"The French nation murdered my father and mother! They will never be ruled by me! And to live here as a private citizen is becoming impossible because of my resemblance to my father. Again and again I have heard it remarked how closely I resemble Louis XVI in his younger days. It would soon be causing serious political complications, more particularly as I foresee that affairs are far from stable, even with such a man as your wonderful Emperor at their head! But in America I shall never be recognised, and there I can live the quiet, peaceful, useful life which I crave." "But tell me," asked Jean, "have you never seen your sister since her removal from the Tower?" "No, never, for two reasons,--one of them rather curious! She will not believe that I am alive!" "How strange!" murmured Jean. "No, not strange, in a way. It was De Batz who informed her of my escape, after she went to England. But she refused to believe it, saying it was an impossibility,--that I had died in the Tower, and that anyone who claimed to be myself must be an impostor! But then, you see, she has attached herself to our uncle, my father's oldest brother, who, if the Bourbons ever returned to reign, would be the next in succession, Louis XVIII. And on that account I feel I can never forgive her, for he was always a cruel enemy of our mother, Queen Marie Antoinette, and caused her much grief. How my sister could endure to be even in his presence, I cannot understand, and this is the reason I wish never to see her again. But tell me, Jean, all about yourself! And how is the good Madame Clouet and pretty little Yvonne?" "It pains me to tell you," answered Jean, "that our dear Mère Clouet passed away a few months ago, after a severe illness. But for the last ten years she had lived a very happy life in our lovely little home at Meudon. That loss has left little Yvonne,--who is little no longer, but a beautiful young woman!--quite alone in the world, except for me. We grew up together as brother and sister, but now I have managed to persuade her to consider me in another light, and next month she is to become my wife! The Emperor has promised to give us a beautiful wedding!" "Bravo, bravo!" cried Louis Charles. "A thousand happy wishes! Nothing could have pleased me better than this news!" And as he looked Jean over, noting his six feet of splendid brawn and muscle, his handsome black eyes and crisply curling hair, realising the cleverness and worth of this fellow and the loyal, loving heart of him, Louis Charles did not wonder at the choice of Yvonne! "But now tell me about your Emperor," he said. "You fairly worship him, I'm sure, and I do not blame you! And when did you get this?" He pointed to a Cross of the Legion of Honour on the young man's breast.