miserable Prussians and dastardly English! Brune, give me a passport,
I'll go at full speed, I'll reach the army, I will make myself known to
some colonel, I shall say, 'Give me your regiment.' I'll charge at its
head, and if the Emperor does not clasp my hand to-night, I'll blow my
brains out, I swear I will. Do what I ask, Brune, and however it may
end, my eternal gratitude will be yours!"

"I cannot, sire."

"Well, well, say no more about it."

"And your Majesty is going to leave France?"

"I don't know. Obey your orders, marshal, and if you come across me
again, have me arrested. That's another way of doing something for me.
Life is a heavy burden nowadays. He who will relieve me of it will be
welcome.... Good-bye, Brune."

He held out his hand to the marshal, who tried to kiss it; but Murat
opened his arms, the two old comrades held each other fast for a moment,
with swelling hearts and eyes full of tears; then at last they parted.
Brune remounted his horse, Murat picked up his stick again, and the two
men went away in opposite directions, one to meet his death by
assassination at Avignon, the other to be shot at Pizzo. Meanwhile, like
Richard III, Napoleon was bartering his crown against a horse at
Waterloo.

After the interview that has just been related, Murat took refuge with
his nephew, who was called Bonafoux, and who was captain of a frigate;
but this retreat could only be temporary, for the relationship would