“My dear young man,” said he, with a bland smile, “I very much fear that the general has little time at this moment to give the matter much of his attention. Great events have happened,--are happening while we speak. War is threatening on the side of Austria. Yes, it is true: the camp of Boulogne has received orders to break up; troops are once more on their march to the Rhine; all France is arming.” “Oh, when shall I be free?” “You are free!” cried he, clapping me gayly on the shoulder. “An amnesty against all untried prisoners for state of offences has been proclaimed. At such a moment of national joy--” “What do you mean?” “What! and have I not told you my great news? The Senate have presented to Bonaparte an address, praying his acceptance of the throne of France; or, in their very words, to make his authority eternal.” “And he?” said I, breathless with impatience to know the result. “He,” continued the general, “has replied as became him, desiring them to state clearly their views,--by what steps they propose to consolidate the acquired liberties of the nation. And while avowing that no higher honor or dignity can await him than such as he has already received at the hands of the people, 'Yet,' added he, 'when the hour arrives that I can see such to be the will of France,--when one voice proclaims it from Alsace to the Ocean, from Lisle to the Pyrenees,--then shall I be ready to accept the throne of France.'” The general entered minutely into all the circumstances of the great political change, and detailed the effect which the late conspiracy had had on the minds of the people, and with what terror they contemplated the social disorders that must accrue from the death of their great ruler; how nothing short of a Government based on a Monarchy, with the right of succession established, could withstand such a terrific crisis. As he spoke, the words I had heard in the Temple crossed my mind, and I remembered that such was the anticipation of the prisoners, as they said among themselves, “When the guillotine has done its work, they 'll patch up the timbers into a throne.” “And George Cadoudal, and the others?” said I. “They are no more. Betrayed by their own party, they met death like brave men, and as worthy of a better cause. But let us not turn to so sad a theme. The order for your liberation will be here to-morrow; and as I am appointed to a brigade on active service, I have come to offer you the post of aide-de-camp.” I could not speak; my heart was too full for words. I knew how great the risk of showing any favor to one who stood in such a position as I did; and I could but look my gratitude, while the tears ran down my cheeks.