projects in view. The beauty 
 of Colette had made a deep impression 
 upon this corrupt creature, and he 
 thought that through his intimacy with 
 the duke he would be able to see her fre- 
 quently and put into execution the plan 
 of seduction he had sketched out. 
 
 But one might have thought that Co- 
 lette was invisible. She was always either 
 in Silvere's cottage or in the enclosed 
 garden where the old soldier tended his 
 roses. 
 
 To accost her when she was walking 
 in the garden was not to be thought of; 
 the presence of the servants rendered such 
 a step impracticable. And then Silvere 
 was so watchful! He never left his 
 adopted child alone. At an appeal from 
 her he would quickly have hastened to 
 her assistance. But suppose he should
 
 A Lesson 
 
 73 
 
 see an opportunity to waylay the young 
 girl, how should he explain his presence 
 in that part of the park to the old soldier, 
 who would have visited with prompt jus- 
 tice any affront ? 
 
 Fate came to his assistance. 
 
 One evening Colette, wearying of her 
 voluntary seclusion, resolved to take a 
 long walk in the park. It happened to 
 be the, evening of the fete described in 
 the preceding chapter. 
 
 Not knowing what the morrow had in 
 store for her, she wished to take another 
 look at the little grove where one spring 
 morning she had offered her devotion to 
 the exile and excited his admiration to 
 such a high degree. 
 
 Colette's feeling, however, was not 
 only devotion in the ordinary sense of 
 the word. A sentiment of a more ten- 
 der nature had taken possession of her 
 heart. The gentle pity that every woman 
 feels for the unfortunate had been re- 
 placed by a new sensation, painful and
 
 74 L'Aiglon 
 
 yet pleasant. She had experienced a 
 wound which brought to her heart for 
 the first time a sentiment of joy and yet 
 of fear. 
 
 Seated on the marble bench the young 
 girl, absorbed in her reflections, seemed 
 completely detached from the affairs of 
 this world as if her soul had taken wing 
 for a better land and had left behind all 
 the deceptions and miseries of earth. 
 
 A shadow, which intercepted the last 
 rays of the setting sun, caused her to raise 
 her head. 
 
 In front of her, his arms folded on his 
 breast, stood the same stranger whom she 
 had run across when she took leave of 
 the duke the day she told him of the place 
 of rendezvous. She recognized in him 
 also the persistent creature who, at every 
 hour of the day recently, had been hang- 
 ing around Silvere's cottage. 
 
 At the same time something impelled 
 her to give a rapid glance into the past. 
 Where had she seen this mysterious man
 
 A Lesson 75 
 
 before ? She passed rapidly in review the 
 events of the last few months, and sud- 
 denly hit upon the answer to the rid- 
 dle. It was the same traveller who, in 
 the Cour des Messageries, was so inquisi- 
 tive about her companions that they be- 
 lieved themselves watched, and thought 
 it best to leave Strasbourg at the earliest 
 opportunity and cross the Rhine. 
 
 These diverse recollections caused a 
 feeling of the most absolute repulsion in 
 the young girl's soul against the creature, 
 and her features ordinarily so gentle 
 and open became clouded. In a word, 
 her whole face was a plain indication of 
 the storm which was raging in her heart. 
 
 The young man perceived without dif- 
 ficulty that he was meeting with no very 
 flattering reception, but he thought a 
 bold stroke might turn the scales in 
 his favor. He advanced, therefore, still 
 closer, and said in a lackadaisical manner : 
 
 " It's just the evening, Mademoiselle, 
 isn't it, to be alone and dream of love?
 
 76 L'Aiglon 
 
 What an appropriate place! See how 
 the trees surround and protect you from 
 the gaze of curious persons. But, with- 
 out wishing to be too free, may I sit down 
 by you a moment that is, unless you are 
 expecting some one ? " 
 
 Colette with an effort controlled her- 
 self, and, looking at the ruffian haughtily, 
 made a movement to rise and give up 
 her place to him. But that was not 
 what the intruder wished, and he said 
 hastily : 
 
 " You are not afraid of me, are you ? " 
 Colette, who had started to go, stopped 
 quickly. She remembered how a few 
 days before another young man was in 
 the same place standing by her side, and 
 that seeing her agitation he had asked 
 with kindness almost with tenderness 
 the cause of her trouble. His voice was 
 gentle and caressing. The emotion of 
 anger that she was experiencing now was 
 genuine; this young man had -made al- 
 most the same remark, but what a dif-
 
 A Lesson 77 
 
 ference there was in the way of ex- 
 pressing it. 
 
 The crafty wretch sitting before her on 
 the bench with his mouth screwed up and 
 his legs crossed deserved a lesson, and 
 she was the woman to give it to him. 
 
 " Pardon me," she said ; " you asked 
 me if I am afraid of you. Fear is a feel- 
 ing I am not acquainted with, for, until 
 this moment, no person male or female 
 has insulted me. Hereafter I shall 
 know what fear is. I have suffered an 
 affront, and one single sentiment fills my 
 heart a profound contempt. But be- 
 fore leaving this grove, which, according 
 to you, is such a favorable place to dream 
 of love, I would like to ask you who you 
 are and by what right you are always 
 dogging my steps. I am not aware that 
 I have done anything to encourage your 
 amorous pursuit. You will do well not 
 to repeat the offence in the future. 
 
 " Now, 'as to who you are. You carry 
 a sword. It sparkles in the sun an em-
 
 78 ' L'Aiglon 
 
 blem of honor. You are a gentleman, 
 then. But your conduct prompts me to 
 doubt it. What are you, then? Are you, 
 perchance, a spy? Monsieur, your very 
 humble servant." 
 
 And, disdainful and haughty, she 
 passed in front of his Excellency the 
 Count Otto de Falkenstein, and departed 
 from the grove.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 A LAST INTERVIEW 
 
 AT ten o'clock on the morning of the 
 5th of May Metternich summoned 
 the Count Otto to his cabinet for the pur- 
 pose of making the final arrangements 
 to thwart the plot, which was to reach its 
 culmination that evening. 
 
 The spy responded promptly to the 
 command, and, for the first time, the 
 diplomat dispensed with some of the 
 haughty disdain with which he had 
 hitherto treated his subordinate. 
 
 " Eh bien! " he said, rubbing his 
 hands ; " to-night is the night we are to 
 put an end forever to the hopes of these 
 idiots who want to give us a second edi- 
 tion of the Empire a revised and cor- 
 rected edition. Well, it is about time;
 
 8o L'Aiglon 
 
 for I see that the wings of that Eaglet 
 which Europe put under my care are be- 
 ginning to grow a little too rapidly. 
 
 " Apropos of that, I sent for you so 
 we may know exactly where we are. Do 
 you know anything new ? " 
 
 " Monseigneur," replied Otto, " I be- 
 lieve I have been successful beyond your 
 most sanguine hopes, and I bring you 
 some news which will show that I have 
 followed your instructions to the letter. 
 After having been presented to the Duke 
 of Reichstadt, through the kind offices of 
 your Excellency, I succeeded in gaining 
 his confidence and winning his friend- 
 ship. I acquitted myself so well that this 
 morning he sent for me to come to his 
 rooms ; and, after begging me to be dis- 
 creet, made me promise to accompany 
 him this evening at nightfall on a jour- 
 ney. You see, I am now in the plot my- 
 self. What do you think of that, sir ? " 
 
 " I am satisfied with you," replied 
 the chancellor. " You have played a dif-
 
 A Last Interview 81 
 
 ficult role, and you have played it well. 
 I must confess that from the very first 
 you have divined just the things it was 
 necessary for us to know. Although 
 acting but as an obscure agent, you have 
 left diplomats of experience far 'be- 
 hind. You have gone straight ahead, 
 while they were groping blindly about 
 hoping that Providence would help them 
 to solve the problems too hard for their 
 powers. When the cells of Spielberg 
 shall have been closed upon these ac- 
 cursed French devils, and matters are 
 perfectly tranquil again, and when our 
 Imperial ward, disgusted with con- 
 spiracies, recognizes that the Empire is 
 a thing of the past, I will make it a point 
 to recompense you royally. But, before 
 terminating this interview, if you have 
 any favor to ask, do not hesitate to do 
 so. I am ready to act upon it." 
 ' " Monseigneur," replied Otto, " the 
 praise you have given me is a sufficient 
 recompense for my modest services, and 
 
 6
 
 82 L'Aiglon 
 
 the request I am going to prefer will be a 
 new proof of my devotion. 
 
 " At the park gate, in the cottage where 
 the chief gardener lives, you have an 
 enemy. Your Excellency was speaking 
 of two cells in Spielberg for the French 
 generals. Let a third one open its door 
 to receive that man forever." 
 
 " Who ? " asked Metternich. 
 
 " Silvere," replied the spy. 
 
 And he went out, gloating over the 
 vengeance he had taken ; for, with the old 
 soldier once in prison, it would not be 
 long before the ward would fall into the 
 clutches of the person whom she had so 
 mortally offended.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE ROAD TO THE THRONE 
 
 IT was nine o'clock in the evening, and 
 the moon had just risen. Its cold, 
 pale rays lighted up the solitary valley, 
 and the ruins of the old abbey seemed 
 to sleep buried under its mantle of moss. 
 
 In the pass which gave an entrance 
 to the place two men on horseback were 
 pursuing their way. Riding side by side, 
 they maintained a complete silence, and 
 both seemed absorbed in the deepest 
 meditation. These two men were the 
 Duke of Reichstadt and Otto de Falken- 
 stein. 
 
 The spy felt that this was the decisive 
 hour; in a few minutes he was going to 
 play his trump card. He knew that up 
 to the present time Chance had been a
 
 84 L'Aiglon 
 
 serviceable partner and had helped to 
 take in many a trick. Like all gamblers, 
 however, he was fearful lest something 
 unexpected should happen at the last mo- 
 ment to spoil his play. He thought, too, 
 of the promises of Metternich and of the 
 recompense which he had every right to 
 expect; but his knowledge of men, and 
 his contempt for most of them, made him 
 uncertain and nervous. After all, what 
 faith could he place in the chancellor? 
 The disdain that the latter had never 
 taken the trouble to conceal ; his sudden 
 caprices; the deep aversion that he 
 plainly perceived sometimes underlying 
 the icy politeness all these things de- 
 pressed him at the moment when he felt 
 'he was attaining his end when he was 
 reaching forth his hand to gather the 
 fruit of so much labor. 
 
 A thought even more bitter left him no 
 rest; he was but a spy one of those 
 despicable instruments of whom the great 
 make use, but whom they throw over
 
 The Road to the Throne 85 
 
 without compunction when they find it 
 to their interest to do so. The further 
 he rode the more uneasy he became. 
 
 What he feared above all things was his 
 complicity in the shameful forcing of the 
 duke's apartments. He had been a wit- 
 ness to the fact that the Chancellor of 
 Austria, a Prince of the Holy Empire, 
 had been guilty of acting as a spy. He 
 recalled how by the light of the veilleuse 
 lie had looked for one instant into the 
 soul of the terrible chancellor, and what 
 a frightful sight he had seen. 
 
 Reichstadt, on the other hand, rode on, 
 his head held high, inhaling the balmy 
 evening air with deep-drawn breaths. 
 His thoughts were of an entirely different 
 nature. The blessed moment he had so 
 long expected was about to arrive. He 
 was going to cast off forever the Austrian 
 uniform that slave's livery. When he 
 placed his foot in the stirrup, on setting 
 out from the gilded cage where he 'had 
 passed his melancholy youth, he had
 
 86 L'Aiglon 
 
 thrown into his last adieu all the hatred 
 so long stored up in his heart. 
 
 And on the morrow, that day so long 
 desired, the son of the Eagle, with wings 
 widespread, would soar swiftly to the 
 scene of battles. His heart was fired as 
 by a bugle blast ; and before him he saw 
 great plains covered with soldiery. With 
 drums beating and standards flung to 
 the breeze he saw the opposing masses 
 under the broiling sun advance to the 
 furious charge ; he saw the steel flash in 
 the sun's rays and heard the hollow 
 booming of the cannon in the distance. 
 
 As if in a dream, insensible to his sur- 
 roundings, the son of Napoleon went his 
 way on the road whither his destiny led 
 him. 
 
 A strong hand on his bridle rein re- 
 called him to earth, and he saw Silvere 
 by his side. 
 
 He had reached his destination.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE PUNISHMENT 
 
 THE new arrivals, preceded by Sil- 
 vere, entered the chapel, which 
 was lighted feebly by several lamps. 
 
 Near the ruined steps formerly used 
 for reaching the altar stood two cloaked 
 figures. 
 
 Upon the entrance of the duke they 
 hurriedly uncovered, and the young man 
 perceived two manly, soldierly forms. 
 They smiled with pleasure at seeing him, 
 but that look was quickly changed when 
 they saw by whom he was accompanied. 
 
 Reichstadt, perceiving the unfavorable 
 impression made by his companion, has- 
 tened to reassure them. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said he, " do not believe, 
 I beg of you, that in a matter so grave I
 
 88 L'Aiglon 
 
 would act thoughtlessly. I know very 
 well that the least indiscretion now might 
 entail the most serious results. It might 
 be a matter of death for you and of per- 
 petual imprisonment for me. But fear 
 nothing ; the man with me, I assure you, 
 came here at my request, and if it seems 
 like forgetting the elementary principles 
 of prudence to bring a stranger, I can 
 only say in my defence that I did it be- 
 cause I was expressly so instructed to do 
 by a young girl whose devotion to our 
 cause is unquestionable. I speak of the 
 adopted daughter of my old servitor Sil- 
 vere." 
 
 At the name of Colette, and learning 
 that she was the cause of his being there, 
 the spy felt a cold shiver run down his 
 back. Why, he thought, should this 
 young girl, who could not possibly have 
 any feeling, for him except one of con- 
 tempt, who the evening before had ridi- 
 culed him so cruelly why should she 
 bring him into the midst of a plot which,
 
 The Punishment 89 
 
 thanks to him, was going to end in noth- 
 ing? Here was a mystery that he could 
 not fathom ; but he was not the man to 
 give up easily, and he postponed a further 
 consideration of the subject. 
 
 The duke, fearful that the explanation 
 of his conduct which he had given would 
 be coldly received, and beginning to think 
 that he had been a little careless in treat- 
 ing as a friend a man who had given no 
 proof that he deserved confidence, did not 
 observe the consternation of his com- 
 panion. 
 
 Leaving the spy in the company of Sil- 
 vere, the duke retired to a corner of the 
 chapel for a conference with the con- 
 spirators. 
 
 Finally the conference was ended. 
 Everything appeared to be arranged. 
 Silvere had just lighted a torch, in order 
 to guide the party out, when a person 
 whom nobody expected made her ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 It was Colette.
 
 90 L'Aiglon 
 
 What was the meaning of her appear- 
 ance at such an hour? Did she come to 
 bid the duke a last farewell or did she in- 
 tend to join her fortune with his ? 
 
 Such were the questions that occurred 
 to those present. 
 
 Their suspense did not last long. 
 
 Pale and resolute, she turned to the 
 generals, who were looking at her with 
 stupefaction, and said: 
 
 " Gentlemen, I come to fulfil a sad 
 duty. The devotion that you entertain 
 for the memory of your Emperor has 
 caused you to engage in a project worthy 
 of your courage and energy. Faithful 
 to your word given at the Emperor's 
 deathbed, you have done everything dur- 
 ing the last few years to restore to the 
 son the throne lost by the father. You 
 have risked your heads and pushed valor 
 to the extreme of rashness by coming so 
 close to Schonbrunn, the aerie of the 
 house of Austria, to bear away the Eaglet 
 who has so long been held in captivity.
 
 The Punishment 91 
 
 " But, soldiers ignorant of devious 
 ways, lions who fight in the open, your 
 brave efforts are to fall to the ground 
 through the duplicity and underhand 
 workings of those whose interest it is to 
 render them nugatory. Your noble en- 
 terprise, upon the point of succeeding, 
 must be begun again. Your plans are 
 known; and within an hour an army 
 with drawn swords and muskets pre- 
 pared for action will descend upon this 
 valley, for they have sworn to take you 
 and make you pay for the terror caused 
 by the fear of a Restoration. Silvere, 
 who knows all the ins and outs of this 
 place, will be able to get you safe and 
 sound out of this abbey, where your 
 enemies expected to find and shoot 
 you. 
 
 " An asylum awaits you, where you 
 will remain until the storm blows over. 
 The frontier is guarded. Your task is 
 finished and mine now begins." 
 
 Then, turning toward Otto, who was
 
 92 L'Aiglon 
 
 by this time in a cold perspiration, she 
 said: 
 
 " Arrest this man. We have still an 
 hour ; it will be sufficient for revenge." 
 
 Silvere led him aside and bound his 
 hands. 
 
 The duke, with his hands to his head, 
 dropped upon an oak bench, and the gen- 
 erals impassively waited for the young 
 girl to speak again. 
 
 " You recall, gentlemen," continued 
 Colette, " our departure from Paris, the 
 rapid trip we made to Strasbourg, and 
 the ingenious trick by which we suc- 
 ceeded in outwitting the watchfulness of 
 the man who was shadowing us ? Well, 
 a few days after my arrival I had an inter- 
 view with Monseigneur the Duke, in 
 which I made him acquainted with our 
 plans. When I was leaving him, and 
 just as I had announced to him the 
 place and time of the rendezvous, what 
 was my surprise to see hanging around, 
 and seeming to spy upon us, the very
 
 The Punishment 93 
 
 same creature that followed us to Stras- 
 bourg. 
 
 " ' Who was he, and what was he doing 
 at the chateau ? ' That was what I asked 
 myself, and, as you will see, I received a 
 very conclusive answer in the sequel. 
 
 " I was destined to meet him twice 
 more. 
 
 " Of my first meeting with him I will 
 say little, for it is a matter personal to 
 myself, and the insult I received from 
 him is a trifling matter compared with 
 the interests which we all have at stake. 
 I will, then, speak only of the second of 
 these meetings. 
 
 " It was during the fete given last 
 night. Taking advantage of the servants 
 being engaged elsewhere, about the mid- 
 dle of the evening I sought the apart- 
 ments of the duke, whom I had seen 
 occupied in receiving his guests. It 
 was necessary for me to give him the let- 
 ter that we had obtained in Vienna a few 
 days before. I entered his room by a
 
 94 L'Aiglon 
 
 secret passage Which Silvere had shown 
 to me, and approaching the cabinet where 
 he kept his papers, I was about to place 
 my letter where he could see it, when the 
 sound of some one trying to force open 
 a door attracted my attention and obliged 
 me to conceal myself not, however, till 
 I had repossessed myself of my letter. 
 
 " I held my breath, and, although fear- 
 ing nothing for myself, I could not help 
 trembling. 
 
 " Judge of my surprise when, the lock 
 giving away, I saw by the pale light 
 of the veilleuse the Prince of Metternich 
 and this creature. Their presence in that 
 part of the chateau puzzled me in no little 
 degree, but at the first words they uttered 
 I shuddered and feared that I should 
 swoon. I exerted all my self-control, 
 however, resolving to hear to the end the 
 sinister verdict which would put an end 
 to all our hopes. Then it was that I 
 learned that this cursed spy tracked us 
 step by step all the time since our depart-
 
 The Punishment 95 
 
 ure from Paris. Disconcerted for a mo- 
 ment by our abrupt flight at Strasbourg, 
 he had soon regained his courage, and 
 fortune smiled upon him here and threw 
 me in his way. 
 
 " Being curious to know the cause of 
 my being in Schonbrunn, he came up 
 close to the duke and me and overheard 
 our secret ; and lost no time in acquaint- 
 ing his master with the facts. 
 
 " All this time I was hidden behind the 
 hangings, powerless to act and hardly 
 able to suppress my sobs from time to 
 time fancying myself the victim of a 
 nightmare. When at daybreak the two 
 men took their departure, I had made my 
 resolutions. I had sat in judgment on 
 the spy, condemned him, and set a trap 
 to catch him. Blinded by his success 
 hitherto he has, as you see, rushed head- 
 long into it. 
 
 " That is my report. But if we have lost 
 the throne we can still have vengeance." 
 
 The duke, who all this time had lis- 
 I
 
 96 L'Aiglon 
 
 tened to Colette without making a move- 
 ment which could reveal his thoughts, 
 rose from his seat and, turning to Otto, 
 said : 
 
 " You have heard this girl's statement. 
 It is a grave charge indeed, and I believe 
 that it is useless to dwell more upon it. 
 But I have something to say to you on 
 my own account. 
 
 " Under the auspices of the Emperor, 
 my grandfather, you have betrayed my 
 confidence. In order to compromise me 
 more thoroughly you have pried into my 
 most secret thoughts and aspirations. 
 You have done worse than that. I was 
 ignorant of perfidy, and you have caused 
 me to lose my faith in human nature by 
 showing me the hollowness of friendship. 
 A shameful act for a nobleman for one 
 who wears a sword." 
 
 Silvere, hearing these words, emerged 
 from the shadow and exclaimed : 
 
 " He noble ! Not a bit of it, Monsei- 
 gneur. Listen.
 
 The Punishment 97 
 
 " The other evening after sunset I was 
 strolling in my garden, when I heard 
 several persons talking on the other side 
 of the wall. I am not very curious as a 
 rule, but I heard a name uttered that im- 
 mediately made me all attention. They 
 were speaking of this gentleman. 
 
 " Well, I heard fine things, certainly. 
 Two stable boys, thinking they were not 
 overheard, were speaking their minds 
 very freely. They criticised their respec- 
 tive masters in turn, and when it came to 
 this fellow's turn to receive a character, 
 this is what they said : That the noble was 
 no noble, the count no count; that the 
 sword he carried was like his nobility 
 a lie. They said that he was a blackleg 
 pardoned from jail one evening when 
 there was a demand for spies." 
 
 And turning to Otto, who in a fury 
 of rage was vainly trying to burst his 
 thongs, he added: 
 
 " What do you think about it, Mon- 
 sieur le Comte ? "
 
 98 L'Aiglon 
 
 In response to this thrust, the player 
 who had lost the game on which his life 
 was at stake stepped toward his judges. 
 
 But the duke rose again, and, ad- 
 dressing himself to the generals, said : 
 
 " Do you think that death will be 
 sufficient punishment for this man ? " 
 
 The two generals bowed in the affirma- 
 tive. 
 
 Colette thereupon mounted the steps 
 of the altar, removed her black veil, and 
 wrapped it like a winding sheet about 
 the immense bronze crucifix. When she 
 had come down to the floor again, Sil- 
 vere, turning to the duke, said : 
 
 " Monseigneur, if it is your will, I be- 
 lieve that we shall be able to put away 
 from the sight of men this worthless crea- 
 ture without soiling our hands with his 
 blood. Below this edifice there is a 
 crypt extending to a great depth. The 
 monks who formerly inhabited the build- 
 ing, following a custom which obtains in 
 certain religious houses in Spain and
 
 The Punishment 99 
 
 Italy, instead of burying their dead placed 
 them in the stalls of the subterranean 
 chapel. That place is devoted strictly to 
 the dead, and nothing can come there to 
 trouble the frightful stillness. 
 
 " I am the only person now living who 
 knows of the existence of this crypt, and 
 my knowledge is going to be of excellent 
 use to us." 
 
 The old soldier then stooped down and 
 brought forth from beneath the altar 
 steps the crowbar, and, by a slight pres- 
 sure, caused the stone slab to slide into the 
 grooves as the old monk had taught him 
 to do. The slab rocked unsteadily, and 
 a yawning cavity met the gaze of those 
 present. 
 
 Then, picking up a stout cord, he 
 passed it under the armpits of the spy. 
 
 The latter, who knew his last hour had 
 come, was terribly pale, but uttered no 
 word. 
 
 The duke, addressing him then for the 
 last time, said :
 
 ioo L'Aiglon 
 
 " If you have any last request to make, 
 or if you wish to pray, now is the time, for 
 I regret to say we need every moment." 
 
 Otto merely shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 One of the generals, raising his hand, 
 made a signal, and Otto disappeared in 
 the abyss, and the stone resumed its place 
 forever. 
 
 It was time. In the distance could be 
 heard the sound of troops. Silvere had 
 only time to strain Colette to his breast 
 and press the duke's hand ; then, catching 
 up a torch which he had lighted at the 
 swinging lamp, he disappeared within the 
 secret passage, followed by the generals. 
 
 A few minutes afterwards Metternich 
 and several officers entered the chapel. 
 To their great surprise, they found no 
 one there except the duke and Colette, 
 who were sitting on a rickety oak bench, 
 engaged in a conversation so engrossing 
 to them that they did not cease even when 
 the chancellor advanced and plied them 
 with questions.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 LOVE 
 
 THE conversation of the young 
 couple was not, as might be sup- 
 posed, a ruse to baffle suspicion. The 
 minds of Reichstadt and Colette were too 
 lofty to make use of such a subterfuge. 
 
 The young girl, who had seen her be- 
 loved project fail, instead of yielding to 
 despair, banished all remembrance of self, 
 and thought only of consoling the young 
 man sitting by her. 
 
 The duke, whom she had fondly hoped 
 to call the king the emperor and 
 whom she loved, had lost everything. 
 He had lost even hope. He was like an- 
 other Icarus deprived of his wings, and 
 destined to return to slavery ; she felt that 
 she was the only thing left to him in the
 
 IO2 L'Aiglon 
 
 world ; and she swore that she would take 
 possession of his 5911! and heal his 
 wounds. She would spend her life in 
 consoling 1 and making him happy. 
 
 This resolution being taken, she ac- 
 cepted the duke's arm and walked past 
 the group of officers who had fondly ex- 
 pected to capture the conspirators. A 
 few minutes after, the young couple had 
 left the monastery, where lay buried for- 
 ever the project which, if carried out, 
 would have overturned the world. 
 
 The moon had nearly reached the hori- 
 zon and the valley was in darkness. In 
 this solitude, perfumed by a host of flow- 
 ers offering themselves to the caresses of 
 the night, the young couple wandered as 
 if in a dream. No words passed between 
 them, but their hearts were singing. The 
 duke, with his arm around the young 
 girl, kept her from falling on the mossy 
 carpet. A tree blown across the road 
 offered them a seat, and eye to eye, lip 
 to lip, they sat down trembling.
 
 Love 103 
 
 They said nothing; their overcharged 
 hearts beat violently, and they under- 
 stood each other without words. 
 
 The duke was the first to recover him- 
 self. 
 
 " So," he said, " my dream is over. 
 Fortune has declared herself my enemy. 
 A few hours and I must put on the yoke 
 again that I hoped I had cast aside for- 
 ever. Dear father, if you could see me, 
 how grieved you would be ! The throne 
 that you meant me to have another will 
 possess, and, sad and disinherited, I will 
 drag through my unhappy days a humili- 
 ated slave bound to the chariot of the 
 conqueror. Until now I have been 
 buoyed up by hope and have been able 
 to endure the despicable present, but 
 there is no to-morrow for me now. Des- 
 tiny cruel, pitiless does not allow me 
 to think of the future. My heart is dead. 
 It seems as if my blood were turned to 
 ice. My arm, strong for almost super-
 
 104 L'Aiglon 
 
 'human tasks, is paralyzed and dead. I 
 can hardly hold the sword which I wear 
 by the irony of fate. It is only a dress 
 sword, and is fastened tight in the scab- 
 bard. My grief is so great that I am 
 afraid to weep." 
 
 And he laid his head on Colette's 
 bosom and sobbed as if his heart would 
 break. 
 
 The young girl took his head in her 
 two hands and kissed him reverently, as 
 a mother might. 
 
 " Dear one," she said, " your sorrow 
 cuts me to the soul ; your tears are pitiful 
 to see. I would give my own heart's 
 blood if I could stop them falling. Your 
 throne is lost, but Colette remains Co- 
 lette, Who will love you till you forget 
 everything. 
 
 " And some day, consoled, you will 
 look back to this night and will scout 
 the idea that a purple ribbon is worth 
 weeping for. 
 
 " I will be your mother, your darling
 
 Love 105 
 
 sister. A devoted mistress, I will make 
 in your soul a nest for me me only. 
 
 " In the warm summer days we will go 
 to beautiful Italy and will spend happy 
 days without care and without sadness. 
 When the winter comes we shall hear the 
 boatmen sing on the bay of Naples. 
 
 " Thus shall we grow old together ; and 
 when our heads are crowned with snow 
 we will go to God and continue there for 
 evermore our dream of love." 
 
 The duke listened, smiling, to the 
 charming voice of the siren, till the birds, 
 welcoming the sun, taught them it was 
 time to part.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 SILVERE 
 
 EICHSTADT and Colette had re- 
 turned to the chateau as if nothing 
 had happened, and taken up their usual 
 mode of life ; but Metternich acted differ- 
 ently. The chancellor, after his check, en- 
 tered the palace in a state of irritation dif- 
 ficult to imagine. He could not keep out 
 of his thoughts the scene in that devilish 
 monastery where, surrounded by his of- 
 ficers, he had been forced to confess that 
 he was foiled, and to accept the explana- 
 tions of Reichstadt with studied politeness. 
 He had been duped by two children. He, 
 who had for years played such an impor- 
 tant role on the European checkerboard, 
 had been successfully tricked like a coun-
 
 Silvere 107 
 
 tryman in a play. Just as he was going 
 to bag his game it had disappeared. 
 And then that spy, puffed up with vanity 
 and already bargaining for a reward, must 
 make a pitiable failure. He, Metternich, 
 usually so distrustful, and knowing that 
 every good quality has its compensating 
 vice, and that a trifling slip can shipwreck 
 the most carefully prepared plans, had 
 given carte blanche to this young man. 
 
 What had become of the fellow, any- 
 way ? Doubtless he had feared to be pun- 
 ished for his stupidity, and had left the 
 country and gone to play the same role 
 in a new scene. 
 
 It was a serious blow to the chancellor. 
 He was a proud man, before whom every 
 one was accustomed to give way. 
 
 Then what should he do with the duke, 
 a worthy son of his father, whom he had 
 left free to come and go in the vast do- 
 main of Schonbrunn, shutting his eyes to 
 his desires for independence, although he 
 had never ceased his surveillance over
 
 io8 L'Aiglon 
 
 him? How much better it would have 
 been if he had been put in a cell in the 
 Spielberg instead of being given this resi- 
 dence, open to all comers ; and he thought 
 of the part played in history by the Tower 
 of London and the prisons of Venice. 
 To confine the young man was not to be 
 thought of. Europe, which was breath- 
 ing again and enjoying the benefits of 
 a peace that it had been so long a 
 stranger to, would not hear of a restora- 
 tion which would upset all that ; but, on 
 the other hand, it would have demanded 
 a rigid account for innocent blood spilled. 
 He would think over it. 
 
 In the meantime he could vent his ill- 
 humor on some one ; and he sent for Sil- 
 vere. 
 
 The old soldier, after putting his com- 
 panions in a safe place, hastened to his 
 cottage, resolved to brave the storm if 
 necessary. 
 
 When he received the message to at- 
 tend the chancellor he obeyed without
 
 Silvere 109 
 
 fear, knowing that his conscience was 
 clear. 
 
 On seeing him enter, the chancellor, 
 who was striding up and down the room, 
 a prey to a rage all the greater for having 
 been restrained so long, folded his arms 
 and, giving him a look that would have 
 made any one else quail, said sharply : 
 
 " You probably wonder why I sent for 
 you so promptly." 
 
 Silvere, without losing aught of his 
 calmness, replied: 
 
 " If your Excellency has any charge to 
 make against me, I am ready to listen re- 
 spectfully. As an accused person, how- 
 ever, I shall reserve the right to call to 
 your attention anything that would count 
 in my favor." 
 
 " You talk too much, Mr. Soldier," ex- 
 claimed the prince, violently. " You have 
 been tolerated here too long, and to-mor- 
 row you can take yourself off." 
 
 " You will send me off " 
 
 " That is the idea exactly," returned
 
 no L'Aiglon 
 
 Metternich ; " and my only regret is that 
 you were ever permitted to enter the cha- 
 teau. If the Emperor, my august master, 
 had taken the wise advice that I contin- 
 ually gave him, you would have gone long 
 ago. But His Majesty, fearing to dis- 
 please his grandson, did not see the ne- 
 cessity of adopting that measure. It is 
 now absolutely necessary that you leave ; 
 and I am going to the Emperor at once ; 
 and I think I shall have little trouble in 
 inducing him to consent to your expul- 
 sion." 
 
 " Oh, Monseigneur," exclaimed Sil- 
 vere, " do not do that. You will kill my 
 young master if you take away from him 
 the poor old servant who has never aban- 
 doned him. It would be my death-blow, 
 too. I could not live if I were separated 
 from him. If you drive me away it is be- 
 cause you know I am a sentinel who is 
 watching you, and am able to divine your 
 sinister intentions. 
 , " Let me tell you something :
 
 Silvere in 
 
 " I was born a waif ; I have never 
 known what it is to be petted or caressed. 
 I have never received a parent's kiss. I 
 was brought up by charity, and I never 
 got enough food to satisfy my gnawing 
 hunger. Many is the time I have gone 
 out at nightfall and fought with prowling 
 dogs for a scrap of food cast away in the 
 gutter. I was never named, but I have 
 always been known as Silvere. Many a 
 time I have blushed to think what a sad 
 fate was mine. 
 
 " In time I became a soldier, and, for- 
 getting my troubles, I did my duty at the 
 front; my wounds will bear me out in 
 that. 
 
 " One day, after a battle, the Emperor 
 called me out of the ranks, shook me by 
 the hand, and gave me a badge of honor. 
 From that moment I became a different 
 creature. I began gradually to acquire 
 self-respect ; and I swore that I would die 
 for him. Fate, however, wished it other- 
 wise ; but, when I lost the father,! had still
 
 112 L'Aiglon 
 
 the son. I have taken my oath never 
 to leave him, and no one can make me 
 break it. 
 
 " That is all I have to say to you. May 
 I go?" 
 
 Metternich made a sign in the affirma- 
 tive, and Silvere left the room. 
 
 Had he gained his cause ?
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 WITH THE EMPEROR 
 
 THE head of the Austro-Hungarian 
 monarchy, His Majesty the Em- 
 peror Francis I., had just returned from 
 hearing mass in his private chapel ; and, 
 according to custom, was about to take 
 his daily walk in that portion of the park 
 reserved for his use, when, to his great 
 surprise, it was announced that the chan- 
 cellor wished to see him on a matter of 
 urgent importance. 
 
 Much puzzled at the request at so early 
 an hour, and suspecting that some matter 
 of grave importance was involved, the 
 Emperor ordered that he be admitted at 
 once. The chancellor was within the 
 apartment almost as soon as the message 
 was received. He still bore traces of the
 
 H4 L'Aiglon 
 
 violent anger to which he had yielded 
 traces which did not escape the keen 
 glance of the Emperor. 
 
 It will facilitate comprehension of Met- 
 ternich's action to go back a little. 
 
 After Silvere's departure, he sank into 
 one of those deep reveries from which he 
 customarily awoke prepared to combat 
 and overcome the difficulties in his way. 
 He had listened coldly to the expostula- 
 tions of the old soldier. His self-contained 
 nature had not been at all moved by the 
 pleadings of the servitor. In his long 
 career he had brushed aside and disre- 
 garded those sentiments which make up 
 so large a part of the life of humanity. 
 Sentiment, to him, was nothing unless 
 he could use it for his own purpose. 
 Love, hate, gratitude, friendship, were 
 merely varieties of tomfoolery. He 
 treated them as if they were strands in a 
 skein of wool. He tangled the skein or 
 disentangled it just as his interest de- 
 manded.
 
 With the Emperor 115 
 
 Now he reflected: There is love; why 
 not make use of that human weakness? 
 The duke was in love, and there could be 
 little doubt that the object of his passion 
 was the adopted child. Spurred on by 
 this sentiment, he might be able to burst 
 asunder the invisible shackles with which 
 he had been so ably held in check. If 
 he, Metternich, should oust Silvere and 
 forbid Colette access to the chateau, he 
 would arouse the anger of the duke, who 
 might adopt some of those desperate 
 measures that people take when crossed 
 in their love affairs. What would be the 
 good of turning them away when there 
 was an easier course to pursue? Was 
 there not at his beck and call an exquisite 
 creature, just made for love, whose beauty 
 could not fail to produce its effect on the 
 duke? She had all the qualities neces- 
 sary for his purpose. She was trust- 
 worthy; she was discreet, and she was 
 capable of easily comprehending what 
 was required of her.
 
 n 6 L'Aiglon 
 
 But, in order to procure her access to 
 the chateau, and throw her in Reich- 
 stadt's way, it was essential that she be 
 attached to the service of the archduch- 
 ess; and to accomplish that, the consent 
 of the Emperor must be obtained. 
 
 The Emperor opened the conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 " Your Excellency must have had some 
 very important matter to communicate 
 when you asked me to receive you with- 
 out being summoned. Does a danger 
 threaten the monarchy? Is there some 
 new combination which augurs ill to the 
 peace which we are now enjoying, and for 
 which we paid so dear ? " 
 
 " Sire," replied Metternich, " Your 
 Majesty is not unaware of the difficulties 
 I have had and which the Allies have had 
 in imposing peace. The death of Bona- 
 parte rendered our task less difficult, 
 Europe was beginning to breathe more 
 freely, and the wars of the past had left 
 but slight traces, and even those were
 
 With the Emperor 117 
 
 gradually dying out. Everything was 
 going along well until yesterday, when 
 one of those unexpected things happened 
 which nearly nullified all these years of 
 labor. 
 
 " A young man, a child almost, was at 
 the bottom of the matter. But I was 
 watching his every step ; I knew at each 
 hour of the day what he was doing ; and at 
 the critical moment I reached forth my 
 hand, when the plot vanished like mist 
 before the sun. Who knows, however, 
 if the next time I shall be so fortunate? 
 Every precaution must be taken. If I 
 had not been on my guard, Europe would 
 have been on fire, and do you know what 
 would have emerged from the conflagra- 
 tion?" 
 
 " This is terrible news," exclaimed the 
 Emperor. 
 
 " Your Majesty may reassure your- 
 self; but I am bound to tell you what 
 would have arisen out of the ruins it 
 would have been the Empire. The Em-
 
 n8 L'Aiglon 
 
 pire of which Napoleon dreamed would 
 have been un fait accompli. With the 
 Treaty of Paris torn to shreds and the 
 July monarchy gone to the dogs, the 
 King of Rome would have returned to 
 the Tuileries to the sound of the drum. 
 We were close to it. 
 
 " But your Majesty does not ask me 
 the name of this young man." 
 
 " I know who it is," replied the Em- 
 peror, wearily ; " but what do you intend 
 to do?" 
 
 " I have thought very deeply over 
 the subject," replied Metternich, " and 
 this is the result : Will your Majesty 
 sign this paper? It appoints the Coun- 
 tess Maria Assunta San-Severina to 
 the place of dame d'honneur attached 
 to the person of the Archduchess So- 
 phia." 
 
 The Emperor appended his signature 
 to the paper without a moment's loss of 
 time. Then he said : 
 
 " This order won't assist you much in
 
 With the Emperor 119 
 
 carrying out your purpose, but that is 
 your affair." 
 
 Metternich, without replying, took the 
 order of appointment, and, bowing re- 
 spectfully, left the room.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 LA SAN-SEVERINA 
 
 TOWARD the end of the winter of 
 1801, a dansen.se named Frago- 
 letta was the delight of the habitufo of the 
 Grand Theatre of Venice. The Vene- 
 tians, who are warm admirers of the bal- 
 let, had rarely seen such a sylph on the 
 boards of their favorite theatre. Every 
 evening, after being repeatedly recalled 
 before the curtain, she entered her gon- 
 dola and disappeared mysteriously from 
 the sight of the swains who were left 
 sighing for her in vain. 
 
 The most contradictory stories were 
 current concerning the beautiful dan- 
 seuse. According to some, she was abso- 
 lutely circumspect, and lived in retire- 
 ment with her mother in a secluded part
 
 La San-Severina 121 
 
 of the city. Other reports had it that she 
 was deeply smitten with a gondolier, 
 and despised the attentions of the noble 
 and wealthy; that every evening she was 
 borne away in her lover's craft, and en- 
 joyed a devoted love in an obscure 
 lodging-house. In Venice people live for 
 love and music; and it is the city par 
 excellence where little secrets, like the 
 pigeons of St. Mark's, fly rapidly about, 
 and make their appearance suddenly in 
 widely separated places. 
 
 As a matter of fact, both rumors were 
 unfounded. 
 
 The ballerina, at the age of sixteen, had 
 distinguished with her favor a noble 
 Venetian, whose ancestors for many years 
 had filled the highest places in the repub- 
 lic. His family, however, without going 
 to the wall, had, like many others of the 
 great houses, suffered through the mis- 
 fortunes of the country, and been obliged 
 to dispose of a large portion of their es- 
 tate. They were able to still make a good
 
 122 L'Aiglon 
 
 appearance, and keep their numerous re- 
 tainers in the antechambers of their pal- 
 ace on the Grand Canal, but it was only 
 by reducing to the lowest possible notch 
 the income of the young count. 
 
 This young man, Orio San-Severino, 
 felt it therefore necessary that he should 
 hide his infatuation for the danseuse, 
 as his friends had not failed to im- 
 press on him the necessity of his making 
 an alliance with a daughter of one of the 
 wealthy families, that he might restore 
 his family to its former splendor. 
 
 If he had had brothers and sisters the 
 young man would have probably yielded 
 to their arguments and married some 
 heiress; but, being the last of his race, and 
 little inclined to purchase wealth in a 
 manner that seemed to him little else than 
 a disgraceful bargain, he preferred to re- 
 main poor but free. Fragoletta returned 
 to him a hundred-fold that which he sac- 
 rificed for her. Loving the count more 
 than anything except her Creator, she
 
 La San-Severina 123 
 
 made each day a new revelation of love 
 for him. She was an accomplished musi- 
 cian, and she spent such time as she was 
 not occupied at the theatre in producing 
 the most delightful harmonies until far 
 on into the night. 
 
 Thus they lived, ecstatically happy, in 
 that fortunate land, where the delights 
 of art are within the reach of all. Venice, 
 with its noble monuments of the past ; its 
 magnificent palaces standing sentinel 
 over the canals; its myriad of gondolas 
 gliding over the lagoon like swallows 
 grazing the waves, is certainly the local- 
 ity best adapted to art; and the Ital- 
 ian temperament, devotedly attached to 
 music, poetry, and painting, manifests 
 itself here as nowhere else. The lovers 
 made full use of these bounteous oppor- 
 tunities. 
 
 To still further add to their happiness, 
 a child was born to them a little pink- 
 and-white darling, who was to share their 
 warm nest.
 
 124 L'Aiglon 
 
 But the Death Angel was not far off. 
 
 One evening Fragoletta, on coming 
 out of the theatre, after a performance 
 where the opera-goers were more than 
 usually enthusiastic, expressed a desire to 
 go to the Lido to enjoy the free, fresh air. 
 Soon after her return home she became 
 ill; a few days afterward Orio and the 
 child were alone in their rooms ; the soul 
 of the little family had departed. 
 
 The bereaved count bestowed on the 
 child the tenderness that he had felt for 
 the mother. He acknowledged her as 
 his own, though by so doing he broke 
 with his family. 
 
 Some time after Fragoletta's death he 
 inherited an estate of considerable value, 
 and was thus enabled to live in a manner 
 consistent with his dignity and self-re- 
 spect. He continued, however, to live for 
 his daughter alone. Abandoning that 
 world for which he had never had a very 
 exalted respect, young as he was, he se- 
 cluded himself in the palace he had inher-
 
 La San-Severina 125 
 
 ited, and, like another Pygmalion, de- 
 voted himself to the forming of an ideal 
 Galatea. The young girl grew up to be 
 like one of those masterpieces created by 
 Titian or Giorgione, which are the glory 
 of Italy. Over the ivory bust hung daz- 
 zling hair which seemed to have im- 
 prisoned within it the ardent rays of the 
 Venetian sun a royal mantle, with which 
 jealous Nature strove to conceal the har- 
 monies of her virgin figure from the gaze 
 of the profane. 
 
 Such, at sixteen, was the Countess 
 Maria Assunta San-Severina. Her 
 father, in addition to taking every means 
 to develop her physical beauty, had se- 
 cured for her education the most cele- 
 brated professors who could be found in 
 Italy. The girl was a ready pupil am- 
 bitious and gifted with unusual intelli- 
 gence ; and she profited to the full by their 
 instructions. 
 
 His work was finished, and the count, 
 who had never recovered from the loss of
 
 126 L'Aiglon 
 
 his mistress, feeling his occupation gone, 
 passed away one summer evening, bless- 
 ing the child who had, in some part, con- 
 soled him for his loss. 
 
 The young girl now felt herself indeed 
 alone. 
 
 The count's family, which had never 
 pardoned him for his infatuation, thought 
 it would not be a difficult task to cheat 
 the child out of the estate left by her 
 father. The girl had no relations, except 
 a sister of her mother, with whom she at 
 once went to reside, being unable to live 
 alone in the old palace, where everything 
 reminded her of her loss. 
 
 It was at the dwelling-place of this 
 aunt that a lawyer's clerk, acting in behalf 
 of her father's family, visited her and at- 
 tempted to induce her to sign away most 
 of her rights. Ignorant of the legal as- 
 pects of the case, and recognizing that her 
 adversaries, with their great influence, 
 would have little trouble in a contest with 
 a friendless girl, she was ready to agree
 
 La San-Severina 127 
 
 to a compromise which left her hardly 
 enough to support herself, when some- 
 thing entirely unexpected came to renew 
 her courage and change the course of her 
 ideas. 
 
 One morning, after returning from 
 mass at St. Mark's, she crossed the Place, 
 modestly veiled and accompanied by the 
 woman with whom she had taken up her 
 abode, when, face to face, she met the 
 Prince de Metternich, who, as it hap- 
 pened, was just returning from Milan. 
 Transfixed by the beauty of the young 
 girl, he made some inquiries and soon 
 learned everything about her. He had 
 formerly known the Count Orio, and had 
 always admired the nobility of his char- 
 acter, though he did not imitate it. He 
 had never forgotten him, though he had 
 not seen him for many years. 
 
 Upon learning that the young girl was 
 in danger of losing her patrimony, his 
 hard heart was softened for the first time. 
 He investigated the claims of the count's
 
 128 L'Aiglon 
 
 family, assured himself that they were not 
 founded in justice, and, by his powerful 
 influence, succeeded in having the case 
 dropped. The girl, upon learning the 
 role that Metternich had played in the 
 matter, thanked him and promised that 
 she would do anything in her power to 
 requite his kindness. 
 
 Such was the jewel which the wily dip- 
 lomat designed to take out of its case 
 and make sparkle under the chandeliers 
 of Schonbrunn. He had little doubt that 
 she would captivate the Duke of Reich- 
 stadt, and dispel from his mind all 
 thoughts of France and Colette.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE TEMPTER 
 
 UPON receiving the letter from Met- 
 ternich directing her to come at 
 once to the imperial residence of Schon- 
 brunn the young countess was both as- 
 tonished and delighted. It was not sur- 
 prising to her that the chancellor should 
 have constituted himself her defender, in 
 view of the kind feelings that he enter- 
 tained toward her father ; but she had not 
 supposed that his kindness would reach 
 to the extent of withdrawing her from her 
 obscurity and placing her in such an en- 
 viable position with the archduchess a 
 position usually reserved for those with 
 more quarterings in their coats-of-arms 
 than she possessed. Her father, to be 
 sure, was noble ; but then her mother was 
 9
 
 130 L'Aiglon 
 
 a dancer. She knew that people of the 
 theatre, even those of the purest char- 
 acter, were excluded from society. It is 
 not surprising, therefore, that the young 
 girl felt many misgivings as to how she 
 would be received by the high-born 
 women with whom she was about to be 
 brought into contact. 
 
 Delighted she certainly was; for, hav- 
 ing lived all her life out of the world with 
 her father, she had seen little of the 
 beauties of Venice. 
 
 Yielding to destiny, she put her affairs 
 in order, made her preparations for de- 
 parture, and, after a last visit to the little 
 cemetery where reposed the remains of 
 those she loved so well, she set forth on 
 her journey with the woman whom Met- 
 ternich had sent to accompany her. 
 
 It was in vain that, during the course 
 of their long journey, she tried to draw 
 out her companion, a German woman in 
 the pay of the chancellor. The woman 
 took refuge in an obstinate silence. Vexed
 
 The Tempter 131 
 
 and little disposed to look at the future 
 favorably, the countess almost regretted 
 having obeyed a man of whom she knew 
 so little. Carelessness, the characteristic 
 of youth, and a desire for novelty soon 
 drove away the light clouds, however, 
 and she gave a thankful sigh when they 
 came into view of the chateau. 
 
 She had been hardly an hour in the 
 apartment reserved for her when she was 
 sent for by the chancellor. 
 
 The wily old man, with a view of win- 
 ning over the young girl, had thrown off 
 that mask of severity which he could as- 
 sume at will, and it was in the most pa- 
 ternal manner that he inquired as to her 
 health and the incidents of the journey. 
 
 " I cannot tell you," he said, " how 
 grateful I am for your prompt compli- 
 ance with my request, and I believe I shall 
 be able to prove my gratitude. It will be 
 best for you to rest for a few days, so that 
 you may familiarize yourself with matters 
 here, and become acquainted with the
 
 132 L'Aiglon 
 
 persons you must associate with. I sent 
 for you so promptly because I desired to 
 give you some instructions as to how to 
 conduct yourself with these people. Be- 
 fore going into that, however, it is neces- 
 sary for me to impress upon you that you 
 must follow my requirements blindly if 
 you wish to live peacefully and not be- 
 come a victim of female intrigue. Such 
 things are not dangerous in themselves, 
 but they would wear you out and cause 
 you finally to give up your place here." 
 
 " Monseigneur," said the countess, " I 
 will make it my business to see that you 
 are satisfied with me in every particular." 
 
 " I expected no less," returned the 
 chancellor. " Now, I believe it is best 
 that I go back to our first interview in 
 Venice. When I saw you first I was 
 literally dazzled by your beauty." 
 
 Noticing the girl blushing, he hastened 
 to add : 
 
 " My age and the friendship 'I had for 
 your father permit me to speak with free-
 
 The Tempter 133 
 
 dom, without causing you offence. I 
 made inquiry, and had no trouble in 
 learning all about you. Then I went to 
 work, and was fortunate enough to stop 
 the unjust proceedings that your father's 
 people had instituted against you. 
 
 " If I bring these facts up again, it is 
 not to appeal to your gratitude, but to let 
 you know what plans I at once sketched 
 out for you. 
 
 " Now I am coming to the matter in 
 hand. 
 
 " When Fate put an end to the power 
 of Napoleon, and banished him forever 
 to that isle where he breathed his last, 
 the Emperor Francis I. could do noth- 
 ing else than receive at court the son 
 born of an unfortunate union of the 
 Archduchess Marie Louise with the 
 Usurper. 
 
 " At first there was little trouble in 
 managing the boy; 'he had but a slight 
 recollection of his father, and that would 
 have faded out in time. Unfortunately,
 
 134 L'Aiglon 
 
 the archduchess, who should have had 
 nothing more to do with France, brought 
 two young Frenchmen here in her suite ; 
 and from that moment the security which 
 we were experiencing disappeared for- 
 ever. These young men interested them- 
 selves in the studies of the Duke of 
 Reichstadt so called after the city of 
 Reichstadt, which he had received as an 
 appanage. At every hour of the day they 
 were coming and going in the chateau ; 
 they were constantly getting up riding 
 and fencing parties with him; and thus, 
 under pretence of perfecting him in 
 physical exercises, they opened to him 
 a new horizon by detailing to him the 
 deeds of his father. 
 
 " I was not informed how things were 
 going until it was too late. I lost no time 
 in packing the Frenchmen home again, 
 but the evil was done; and since then 
 matters have gone from bad to worse. 
 
 " You are the one I have chosen to 
 remedy this.
 
 The Tempter 135 
 
 " In this vast imperial residence, where 
 everything seems to have gone to sleep, 
 as in a fairy story, there is going to be 
 a stupendous change. There are to be 
 hunts, tournaments, and fetes, and there 
 must be a queen to preside over them 
 a Queen of Beauty, you understand 
 and this queen is to be no other than 
 yourself. 
 
 " Will you refuse ? If you do, you will 
 make a great mistake. The duke is 
 young, amiable, and handsome. And 
 then a ducal crown is not to be despised. 
 Why should you not be a duchess some 
 day? That is better than your title of 
 countess, which is more or less con- 
 testable. 
 
 " You are silent ; but I read in your 
 eyes that you will accept. I warn you that 
 you will have no easy task. You have a 
 rival already. Before you came the duke 
 had begun an intrigue with a young 
 French girl, whose habitation you can 
 see from here."
 
 136 L'Aiglon 
 
 And, raising the curtain, he showed her 
 Silvere's eottage. 
 
 " It is in that cottage, to tell you the 
 truth, that the greatest part of our trou- 
 bles have been hatched. 
 
 " Now you are young and beautiful. 
 I believe you have understood me." 
 
 And, as she made no reply, he took her 
 hand and said : 
 
 " Be irresistible, and we will make you 
 a duchess. 
 
 " Now go to rest. If you stay up longer 
 your complexion will suffer, and those 
 pink roses in your cheeks will fade. 
 Adieu till I see you again." 
 
 She departed; and Metternich rubbed 
 his hands and laughed in the manner that 
 Goethe has made Mephistopheles do. 
 
 The shameless tempter had carried up 
 to the top of the mountain that young 
 soul which he had judged could be 
 bought by ambition. If events answered 
 to his hopes, the duke, enmeshed in an 
 amorous intrigue, captivated by the
 
 The Tempter 137 
 
 charms of the new siren, would bid adieu 
 to ambition ; and Colette, wounded in her 
 first love and outraged in her pride, 
 would refuse to remain and be a witness 
 to the triumph of her rival. She would 
 leave Schonbrunn, taking Silvere with 
 her. 
 
 Thus, without a contest and without a 
 scene, Metternich would attain his end.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 FAILURE 
 
 IN planting in the countess's heart the 
 seed which was to bear the fruit 
 suited to his ambitious views, the chan- 
 cellor had been guided by that marvellous 
 perspicacity which never failed him in his 
 choice of the most fitting instruments to 
 carry out his views. How delighted he 
 would have been could he have read to 
 the depths of her soul, and seen how 
 everything had yielded before the smil- 
 ing perspective that he had shown her. 
 
 Maria Assunta had, until that time, 
 passed a calm, retired existence. Igno- 
 rant of life, and absorbed in the studies 
 which occupied her entirely, she had 
 never had the time to consider the future. 
 The proposals of Metternich had caused
 
 Failure 139 
 
 her astonishment ; but that feeling was of 
 but short duration. She quickly stifled 
 the voice of conscience, which told her 
 that she did wrong to listen to him and 
 consent to be a party to an enterprise of 
 which the end was not difficult to divine. 
 Her ambition was aroused, and it was 
 with hearty good-will that she set about 
 preparing to play the part assigned her. 
 
 Everything was made easy for her. 
 The very day after her arrival the chan- 
 cellor provided her with an abigail, who 
 at once ordered from Vienna the most 
 becoming dresses, and court costumes 
 of fabulous richness and splendor. 
 
 The fetes began. At first they con- 
 sisted merely of hunting parties. Not 
 knowing how to ride (an accomplishment 
 not required in Venice), she had to remain 
 in the chateau ; and she soon learned all 
 about the building. 
 
 The duke, up to this time, had con- 
 cerned himself little with what was going 
 on ; but, having met her one day in one of
 
 140 L'Aiglon 
 
 the galleries, he was so much impressed 
 with her beauty that he could not refrain 
 from making some inquiries about her. 
 From that time she had always the shad- 
 owy feeling that he was interested in her. 
 Something which happened a few days 
 afterward could not but confirm that 
 idea. 
 
 The aristocratic ladies attached to the 
 person of the archduchess had beheld 
 with vexation the indefinable charms of 
 this stranger, who attracted the admira- 
 tion of every one. The aides-de-camp, 
 who formed the greater part of the men at 
 the imperial residence, and who were able 
 to refuse nothing to the fair sex, entered 
 into a plot against the newcomer ; and one 
 evening she found herself face to face with 
 the breakers that the chancellor had 
 warned her of. Upon the order of the 
 Archduchess Sophia, la San-Severina was 
 to sing the finale of the " Servante Mai- 
 tresse " of Paisiello. The feeling and 
 brio which she showed in the interpre-
 
 Failure 14 1 
 
 tation of this difficult morceau would or- 
 dinarily have called forth the enthusiastic 
 bravas of the assembly. Instead of that, 
 however, a dead silence succeeded the last 
 note ; and when she left the harpsichord 
 to return to her place no one offered his 
 arm to lead her there. 
 
 The duke, who was present, perceiving 
 the ignominious manner in which the 
 young girl was treated, and wishing to 
 give the Austrians a lesson which he 
 thought their haughty arrogance de- 
 manded, stepped quickly to her side, and, 
 offering her his arm in the most cour- 
 teous manner, conducted her to her chair 
 be'hind the archduchess. 
 
 The ice was broken. 
 
 The first thing the next morning the 
 countess's abigail knocked at her door 
 and presented her, with the compliments 
 of the Prince de Metternich, a superb fan 
 adorned with dainty miniatures by Wat- 
 teau. At the bottom of the sandal-wood 
 box containing the gift was a brief note
 
 142 L'Aiglon 
 
 in the chancellor's writing. She read the 
 following : 
 
 " Now is the time ; act." 
 
 It was the middle of September; and 
 the grove where two incidents of this 
 story have already occurred had not yet 
 lost its leaves. The colors of the trees 
 had undergone a change, and the gold of 
 autumn had succeeded to the green of 
 summer. 
 
 It had occurred to the duke to visit 
 again the temple where he had lost his 
 heart. Perhaps he had expected to meet 
 Colette there ; certainly he was much sur- 
 prised to see what he did. La San-Se- 
 verina, beautiful as the morning, was 
 seated on the marble bench and seemed to 
 him like another Diana the Huntress, 
 who had laid aside for a moment her bow 
 and arrows that she might enjoy like a 
 simple mortal the beauty of the day. 
 
 Upon seeing the duke she blushed, as 
 if surprised in a wrong action, and made 
 a movement as if to retire. The duke,
 
 Failure 143 
 
 however, begged her not to go, and sat 
 down at her side. 
 
 " Monseigneur," said she, " I bless the 
 chance that brought you here. I shall 
 never forget the important service your 
 Excellency rendered me in putting a stop 
 to the insulting scene of which I was the 
 victim, and which, I beg you to believe, 
 I had done nothing to deserve. My 
 chagrin was so great that I believe I 
 hardly said anything at the time. I 
 take the opportunity to make amends 
 now, and I thank you from the bottom of 
 my heart. I have always been told that 
 you are generous and noble, and I know 
 now that I was not deceived." 
 
 " Mon Dieu, mademoiselle," he replied, 
 " you exaggerate the importance of the 
 very slight courtesy I was able to render 
 you. You were alone, a prey to the 
 malevolence that its authors did not take 
 the trouble to conceal. I was an indig- 
 nant witness of that cowardly attack. I 
 simply intervened as a Frenchman and a
 
 144 L'Aiglon 
 
 gentleman. If you 'had had a brother 
 present he would have done no less." 
 
 " A brother," said the young girl ; 
 " alas, I have none. I am alone in the 
 world. If I had a friend " 
 
 And she underlined the last few words 
 with a look of languor, as she moved 
 closer to him. 
 
 " A day will come," said the duke, 
 " when you will have a faithful and de- 
 voted one, and you will be able to laugh 
 at these silly people. You will be every- 
 thing to him; and nothing, except his 
 honor, will be so precious to him. At 
 every hour in the day your dear image 
 will be present with him, and he will 
 tremble at the sound of your footfall." 
 
 " What you say to me," she replied, 
 " makes the blood course through my 
 veins like molten lava. An ardor which I 
 have never experienced before suffuses 
 me and makes my tongue powerless 
 to utter the words which would explain 
 my thought. Oh, what a lover you are !
 
 Failure 145 
 
 And how happy will the life of that 
 woman be who spends her days with you ; 
 for each day will be a festival to her ; she 
 will not know what envy is, nor what is 
 meant by hate; she will know no other 
 universe; you will be her all, her king 
 and her god. 
 
 " And when you die, she will follow 
 you, for her life would be darkness " 
 
 The duke said not a word. 
 
 Disconcerted and mortified by his 
 silence, she rose up. Reichstadt took 
 her by the hand and made her sit down 
 again ; then he said : 
 
 " I understand your emotion, but I did 
 not wish to give you to understand that it 
 is I who love in that manner. She is a 
 simple girl, the daughter of a soldier. If 
 you lean forward, you can see the cotbage 
 where she lives. One May morning I 
 gave her my heart in this very grove, and 
 I have never sought to have it returned 
 to me. Fortune has separated us ; but, in 
 spite of all obstacles, I love her, for she is
 
 146 L'Aiglon 
 
 simple and true ; and her lofty soul is the 
 emblem of my beloved France, forever 
 lost to me/' 
 
 The countess saw clearly that this 
 stricken heart belonged solely to Colette, 
 and that her coquetry had been a waste 
 of time, 
 
 She bowed respectfully to him, and re- 
 turned to the chateau to report to her 
 protector that their hopes were ship- 
 wrecked.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE VISION 
 
 IT is winter. 
 The cold has come, and a storm, 
 which is every minute becoming more se- 
 vere, has made havoc in the park and 
 gardens of Schonbrunn. The wind bends 
 over great trees as if they were saplings, 
 demolishes the groves, and beats at the 
 giant walls of the chateau as if it would 
 cast them to the earth. 
 
 In the venerable pile many lights can 
 be seen coming and going, carried by 
 nervous and trembling hands. How dif- 
 ferent this night from that spring even- 
 ing when the pale light of a student's 
 lamp glimmered in the apartment of 
 L'Aiglon. 
 
 The tempest, which has all its own
 
 148 L'Aiglon 
 
 way outside, seems to have taken pos- 
 session of the palace within, so extreme 
 is the agitation there. In the spacious 
 galleries servants hurry hither and thither, 
 silent and busy. Up the mafble steps 
 leading to the grand entrance an old man, 
 surrounded by priests and attendants, ad- 
 vances solemnly under the bobbing lights 
 of the candles, stopping from time to 
 time to bestow a benediction on the faith- 
 ful who kneel before him. 
 
 It is the Archbishop of Vienna, who 
 is come to administer extreme unction; 
 for one has arrived in the chateau who 
 comes to visit all of this world, poor and 
 rich ; and his name is Death. 
 
 The Duke of Reichstadt, whom his 
 proud father at his birth named the King 
 of Rome, in a few short hours will have 
 lived his span of life. Having nothing 
 more to hope from destiny, the captive 
 Eaglet is unable to reconcile himself to 
 the thought of living ; and, at the bottom 
 of the page where history shall treat of
 
 The Vision 149 
 
 his life, future generations will read these 
 words : " He never reigned." 
 
 Poor exile ! There was but one person 
 on earth to treat him with tenderness 
 a woman, almost a child ; every one else 
 acted with indifference; and without 
 sympathy he could not live. To his en- 
 emies his death will be a relief, for they 
 feared him. 
 
 Since that fatal night, when a traitor 
 blocked his way to power, he became a 
 prey to an overpowering weariness. He 
 could no longer endure the monotony of 
 existence ; and, in spite of the encourage- 
 ment of Silvere and the tender consola- 
 tion of Colette, he could do naught but 
 count the slow hours. A terrible malady 
 made his last days still more gloomy. It 
 sat at his pillow and kept him awake ; it 
 besieged him without a pause ; it hollowed 
 his cheeks and chiselled deep wrinkles on 
 his brow ; and, raising the curtain which 
 conceals the future, it showed him the 
 grim monster which awaited him.
 
 150 L'Aiglon 
 
 To die so young! To dream such a 
 glorious destiny and then end in nothing ! 
 The young of the Eagle, he must pass 
 away, far from his own aerie, in the nest 
 of a stranger ! 
 
 The malady every day grows more se- 
 vere, and he is filled with horror of the 
 great palace, a twin of the marble tomb 
 where, to-morrow, he will be laid away to 
 sleep. If he could warm himself in the 
 sun's rays ; if he could but descend to the 
 park and talk with Silvere and sport once 
 more with Colette ! But that is impos- 
 sible, for winter is here. The flowers are 
 gone, and in the grove, sweet birthplace 
 of his love for Colette, the leaves are 
 blown away by the harsh blasts. 
 
 Like the grove itself, the young girl 
 has suffered. Misery has added years to 
 her age years which count double, for 
 the past seems to have extended back 
 infinitely. 
 
 Yesterday the young man forced him- 
 self to read ; he took up one by one those
 
 The Vision 151 
 
 bulletins where the name of his father, 
 inscribed on every page, recalls some vic- 
 tory. He laid them down again. What 
 was the use of it now? 
 
 Feeling that his end had come, the duke 
 sent for the two faithful friends who had 
 partaken of his evil fortune. At this 
 solemn moment he wished to hold their 
 hands in his and delude himself with 
 the idea that he was dying in his own 
 land. 
 
 The storm increases in intensity, and 
 his agony redoubles. He dozes off for a 
 moment, but suddenly awakes. 
 
 In that supreme moment when the 
 dying, forgetful of the present, see into 
 the Beyond, his face, worn out with suf- 
 fering, emaciated by watching, recovers, 
 for a fleeting instant, its former beauty. 
 His eyes, dim with the approach of death, 
 become clear, and his pale lips recover 
 their old-time color. Colette and Silvere 
 hold him up in their arms. Then the 
 voice of the duke, loud and vibrant,
 
 152 L'Aiglon 
 
 sounds forth in the silence of 'the night 
 above the thunders of heaven's artil- 
 lery : 
 
 " What marvellous spectacle is that? 
 
 " The fogs of winter have disappeared 
 forever, and the balmy air of spring 
 caresses my hair. 
 
 " I have had a sad dream. God ! how 
 long it lasted ! 
 
 " I dreamed I was sad and alone, 
 and that I was a slave. I was chained 
 to a rock, and the sea-waves beat below 
 me. 
 
 " As they receded they left at my feet 
 monsters of frightful aspect which 
 mocked me, powerless. 
 
 " That dream ended an enormous 
 eagle, with outstretched pinions, de- 
 scended from the vault of heaven and 
 broke my bonds, scattered my enemies, 
 and placed me at liberty. Since that 
 blessed hour what weary leagues I have 
 travelled ! 
 
 " Methought a gentle hand guided me
 
 The Vision 153 
 
 on my way. How many times in the 
 night, under the vault of heaven, the stars 
 for lamps, have I felt a warm breath 
 fanning my brow ! 
 
 " But I have reached the end. 
 
 " The walls of the chateau have dis- 
 appeared, and France is present and 
 awaits some one. And he for whom 
 they are waiting and for whom the pon- 
 tiff prepares the sacred chrism is my- 
 self, the son of the Eagle. 
 
 " I feel my wings. Let the rush of bat- 
 tle inspire the notes of the organ and 
 make it thunder forth a song. I advance 
 to the sound of a warlike march ; the flags 
 of France bend before me. The soul of 
 France seems to animate their folds. It 
 hovers over me, and I feel a shudder 
 which almost bursts my heart. 
 
 " But who are those two female forms 
 at my side ? 
 
 " I remember. 
 
 " One day, a young girl whom I loved 
 told me that, still a child, her mother had
 
 154 L'Aiglon 
 
 read the story of the shepherdess sent by 
 heaven to deliver France. 
 
 " She is at my side Joan, the shepherd 
 girl. 
 
 " But the other ; who is she ? A child 
 of the people who made the Huns pause, 
 and said to Attila, ' No farther shalt thou 
 go.' She saved Paris from sack and pil- 
 lage. God sent her to me that I might 
 take her hand and come to Him. 
 
 " But a black cloud covers the sky. 
 I see a black marsh, and from it ser- 
 pents issue forth. Good God, grant that 
 they may not come near me ! 
 
 " They are gone. 
 
 " Tell me, dear Colette, do you remem- 
 ber those fleeting hours when under the 
 stars we lived, lived? 
 
 " ' Thus shall we grow old together, 
 and when our heads are crowned with 
 snow we will go to God and continue 
 there for evermore our dream of love/ 
 
 " My father awaits me, and I must join
 
 The Vision 155 
 
 him ; but thou wilt come, too I love thee 
 so!" 
 
 The vision had ended. 
 L'Aiglon had lived. 
 
 Silvere, restraining his tears, left Co- 
 lette to her grief, and, drawing forth from 
 a secret drawer of the desk a tri-color, 
 spread it reverently over the body. In its 
 folds, blackened by powder and torn by 
 shot, Reichstadt was to sleep forever, 
 carrying with him to his foreign grave 
 something of the France he had lost. 
 
 Just as Silvere finished his task the 
 door opened quietly. 
 
 On the threshold stood Metternich. 
 
 At the sight the soldier started as if 
 stung; and, placing himself before the 
 couch where the duke reposed, he said to 
 the intruder: 
 
 " Monseigneur, your task is per- 
 formed; rejoice and be glad. But do 
 not tempt God by remaining here.
 
 156 L'Aiglon 
 
 " Do you see that kneeling woman ? 
 It is France who weeps. 
 
 " Go ! Your presence is an insult to 
 her woe."
 
 Press of J. J. Littlr A Co., 
 Astor Place, New York.
 
 A 000052028 8