Even in those days of falling upon adventure and taking hold of life with the arrogance of young manhood, I knew the value of money, though it has always been my fault to give it little consideration. Experience taught me that poverty goes afoot and sleeps with strange bed-fellows. But I never minded going afoot or sharing the straw with cattle. However, my secretary more than once took a high hand with me because he bore the bag; and I did mind debt chasing my heels like a rising tide. Our Iroquois had their cottages in St. Regis and their hunting cabins on Lake George. They went to church when not drunk and quarrelsome, paid the priest his dues, labored easily, and cared nothing for hoarding. But every step of my new life called for coin. As I look back on that hour the dominating thought rises clearly. To see men admitting that you are what you believe yourself to be, is one of the triumphs of existence. The jewel-case stamped identification upon me. I felt like one who had communicated with the past and received a benediction. There was special provision in the way it came to me; for man loves to believe that God watches over and mothers him. Forgetting--if I had ever heard--how the ancients dreaded the powers above when they had been too fortunate, I went with the marquis in high spirits to the Rue Ste. Croix. There were pots of incense sending little wavers of smoke through the rooms, and the people might have peopled a dream. The men were indeed all smooth and trim; but the women had given rein to their fancies. Our hostess was a fair and gracious woman, of Greek ancestry, as Bonaparte himself was, and her daughter had been married to his favorite general, the marquis told me. I notice only the unusual in clothing; the scantiness of ladies' apparel that clung like the skin, and lay upon the oak floor in ridges, among which a man must shove his way, was unusual to me. I saw, in space kept cleared around her chair, one beauty with nothing but sandals on her feet, though these were white as milk, silky skinned like a hand, and ringed with jewels around the toes. Bonaparte's youngest sister stood receiving court. She was attired like a Bacchante, with bands of fur in her hair, topped by bunches of gold grapes. Her robe and tunic of muslin fine as air, woven in India, had bands of gold, clasped with cameos, under the bosom and on the arms. Each woman seemed to have planned outdoing the others in conceits which marked her own fairness. I looked anxiously down the spacious room without seeing Madame de Ferrier. The simplicity, which made for beauty of houses in France, struck me, in the white and gold paneling, and the chimney, which lifted its mass of design to the ceiling. I must have been staring at this and thinking of Madame de Ferrier when my name was called in a lilting and excited fashion: "Lazarre!" There was Mademoiselle de Chaumont in the midst of gallants, and better prepared to dance a gavotte than any other charmer in the room. For her gauze dress, fastened on the shoulders so that it fell not quite off her bosom, reached only to the middle of the calf. This may have been for the protection of rosebuds with which ribbons drawn lengthwise through the skirt, were fringed; but it also showed her child-like feet and ankles, and made her appear tiptoe like a fairy, and more remarkable than any other figure except the barefooted dame. She held a crook massed with ribbons and rosebuds in her hand, rallying the men to her standard by the lively chatter which they like better than wisdom. Mademoiselle Annabel gave me her hand to kiss, and made room for the Marquis du Plessy and me in her circle. I felt abashed by the looks these courtiers gave me, but the marquis put them readily in the background, and delighted in the poppet, taking her quite to himself. "We hear such wonderful stories about you, Lazarre! Besides, Doctor Chantry came to see us and told us all he knew. Remember, Lazarre belonged to us before you discovered him, monsieur the Marquis du Plessy! He and I are Americans!" Some women near us commented, as seemed to be the fashion in that society, with a frankness which Indians would have restrained. "See that girl! The emperor may now imagine what his brother Jerome has done! Her father has brought her over from America to marry her, and it will need all his money to accomplish that!" Annabel shook the rain of misty hair at the sides of her rose pink face, and laughed a joyful retort. "No wonder poor Prince Jerome had to go to America for a wife! Did you ever see such hairy faced frights as these Parisians of the Empire! Lazarre fell ill looking at them. He pretends he doesn't see women, monsieur, and goes about with his coat skirts loaded with books. I used to be almost as much afraid of him as I am of you!" "Ah, mademoiselle, I dread to enter paradise." "Why, monsieur?" "The angels are afraid of me!" "Not when you smile." "Teach me that adorable smile of yours!" "Oh, how improving you will be to Lazarre, monsieur! He never paid me a compliment in his life. He never said anything but the truth." "The lucky dog! What pretty things he had to say!" Annabel laughed and shook her mist in great enjoyment. I liked to watch her, yet I wondered where Madame de Ferrier was, and could not bring myself to inquire. "These horrible incense pots choke me," said Annabel. "I like them," said the marquis. "Do you? So do I," she instantly agreed with him. "Though we get enough incense in church." "I should think so! Do you like mass?" "I was brought up on my knees. But I never acquired the real devotee's back." "Sit on your heels," imparted Annabel in strict confidence. "Try it." "I will. Ah, mademoiselle, any one who could bring such comfort into religion might make even wedlock endurable!" Madame de Ferrier appeared between the curtains of a deep window. She was talking with Count de Chaumont and an officer in uniform. Her face pulsed a rosiness like that quiver in winter skies which we call northern lights. The clothes she wore, being always subdued by her head and shoulders, were not noticeable like other women's clothes. But I knew as soon as her eyes rested on me that she found me changed. De Chaumont came a step to meet me, and I felt miraculously equal to him, with some power which was not in me before. "You scoundrel, you have fallen into luck!" he said heartily. "One of our proverbs is, 'A blind pig will find an acorn once in a while.'" "There isn't a better acorn in the woods, or one harder to shake down. How did you do it?" I gave him a wise smile and held my tongue; knowing well that if I had remained in Ste. Pelagie and the fact ever came to De Chaumont's ears, like other human beings he would have reprehended my plunging into the world. "We are getting on tremendously, Lazarre! When your inheritance falls in, come back with me to Castorland. We will found a wilderness empire!" I did not inquire what he meant by my inheritance falling in. The marquis pressed behind me, and when I had spoken to Madame de Ferrier I knew it was his right to take the hand of the woman who had been his little neighbor. "You don't remember me, madame?" "Oh, yes, I do, Monsieur du Plessy; and your wall fruit, too!" "The rogue! Permit me to tell you those pears are hastening to be ready for you once more." "And Bichette, monsieur--is dear old Bichette alive?" "She is alive, and draws the chair as well as ever. I hear you have a little son. He may love the old pony and chair as you used to love them." "Seeing you, monsieur, is like coming again to my home!" "I trust you may come soon." They spoke of fruit and cattle. Neither dared mention the name of any human companion associated with the past. I took opportunity to ask Count de Chaumont if her lands were recovered. A baffled look troubled his face. "The emperor will see her to-night," he answered. "It is impossible to say what can be done until the emperor sees her." "Is there any truth in the story that he will marry her to the officer who holds her estate?" The count frowned. "No--no! That's impossible." "Will the officer sell his rights if Madame de Ferrier's are not acknowledged?" "I have thought of that. And I want to consult the marquis." When he had a chance to draw the marquis aside, I could speak to Madame de Ferrier without being overheard; though my time might be short. She stood between the curtains, and the man in uniform had left his place to me. "Well, I am here," I said. "And I am glad," she answered. "I am here because I love you." She held a fold of the curtain in her hand and looked down at it; then up at me. "You must not say that again." "Why?" "You know why." "I do not." "Remember who you are." "I am your lover." She looked quickly around the buzzing drawing-room, and leaned cautiously nearer. "You are my sovereign." "I believe that, Eagle. But it does not follow that I shall ever reign." "Are you safe here? Napoleon Bonaparte has spies." "But he has regard also for old aristocrats like the Marquis du Plessy." "Yet remember what he did to the Duke d'Enghien. A Bourbon prince is not allowed in France." "How many people consider me a Bourbon prince? I told you why I am here. Fortune has wonderfully helped me since I came to France. Lazarre, the dauphin from the Indian camps, brazenly asks you to marry him, Eagle!" Her face blanched white, but she laughed. "No De Ferrier ever took a base advantage of royal favor. Don't you think this is a strange conversation in a drawing-room of the Empire? I hated myself for being here--until you came in." "Eagle, have you forgotten our supper on the island?" "Yes, sire." She scarcely breathed the word. "My unanointed title is Lazarre. And I suppose you have forgotten the fog and the mountain, too?" "Yes." "Lazarre!" "Yes, Lazarre." "You love me! You shall love me!" "As a De Ferrier should; no farther!" Her lifted chin expressed a strength I could not combat. The slight, dark-haired girl, younger than myself, mastered and drew me as if my spirit was a stream, and she the ocean into which it must flow. Darkness like that of Ste. Pelagie dropped over the brilliant room. I was nothing after all but a palpitating boy, venturing because he must venture. Light seemed to strike through her blood, however, endowing her with a splendid pallor. "I am going," I determined that moment, "to Mittau." The adorable curve of her eyelids, unlike any other eyelids I ever saw, was lost to me, for her eyes flew wide open. "To ----" She looked around and hesitated to pronounce the name of the Count of Provence. "Yes. I am going to find some one who belongs to me." "You have the marquis for a friend." "And I have also Skenedonk, and our tribe, for my friends. But there is no one who understands that a man must have some love." "Consult Marquis du Plessy about going to Mittau. It may not be wise. And war is threatened on the frontier." "I will consult him, of course. But I am going." "Lazarre, there were ladies on the ship who cursed and swore, and men who were drunk the greater part of the voyage. I was brought up in the old-fashioned way by the Saint-Michels, so I know nothing of present customs. But it seems to me our times are rude and wicked. And you, just awake to the world, have yet the innocence of that little boy who sank into the strange and long stupor. If you changed I think I could not bear it!" "I will not change." A stir which must have been widening through the house as a ripple widens on a lake, struck us, and turned our faces with all others to a man who stood in front of the chimney. He was not large in person, but as an individual his presence was massive--was penetrating. I could have topped him by head and shoulders; yet without mastery. He took snuff as he slightly bowed in every direction, shut the lid with a snap, and fidgeted as if impatient to be gone. He had a mouth of wonderful beauty and expression, and his eyes were more alive than the eyes of any other man in the assembly. I felt his gigantic force as his head dipped forward and he glanced about under his brows. "There is the emperor," De Chaumont told Eagle; and I thought he made indecent haste to return and hale her away before Napoleon. The greatest soldier in Europe passed from one person to another with the air of doing his duty and getting rid of it. Presently he raised his voice, speaking to Madame de Ferrier so that, all in the room might hear. "Madame, I am pleased to see that you wear leno. I do not like those English muslins, sold at the price of their weight in gold, and which do not look half as well as beautiful white leno. Wear leno, cambric, or silk, ladies, and then my manufactures will flourish." I wondered if he would remember the face of the man pushed against his wheel and called an assassin, when the Marquis du Plessy named me to him as the citizen Lazarre. "You are a lucky man, Citizen Lazarre, to gain the marquis for your friend. I have been trying a number of years to make him mine." "All Frenchmen are the friends of Napoleon," the marquis said to me. I spoke directly to the sovereign, thereby violating etiquette, my friend told me afterwards, laughing; and Bonaparte was a stickler for precedent. "But all Frenchmen," I could not help reminding the man in power, "are not faithful friends." He gave me a sharp look as he passed on, and repeated what I afterward learned was one of his favorite maxims: "A faithful friend is the true image."