"When the war is over, love may begin or may not," Vera replied. "This is not the time to speak of love. I will not shame myself a second time. Go, Paul—I am a traitor to have said what I said—forget it—farewell!"
"I swear I will never forget it," said Paul. "You are cruel, Vera; I do not understand your attitude; you are not like a woman!"
"I am a Russian; my heart bleeds for my country which lies under the shadow of Napoleon and his Grand Army, of which you are a member. It is hateful of me to have spoken of love with a French soldier. Go, Paul, I entreat you." She held out her hand, Paul bent over and kissed it. Then he left the room without a word.
CHAPTER XI.
At the Palais d'armes of old Pierre Dupré there was excitement. Both Karl Havet, Marie's fiancé, and young Maux, the second assistant, had received their conscription notices; both had been drawn; unless physically unfit or unsound, both men must serve in Napoleon's new and greatest army.
Maux was in excellent spirits. Being a splendidly built young fellow, lithe and strong as a leopard, there was no doubt whatever as to his fitness.
"I shall come back a sergeant, Monsieur," he said; "you shall see; it may even be that I shall gain a commission in the field—such things have happened before now!"
Old Pierre nodded approvingly. "You are going forth in the proper spirit, my son," he said; then he glanced sadly at Karl Havet, who sat with Marie conversing dejectedly over his conscription notice, and sighed. "Would it were the same there!" he added.
Louise fired up and spoke.