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"And the lady?"
"His niece."
"You have met her?"
"Not I. They care nothing for such as we. He treats us as if we were of the sc.u.m of the earth, dogs. Oh, if only----"
"Hush," said Marteau. "It is dangerous."
"I know. And he brought with him an Englishman, one of the Duke of Wellington's officers."
"Is he married to the young lady?"
"Not yet, I believe, but betrothed."
"And his name?"
"He has a barbarous name. I can't p.r.o.nounce it. He had us out inspecting us yesterday--he and that Englishman. Bah! To think of the Fifth-of-the-Line being inspected by such a young red-coated c.o.c.kerel."
The veteran spat in the dust as the soldier had done and swore roundly.
He hated the red-coated English. He had fought them before, and he would like nothing better than to fight them again.
"Patience," said Marteau.
"Do you wish to go to headquarters and report yourself? You were a Major on the Emperor's staff?"
"A Lieutenant-Colonel, by personal appointment that day at Arcis."
"Well, you will be lucky enough if they make you a subaltern. Look at me. I am older than you. I am a veteran of Italy and I am only a sub-lieutenant, I, who was Captain when I was captured."
"Patience, my friend," said Marteau again.
"Here," said the officer, hailing a cabriolet, which suddenly turned the corner.
"I have no money," said Marteau quickly.
"The King pays ill enough," answered the officer, "but what I have is ever at the service of a good comrade."
He a.s.sisted Marteau into the cabriolet, allowed Pierre to climb up beside him, paid the driver his fare, and bade him take the two to the headquarters in the barracks.
CHAPTER XVII
A VETERAN OF THE ARMY OF ITALY
It was noon when Marteau presented himself before the house in which the Major of the first battalion, an old veteran named Lestoype, was quartered.
"Who shall I say wants to see him?" asked the orderly before the door.
"A soldier of the Empire," was the bold answer, and it proved an open sesame to the astonished orderly.
Lestoype was writing at a table, but he looked up when Marteau came in.
He stared at him a moment and then rose to his feet.
"I report myself ready for duty, Major," said the young officer, saluting.
"Good G.o.d, is it Marteau!" exclaimed the Major.
"The same."
"We thought you dead."
Rapidly the young officer explained the situation.
"You see," he said in closing, "I survived the Eagle."
"Ah, if we could only have got it back!" exclaimed the Major.
"It is back."
"What do you mean?"
"It is here."
"I don't understand."
"Look," cried the officer, nervously tearing away the wrappings and holding up his precious burden.
The Major came to attention, his heels clicked together, his hand went up. He stared at the Eagle.
"_Vive l'Empereur_," he said.
"_Vive l'Empereur_," answered the other, but both of them spoke in whispers, for there was no Emperor, and a mention of the name was treason to the King.
"It is the same?" asked the Major, taking the precious emblem in his hand and pressing it to his heart.
"The very same."
"But how?"
"The boy here and I marked the spot where it fell. We took bearings, as a sailor would say; we took them independently, and when we had a chance to compare them we found that we agreed exactly. When I was released from prison and discharged from the hospital as a convalescent, we went back to Arcis, to the bridge, to the river side.
The boy here is an expert swimmer. The river was low. He dove into the icy waters again and again until he found it. We were most circ.u.mspect in our movements. No one observed us. I wrapped it up, concealed it carefully, learned that the regiment was here, and I surrender it into your hands."
"It is a shame," began Lestoype gloomily at last, laying the Eagle gently down on his desk.
"What is a shame?"