"Twenty-two, Sire."
"You belong to the foot, but you can ride?"
"Anything."
"Marshal Berthier will give you horses. I shall be at Sézanne the day after to-morrow night. You will have news for me then?"
"Or be dead, Sire."
"I have no use for dead men. Don't get yourself taken. Any fool can die, or be made prisoner. It is a wise man who can live for me and France."
"I shall live," said the young man simply. "Have you any further command, Sire?"
"None."
The hand of Marteau was raised in salute.
"Stop," said the Emperor, as the soldier turned to the door.