accuse me of murdering thee, because they seek my ruin as they
compassed thine."

"Who, dear mother, who?" cried Eugene, passionately. "Who are the
fiends that murdered my father and calumniate my mother?"

"They are Louis XIV.," exclaimed the countess, "his minister
Louvois, and his two mistresses, De Montespan and De Maintenon."

"The king!" echoed Eugene, in a voice of such fury, that his mother
turned her eyes from the portrait, and stared at him with amazement.

"You hate the king?" said she, hurriedly.

"Yes," said Eugene, his eyes flashing fire; "yes, I hate him."

"And why?"

"Do not ask me, mother; I dare not say wherefore I hate the king."

"Then I will tell you why. You hate him because you believe the
scandalous reports which my enemies have spread throughout Europe as
regards my relations, in years gone by, with Louis. You believe that
your mother was once the king's mistress, and that, to hide her
shame, she borrowed the name of the Count de Soissons."

Eugene made no reply.

"Ah, why have I no son to shelter me from these infamous suspicions!
Why must I live and die under such false and disgraceful