"Yes, I abide by this; you must not run away from your own future, and this will, I trust, be a brilliant one. All tokens indicate that France is wearied with the republic, and that it is perhaps nearly ready to restore the throne of the Lilies. Young man, shall this reestablished throne fall into the hands of that man who contributed so much to its downfall—who was the calumniator, the secret enemy of Queen Marie Antoinette? Would you consent that the Count de Provence should be King of France?"
"No, never!" cried Louis, with blazing eyes and naming face. "That never can be; for, before the brother of Louis XVI. can ascend the throne as Louis XVIII., his rightful predecessor, Louis XVII., must have died."
"He has died, and the French government has placed in its archives the certificate of the death of Louis Charles Capet, signed by the physicians and the servants of the Temple. My son, in order to prevent the Count de Provence acknowledging this certificate as genuine, you must be prepared to place before him and the world other testimonials that Louis XVII. is not dead. This is a sacred offering which you must make to the manes of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette, even if the stake were not a throne and a crown!"
"You are right," cried Louis, with enthusiasm, "my whole life shall be devoted to this sacred trust; it shall have no other aim than this: to avenge Marie Antoinette of the most cruel of her enemies, the Count de Provence, and to place the son, whom, after the death of her husband, she acknowledged as King of France, on the throne which really belongs to him, and not to the Count de Provence! You are right, general, I must return to Europe; I must carry to Prance the papers which show that Louis XVII. did not die in the Temple, but was released. I am ready to go, and to endure the pain of parting from you."
"May God grant that we may both be compensated for this pain!" replied Kleber, embracing the young man tenderly. "There remain to us a few weeks to be together. Let us use them so that they shall afford us many cheerful recollections. Bonaparte will not leave Egypt before adding one more glory to his reputation. He does not mean to return to France as the conquered, but as the conqueror!"
General Kleber was right. He knew Bonaparte sufficiently well to be able to read his countenance; he understood the dumb speech of the Caesar of the age.
Bonaparte wanted to gain one great battle, in order to return to Europe with glory. He gained it at Aboukir, winning the day in a contest with the united Turks and English—one of the most signal victories that he had ever won. Eight thousand prisoners were taken on that 21st of July, 1799. Four thousand lay dead upon the battle- field, and as many were sunk in the captured and destroyed ships of the English. On the day after the battle the foam of the waves was tipped with blood along the shore.
Bonaparte himself conducted the whole battle, and personally gained the victory. At the moment when the contest seemed doubtful, he assumed command of a cavalry regiment, advanced upon the Turkish pacha, and by his heroic courage kindled all the army afresh. Even General Kleber could not disguise his admiration of the hero of Aboukir; and when, at the close of the battle, he met Bonaparte on the field, he embraced him with passionate tenderness. "General," he cried, with enthusiasm, "you are as great as the world; but the world is not great enough for you!" [Footnote: Denon, Mtooires, vol. i., p. 349.]
The victory that Bonaparte desired was thus won, and he could return with honor to Prance. He made secret preparations for his journey thither, fitting up two ships, which were to carry him and his companions. The army was to hear of his departure only after he had gone; but, much as he desired to keep the thing secret, there were some who had to know of it, and among them, happily, was General Kleber. Bonaparte had chosen him as his successor, and therefore he must be informed respecting the condition of affairs before the head of the army should withdraw. On the same day when this communication took place, Kleber repaired to General Desaix, who was his intimate friend, and from whom he learned that he was to be one of Bonaparte's companions on the return. The two generals had a prolonged secret interview, and at the close of it they both went to Kleber's house, and entered the room of his adjutant Louis. General Desaix bowed with great deference to the young man, who, blushing at the honor which so distinguished a general paid him, extended his hand to him. Desaix pressed a kiss upon it, and from his eyes, unused to tears, there fell a drop upon the young man's hand.
"General," cried Louis, in amazement, "what are you doing?"