“All that I said upon the subject, sir, so far as I can recollect, was in praise of the Emperor for clemency so well bestowed.” “There was no high-flown sentiment on the breach of honorable confidence effected in opening private letters?” said the marshal, sarcastically. “Yes, sir; I do remember expressing myself strongly on that head.” “I am not surprised, sir,” interrupted he, “at your indignation; your own conscience must have prompted you on the occasion. When a gentleman has such correspondents as the Chevalier Duchesne, he may well feel on a point like this. But enough of this. I have his Majesty's orders regarding you, which are as follows--” “Forgive me, I beg you, sir, the liberty of interrupting you for one moment. I am an alien, and therefore little versed in the habits and usages of the land for whose service I have shed my blood; but I am sure a marshal of France will not refuse a kindness to an officer of the army, however humble his station. I merely ask the answer to one question.” “What is it?” said the marshal, quickly. “Am I, as an officer, at liberty to resign my grade, and quit the service?” “Yes, _parbleu!_” said he, reddening, “yes, that you are.” “Then here I do so,” rejoined I, drawing my sword from its scabbard. “The career I can no longer follow honorably and independently, I shall follow no more.” “Your corps, sir?” said the marshal. “The Eighth Hussars of the Guard.” “Take a note of that, Gardanne. I shall spare you all unnecessary delay in tendering a written resignation of your rank; I accept it now. You leave Berlin in twenty-four hours.” I bowed, and was silent. “Your passport shall be made out for Paris; you shall receive it to-morrow morning.” He motioned with his hand towards the door as he concluded, and I left the room. The moment I felt myself alone, the courage which had sustained me throughout at once gave way, and I leaned against the wall, and covered my face with my hands. Yes, I knew it in my heart,--the whole dream of life was over; the path of glory was closed to me forever; all the hopes on which, in sanguine hours, I used to feed my heart, were scattered. And to the miseries of my exiled lot were now added the sorrows of an unfriended, companionless existence. The thought that no career was open to me came last; for at first I only remembered all I was leaving, not the dark future before me. Yet, when I called to mind the injustice with which I had been treated,--the system of espionage to which, as an alien more particularly, I was exposed,--I felt I had done right, and that to have remained in the service at such a sacrifice of my personal independence would have been base and unworthy.