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Show ILLUSTRATIONS Sy ELLSWORTH YOUMCr COPrWCHT V2 BY WrtAL CO. SYNOPSIS. Francois Jl.-aiipre. a peasant babe of (hit-.; years, afl.-r an ainuslliK Inel.l.-nf in V.'he Mill'.sflltl lrl-VV llHHI'fH, is llia.le Jl ') I.-va Hit r ! r.i 1 1 by tin- Kmlwinr Napoleon, Na-poleon, whr J i f j 1 1 -H i ' ' I 'hat the boy iint.'lil dm- 1 1 j l y In- a marshal of Franee un.i.-r another I Ji i n a pa i' 1 1. Al the ai-'i of I'-n Francois vimIim ib-nera Hanin ias-(iii.nl ias-(iii.nl ( iniii-KH ml, who with Alixe. IiIh mn'MI-vwu -old (l.'l lighter, lives at the Chateau. A hiiIiIIi r of tin' F.mplre tinder Napoleon hn tires din hoy'.s ima Kl nal ion villi stories of his ca nipaik'ns. Tim K''ll-Ta! K''ll-Ta! orf.-rs Francois a home at tin' t'lia-t.'iiil. t'lia-t.'iiil. The buy refuses to leave his parents, pa-rents, but In the end becomes a copyist lor the Lp-n.r.il anil learns of I In" friond-hlj friond-hlj between thB K''i(i-ial anil Maripiis yappl. who iaiiipalt.'iii'l with the general 11 n.d r Napoleon. Mar.ills Zappi anil his Hon, Plelro, arrive at. thf Chateau. The .ii.ral agrees to rare for the Marquis con while 1 1 1- former eoos to America. The lUaripils before leaving for America inked Francois to he a friend of his son. The bov soleninlv promises. Francois voeH to the Chiilean to live. Marquis yappl dies leavhiK Plelro as a wnnl of (he K-eneral. Allxe. I'lelro anil Francois meet u si ra litre bov who proves to be Prince J.onls Nnpoleon. Francois saves Ills life The general discovers Francois loves Allxe. anil extracts a promise from Mill that he will nol Interfere between the Kill anil I'lelro. Francois urn's to Italv nn secretary to Plelro. Queen Mnrlense plans the escape of her son hi" s MJ-r.oleon MJ-r.oleon by (llsKiilslnpc him and Marquis '.appi as her lackeys. Francois takes Marquis Zappl's place, who Is HI. in the .seapo nf llorlense mill l.onls. Dressed bs Louis's brother Francois lures the Austrians from tile hotel fillowlnff the prince and his mother to escape. 1- rsvn-rols rsvn-rols is a prisoner of the Austrians for tivc vears In the castle owned hv Plelro In Italv. He. discovers In bis Kiiaril one or PL-tin's nlil family servants, and .nrouch 1dm sends word to his friends of his plight The fieneral. Allxe and Pietro hoar from Francois and plan his rescue. Francois as a truest of the Austrian governor gov-ernor of the castle prison inspects the Interior nf the wine cellar of the .appis. Francois receives a nole from Pietro explaining ex-plaining In delall how to escape from his prison. Alixn awaits him on horseback iind leads him to his friends on boaid (he American sallinff vessel, the h"vriv l.ucv" Francois, as a Ruest of Hum J lampion, on the "Lovely T.ucy. Roes o America to mannfre Pietro estate in Virginia. Francois wins the respect and ndmirallon of the aristocratic southern-era. herself as well as all her thought and effort for Roanoke. She wanted to love .somebody, and be loved for herself her-self as other girls were; she would not marry Harry because he and her lather considered it a good arrangement. arrange-ment. So strongly had this determination determi-nation seized her that, looking entirely entire-ly down that way of thought, she failed to see that Harry might not be classed with the colonel in his view of the plan. She failed to see that if she had not been heiress to Roanoke House, or to anything at all, Harry Hamilton would still have been in love with his cousin Lucy. For Harry saw how the young life had been pressed into a service too hard for it almost from babyhood; Harry saw how unselfish un-selfish she was and trustworthy; how-broad-minded and warm-hearted; how she would like to be care free and irresponsible ir-responsible like other girls of her age, only that the colonel and the estate were always there, always demanding her time and her attention. He could do little to help her as yet, but he longed to Jift the weight and carry it with her, not away from her, for the fairy of a person was not the sort to lean on others or to be happy without her share of the burden. Yet, Harry thought, "If I might only help her, and make it all a delight instead of a labor!" But Lucy, going about her busy days, never guessed this. She thought 'of Harry as the boy whom she had grown up with, to be cared for tenderly ten-derly always because of his, misfortune, misfor-tune, to be helped and planned for and loved indeed, because he was lame and her cousin, and because he was a dear boy and her best friend. But as the hero of her own romance to come, she refused to think of him at all. More firmly she refused such an lists of the mayor and I pulled at the sword of Marshal Xey. And the marshal, mar-shal, turning quickly, knocked me over. I cried out, and my grandmother grand-mother ran to me, and I have often heard her tell how she peeped from the door under the shoulder of the big sentry who would not let her pass, and how she saw a young general pick nie up and set me on my feet, and how all the great officers laughed when he said that the sword was in contest between Marshal Xey and me. And how, then, the young general suggested sug-gested that, to settle the point amicably, amic-ably, the marshal should draw his sword and give me the accolade the blow of knighting. And so. Mademoiselle, Mademoi-selle, to shorten the tale, it was not the marshal, but the Emperor himself who chose to do it. He made me kneel before him, I a baby and he struck -my shoulder the blow of the accolade, and said the words which I have told yon." Francois sprang to his feet and stood as he repeated once more the Emperor's words. His voice shook. " 'Rise Chevalier Francois Beaupre, one day a Marshal of France under another Bonaparte,'" he cried, thrilled through with the words which he repeated. re-peated. The girl leaning forward, watched him; with a gasp 6he spoke. "Then that is why you are really Chevalier Beaupre? Did the Emperor have the right to to knight you?" "But yes, Mademoiselle," Francois answered with decision. "I have studied stud-ied the question, and I believe that the accolade the knighting was always a right of the monarchs of France, disused, perhaps at times, but yet held in abeyance, a right." The glance of the brilliant eyes met hers with a frank calmness which showed that he claimed nothing which he did not feel; that this haphazard nobility had lived in his soul and grown with his growth, and come to be part of him. With a gentle humility, humil-ity, very winning as it sprang from his gentle pride, he went on. "I know. Mademoiselle, that I am a peasant and that I must be content with a small place in life at the present. pres-ent. I know this. And even that position which I have is more than my brothers. For you must know. Mademoiselle, that the others grew up to be farmers or tradesmen." He hesitated, hes-itated, and then in a few words told her of General Gourgaud, the seigneur of Vieques, and how he had given the peasant boy all the opportunities which his own son could have had. And as he talked he remembered how, after his father's ruin, he had stood inside the bare, little, new cottage and watched through the window his mother standing at the gate and talking talk-ing to the seigneur, who held Lisette's bridle. It seemed to him he could see the dark braided hair of La Claire, coiled around her head, and the deep point of her white neck-handkerchief as she stood with her back to him, and the big bow of the apron tied about her waist. The picture came vividly. And it opened his heart so that he talked on, and told this stranger strang-er in a strange land many things that had lain close and silent in his heart. He told her about the general's gruff-ness, gruff-ness, which could not hide his goodness; good-ness; and how he had come to be the child of the castle as well as of the cottage; something of Pietro also he told her; but he did not mention Alixe. "You spoke of three children, Monsieur; Mon-sieur; .who was the third?" asked Lucy. Francois went on as if he had not heard, the question. "It was a happy life, Mademoiselle," he said. "And it has been so ever since even, for the most part, in prison. I have wondered at times if the world is all filled with such kind people as I have met, or if it is just my good luck." Lucy Hampton had been reading aloud to her sick black mammy that day, and some of the words of the book she had read came to her, and seemed to fit. '"The kingdom of God and was tried for it md all that father fa-ther talked about it so much I could not help knowing a little about It, but I don't remember distinctly." "But certainly, Mademoiselle. It was the prince." "Then, haven't they just done something some-thing to him? Isn't there something people are interested in just now about that Prince Louis?" The grave bright smile flashed out at her. "In truth, Mademoiselle, there is. The prince was shipped by his jailers on the frigate Andromeda more than four months ago, for what port is unknown. One has not heard of him lately, and there are fears that he may have suffered shipwreck. But 1 do not fear. It is the hope of France, it is France's destiny which the An-dromede An-dromede carries. It will carry that great cargo safely. The young prince will yet come to his own, and I and perhaps you, Mademoiselle who knows? will cry for him 'Vive l'Em-pereur'!" l'Em-pereur'!" The tone full of feeling thrilled through the girl. She. flushed and stammered aB she went on, but Francois, Fran-cois, carried away by his enthusiasm, did not think of it. "If you will let me ask just one question more, Monsieur, Mon-sieur, I will promise not to ask any after." The flicker of amusement lighted his face. "Ask me a thousand, Mademoiselle." Mad-emoiselle." "No, only one. Did that seigneur that General Gourgaud did he have any any daughter?" . The Frenchman rose in a businesslike business-like way, the way of a teacher of language lan-guage at the end of a lesson. "One," he answered briefly in a matter-of-fact tone. And then, "Mademoiselle "Made-moiselle has talked enchantingly well this evening, but I have perhaps talked talk-ed too much. I may have tired Mademoiselle. Mad-emoiselle. I have the honor to wish you a good evening." His heels together, he stood in the doorway and made his bow. "Au plaisir de vous revoir," he said, and was gone. Js CHAPTER XXIII. i The Prince Comes. The glittering morning sunlight of late March flooded the eastern dining-room dining-room of Roanoke house. A fire blazed blaz-ed on the hearth; hot dishes steamed on the table; the girl's face, the crackling crack-ling fire, the polished silver reflected from polished mahogany; the soft shod, solicitous service of a white-aproned white-aproned negro; all this made the room fragrant with homeliness in spite of the fact that one could see one's breath in the air. But they were used to it the hardy Virginians of those days of open fires and no furnaces, fur-naces, of many luxuries and few comforts, com-forts, and in happy ignorance of world progress, they suffered cheerfully and were strong. Colonel Henry Hampton faced a portrait por-trait of the first Hampton of Roanoke, stately with brass buttons and silver lace, set in the panels seventy-five years before. Lucy had concluded her broiled chicken and bacon and hot bread, and now as he, late for breakfast break-fast always, followed In her wake, he read the Norfolk and Portsmouth Herald with which a colored boy had that morning ridden out from Norfolk, 1 eight miles away. It was before the time of daily papers, except in a large city or two, and this of once a week vas an event; a boy was sent to Norfolk Nor-folk the day before its publication that the colonel might have it at the earliest moment. "How would you like to see a live prince, Lucy?" he inquired. "The Her-eld Her-eld states that we have one with us, not ten miles from Roanoke. Prince Louis Napoleon was landed from the Andromede, in Norfolk, only yesterday. yester-day. Poor young man," he went on condescendingly, "he has no money, I understand, and here he is stranded in a strange country with his fortune to make.1 and no assets but a title. to the fire, and held his hands to it and stared into it. The clock ticked firmly, the logs fell apart with soft sliding sounds, and he stared down at them his thoughts far away a look came into his eyes as if they concentrated concen-trated on. something beyond the range of sight, the characteristic look of Francois, the old look of a dreamer, of a seer of visions. Then Lucy stood in the doorway, gentle, charming from the slippered feet, locked over the Instep to the shadowy locks of light hair ou her forehead. "Good evening. Monsieur.' I am sorry I kept you waiting. Hannibal hurt his foot and I must find plaster and bandage for him. But you will have enough of my talking even now. Father says I talk a great deal. Do I, Monsieur?" Francois stood regarding her, with frank admiration in every muscle of his face. He smiled, the same gentle amused smile with which he had addressed ad-dressed the portrait. "You never talk too much for me, Mademoiselle. It is a pleasure to me always to hear your voice," he answered in the deep tone of a Frenchman, the tone that has ever a half note of tragedy, as of some race-memory w'hich centuries do not wipe out. "Only," he went on speaking in French, "one must not talk English. That is breaking the law, you remember, Mademoiselle." She answered very prettily in his own tongue, in words that halted a little. "Very well, Monsieur. I will do my best." He still gazed at her smiling, without speaking. One could understand that, tq a girl of more self-contained people, this open homage hom-age of manner, this affectionate gentleness, gen-tleness, might seem to mean more than a brotherly loyalty. The girl's pulse was beating fast as she made an effort for conversation. "What were you thinking of as you looked at the fire when I came in, Monsieur? It had an air of being something pleasant. pleas-ant. Did I not say all that beautifully?" beauti-fully?" she finished in English. He corrected a lame verb with serious seri-ous accuracy and she repeated the word, and laughed happily. "But you haven't said yet what you were thinking about." The large brown eyes turned on hers. "It was of my old home in France, Mademoiselle, when I was very little," he said simply. "A large fire of logs makes me think of that." "Tell me about it," she begged with quick interest. "Will you? Was there always a fire at. your house?" "But no, Mademoiselle not, of course, in the summer. It was of the winter time I thought, when the neighbors neigh-bors came, in the evening, and we sat about the hearth, sometimes twenty people, each at his different duty, and my brothers and sisters were there, and the dear grandmere, was there and " he stopped. "Does Mademoiselle Mademoi-selle really wish to hear how it was in that old farm-house of ours, in the shadow of the Jura Mountains?" "Indeed, Mademoiselle wishes it," she assured him. "It will be a trip to Europe. I am sure I 6hall speak better French for going to France for ten minutes, and being among the French people, your friends. Wait gave a sigh of content and always the grand-mere patted my head softly to hear it, when my father cleared his throat and began " " 'There is a small thing that happened hap-pened when the Emperor was marching' march-ing' and then he was launched on his tale." A great hickory log fell, rolled out toward the hearth. The carved nymphs and shepherds seemed to frown in disapproval at this irregularity, and the girl in the deep chair 6miled, but the man sprang up and put the log back in place with quick efficiency. He stood silent by the tall mantelpiece, mantel-piece, deep yet in his reverie, as the flames caught the wood again and sparkled and spluttered. "Did any of them ever see Napoleon Napo-leon those men who talked about him?" the girl asked. The Frenchman turned a queer look on her, and did not answer. "Did any of youjf family ever see him, Monsieur?" sh asked again. The alert figure stepped backward, sat down again on the gilded chair and leaned forward consideringly. Francois nodded as if to the fire. "But yes, Mademoiselle," he said, in a whisper. whis-per. , "Oh, tell me!" the girl cried, all Interest. In-terest. "Who was it? How was it? It couldn't be" she hesitated "yourself! "your-self! If you, whom I know so well, should have seen the Emperor!" She caught a deep breath of excitement. This was another Lucy Hampton from the serious young mistress of Roanoke House whom the country people knew. "Quickly, Monsieur, tell me if it was yourself! " Francois turned his eyes on her. "Yes, Madamoiselle," he answered. ".You have seen Napoleon!" she said, and then, impetuously, "Tell me about it!" But, though he smiled at her with that affectionate amusement which she seemed,-of all sentiments, oftenest to inspire in him, he did not answer. "Monsieur! you will not refuse to tell me when I want to know so much!" she pleaded, and went on. "How old were you? Did he speak to you? What did he say to you?" And the Frenchman laughed as if at a dear child who was absurd. "Mademoiselle asks many questions which shall I- answer?" he demanded, and the lone to her ear was the tone of love, and she trembled to hear it. "Answer" she began, and stammered stam-mered and flushed, and stopped. Francois went on, little thinking what damage he was doing with that unconscious charm of voice and look. "It is as Mademoiselle wishes, most certainly. I will even answer Mademoiselle's Ma-demoiselle's two questions fit once to please her. It was when I was not quite three, years old, Mademoiselle, at home in the farm-house in the valley val-ley of the Jura." "And he spoke to you, to your own self? Are you sure?" ' "But yes, he spoke to me, -Mademoiselle " "What did he say?" The smile on Francois' face went out and into its place swept an intensity of feeling; he answered solemnly: "There were but few words, Mademoiselle, but they have been much to my life. They CHAPTER XXI. Hero Worship. It had come about that Lucy Hampton Hamp-ton was a scholar of Francois. The colonel, lamenting on a day that there were no capable teachers of French in the neighborhood, that Lucy's schoolgirl school-girl command of the language was fast disappearing, and an accomplishment accomplish-ment so vital to a lady was likely soon to be lost this saga of rg'ret being sung by the colonel at the dinner-table, Francois had offered to. teach mademoiselle madem-oiselle his mother tongue. And the colonel had accepted the offer. "If you are not too busy, Chevalier. And I suppose your ah accent is entirely good? One can not be too careful, you kuow. At least we shall not quarrel about the terms, for whatever what-ever money you think right to ask I shall be ready to pay," and the colonel I'elt himself a man of the world and extremely generous. 'Father!" Lucy cried quickly. Francois' eyes were on his plate but they swept up with their wide brown gaze full on the colonel's face. "I am not too busy, Monsieur the Colonel. As for my accent I am a peasant, as Monsieur knows, but yet I am instructed. in-structed. I was for years at Saint-Cyr, Saint-Cyr, the great military school of France. I believe my accent is right. As for money" a quick motion, all French, spoke a whole sentence. "If Monsieur insists on that that must idea, of course, because her father had hinted that it would complete both Harry's and his happiness. Francois, with quick insight, saw as much as this, and was anxious for the boy who had been his warm and steady friend. What he did not see was that Luck was fitting his own personality into that empty notch of her imagination where an altar stood and a candle burned, ready for the image that was to come above them. That never entered his mind, for in his mind Alixe was the only woman living to be considered in such a relation. re-lation. And, in spite of the seigneur, in spite of Pietro, in spite of his wholehearted whole-hearted giving up of her, there was a happy obstinate corner in the depths of his soul which yet whispered against all reason that it might be that Alixe loved him, that it might be, for unheard-of things happened every day, it might be yet that with all honor, with all happiness to those others whom he loved he might some day be free to love her. So that as he grew to care for and understand Lucy Hampton more1 and mpre, no faintest dream of caring for her as he did for Alixe came ever into his mind. On an evening when winter was wearing away to cold spring, Francois waited in the dining-room of Roanoke House for his scholar. The room had a sweet and stately beauty, a graceful stiffness like the manners of the women who first lived in it, a hundred j!K ; I'd IK'''" i hi f l;lljltl jJ . 1 i It's little that will help him in the states!" Colonel Hampton glanced over to see if she were listening to his words of wisdom; he liked an attentive audience. au-dience. He was enchanted with her expression. She had dropped knife and fork and, with her blue eyes stretched wide, her white teeth shining, shin-ing, was drinking in his sentences. "Father! Is Prince Louis in Norfolk? Nor-folk? How can it be? Monsieur Beaupre was talking to me about him last night, and he did not dream of his coming here. Surely he would have known if the prince were expected." Colonel Hampton smiled sarcastically. sarcastical-ly. "You will find that your father occasionally knows more than even Monsieur Beaupre, and even on French questions, 1 may add," he announced, an-nounced, from a mountain height. "But in one point you are right, my dear. The prince was not expected by any one, not even by the great Chevalier Beaupre. He was exiled from France, as you may or may not know, some four and a half months ago, on account of his attempt on Stras-burg, Stras-burg, and was sent out on the Andromede, Andro-mede, with sealed orders. No one knew his destination until he landed, on the twenty-eighth, in Norfolk. There" the colonel got up and walked walk-ed to the fireplace and stood with his back to the blaze, and his legs far apart, masterfully. "There, my dear, I have given you a dose of history for a female mind. How are you going to amuse your little self today?" (TO BE CONTINUKD.) lllUStl 1L. 1U Hie ii. ywuiu inip sible to take money for the pleasure of teaching mademoiselle." He flashed at Lucy a smile all gentleness, and Lucy's eyes, waiting for that smile, met his shyly. The colonel blustered a bit, but the lessons were arranged as Francois wished, twice a week throughout the winter he rode over from Carnifax to give them. And little by little he came to know the small mistress of the manor ma-nor as lew had known her. People thought Lucy Hampton too serious and rtaid for a youug girl; no one realized that, her mother being dead and her father such as he was, the clear-headed little person had begun at ten or twelve years old to know that she must make her own decisions, and many of her father's also. At four-' four-' teen she had taken the keys and the responsibilities of the house, and now, at sixteen, she was in reality the head of the whole great plantation. The colonel, who would have been most indignant in-dignant to be told so, leaned ou her In every detail, and it was she who planned and decided and often executed execut-ed the government of the little kingdom. king-dom. All this lay on the slender shoulders of Lucy Hampton, and besides all this she had begun in very childhood to hold up the hands and do the thinking of r- icc"t "e'nt father. It was not vonderlul that she was graver and elov e-r to frolic than other girls of Bixteen. , Her conscientious young bruin was full of care, and llght-heart-eflnesz of youth had never had a cnance to grow in that crowded place. Her cousin had come to live with them only the year before, when his mother had died, his father being dead long ago; and Lucy knew quite well that her father had planned that th two should marry and unite the broad acres of the Hamptons. But the young longing for romance which was In her in spite of the choking chok-ing sober business of her life, rebelled re-belled at this. She would not give now, till I am comfortable." She turned a deep chair so that it faced him, and dropped into it. "Put a footstool foot-stool for me," she ordered, as southern south-ern women order the men they care for and the men they do not. And she settled back with her little . feet on it and smiled at him. For a moment mo-ment the man's brilliant gaze rested on her and the girl saw it, and thrilled to it. "Now, Monsieur, racontez-moi tine histoire," she spoke softly. Francois Beaupre's look turned from her to the fire, and the air of gazing at something far away came again. "It is a picture I see as I think of that time of my childhood," he began, as if speaking to himself. "A picture many times painted in homelike colors col-ors on my brain. Many a night in the winter I have sat, a little boy. by the side of my grandmother, at that great hearth, and have looked and have seen all the faces, have heard all the voices and the fire crackling, and the spinning-wheel .whirring, even as I see them and hear them tonight. "And from time to time one ofuhe men, as he talked, rose up and 6trode across the room to the great oak table where lay always on a wooden plate a long loaf of black bread, with a knife, and always a glass and a bottle of eau-de-vie brandy. And I remember remem-ber how manly it looked to me, watching, watch-ing, when I saw him take the loaf under his arm and hold it, and slice off boldly a great piece of the fresh rye bread, and pour out a glass of brandy and toss it off as he ate the bread. The stories seemed to grow better after the teller had done that. "And always I waited, even through the tale of the ghost and the fire-breathing fire-breathing hound, till the talk Bhould swing round, as it did ever toward the end, to the stories of Napoleon that were fresh in men's minds ha those days. It was as if I sat on needles before my bedtime came, yet I did not dare to be restless and move about for fear that my mother might send me suddenly to bed. But I always shall lead my iite, it God pleases, those words shall lead it to the fate which they foretold." "What were the words?" whispered the girl, impressed with awe. Francois suddenly stood erect and stretched out his arm as if to hold a sword. " 'Rise Chevalier Francois Beaupre, one day a Marshal of France under another Napoleon,' " he repeated repeat-ed dramatically. "Those were the words the Emperor said." CHAPTER XXII. -1 The Story1 Again. The pirl. her face lifted to him, looked bewildered. "I don't understand." under-stand." The visionary eyes stared at her uncertainly. un-certainly. "I have never told this thing," he said in a low tone. "Ah but it's only me," begged the girl. "Only you, Mademoiselle!" His voice went on as if reflecting aloud. "It is the guiding star of my life that story; yet I may tell it" he paused "to 'only you.' " Again the girl quivered, feeling the intensity, mistaking its meaning. "I should be glad if you would tell It," she spoke almost in a whisper, but Francois, floating backward on a strong tide to those old beloved days, did not notice. "It may seem a simple affair to you. Mademoiselle I can not tell that. It has affected my life. The way of it was this: Napoleon marched to Germany Ger-many in the year 1813, and passed with his staff through our village. The house of my father was the largest in the village, and It was chosen to be, for an hour, the Emperor's headquarters, head-quarters, and the Emperor held a council of war, he and his generals, there. I, a child of three, was sleeping sleep-ing in a room which opened from the great room, and I wakened with the Bound of voices, and ran in, unnoticed, un-noticed, for they were all bent over the table, looking at the maps and Lucy Stood in the Doorway. years before. The carved white woodwork wood-work over the doors was yellowed to ivory; the mantelpiece, brought from France in 1732, framed in its fluted pillars, its garlands and chiseled nymphs and shepherds, as if under protest, the rollicking orange of the fire. Over a mahogany sofa, covered with slippery horsehair, hung a portrait por-trait of the first lady of the manor and Francois, sitting soldierly erect in a straight chair, smiled as his gaze fell on it it was so like yet so unlike a face which he knew. There was the delicate oval chin and straight nose, and fair, loose hair. But the portrait was staid and serious, while Lucy'B face, as this man had seen it, had kindly eyes and a mouth smiling always. al-ways. He shook his head in gentle amusement at the grave dignity of the picture. "But no, Madame you are not so charming as your granddaughter," he said, addressing it aloud. And than he stepped across the room Stretched Out His Arm as If to Hold a Sword. is within you," she quoted softly, to Francois. Then she considered a moment. mo-ment. "Monsieur, would it be impertinent for me to ask you a question a personal per-sonal question?" "I think not. Mademoiselle," he smiled at her. She went on, hesitating a little. "Father was talking of how Prince Louis Bonaparte served, a few years ago, with the Italian revolutionists. I wondered if if by chance you had fought under him." He shook his head. "I had not that happiness. Mademoiselle." "The heir of the Bonapartes now 1b that Prince Louis Napoleon, is It not?" she questioned. "Yes, Mademoiselle." "And he made an attempt on the city of Strasburg, a few months ago, |