The parting between the young people had been as formal as possible. The Englishman, on the contrary, with true British hospitality, had said that if peace ever came he would indeed be glad to welcome him at his home in England. Marteau had sworn to hold the château and its land in trust for the Countess, although she protested she would not hear of anything of the kind. And then he had bade her farewell. He had arrived in time to take part in the hard fighting at the close of the day, and had been busy during the early part of the night in carrying messages and resuming his duties at headquarters.
At two o'clock in the morning Napoleon threw himself down on a peasant's bed in a hut and slept until four. At that hour he awakened and summoned the officer on duty. Marteau presented himself. The Emperor, as refreshed by his two hours of sleep as if he had spent the night in a comfortable bed, addressed the young man familiarly. None could unbend better than he.
"My good Marteau," he began. "But stop—Monsieur le Comte d'Aumenier"—he smiled—"I have not forgot. Berthier has orders to send to Paris to have your patent of nobility made out and to see that the confiscated Aumenier lands are transferred to you."
"I thank your Majesty," said the young aide, deeming it wiser to say nothing of his ultimate intentions regarding the patent of nobility and the estates.
"It would be a fine thing," said the Emperor, "if you and that girl should come together. She is the last of her line, I understand, save her old uncle in England, who is unmarried and childless. Is it not so?"
"That is true, Sire."
"Well, you couldn't do better. She is a woman of spirit and resolution. Her prompt action in the château last night showed it. I commend her to your consideration. Were I your age and in your station I should like nothing better."
"Your Majesty anticipated my desire, my own proposition, in fact."
"What? You struck while you had the opportunity? That was well."
"But, unlike you, Sire, I struck unavailingly."