"Your majesty perceives," said the old man, looking proudly around him, "that if I have sabred many a Turk's head, I have replaced each one by that of a Christian; so that I owe nothing to humanity for the damage my sword has done.—Now, boys, cry out, 'Long live the emperor!'"
So the boys, young and old, echoed the shout; the regiment took it up, and for the third time Leopold's heart was cheered by the enthusiastic affection of the army.
"Well, Christopher," said he, gayly, "although you reject my pension for yourself, you will not, I hope, reject it for your sons. Let it be divided between them, and long may you live to see them enjoy it!"
With these words, the emperor raised his hat, and waving it in token of adieu, he returned to his tent, far happier than he had left it some hours before.
"Carl," said he to the Duke of Lorraine, "I thank you for presenting Christopher III to my notice. That old man's spirit is catching, and I feel the pleasant infection. I recognize the might of bravery, and it seems as if my small army had doubled its numbers. This veteran, who in his person unites the history of six of my predecessors, has taught me that individuals are nothing in the sight of God. Six emperors have succumbed to the immutable laws of Nature, but the house of Hapsburg is still erect. What, then, if I meet with reverses? The Lord has given me a son, who, if I should be unfortunate, will prop up our dynasty, and avenge his father's misfortunes."
"We will try to leave him none to avenge, sire. Your men are full of loyalty, and God will preserve your majesty's life until your son is fit to be your successor."
"His holy will be done!" said Leopold, crossing himself; then, having given orders for an advance upon the fortress of Neuhausel, he changed his dress preparatory to starting for Vienna.
He had just been equipped in his black travelling-suit when Prince Louis of Baden entered the tent, followed by a young man whose simple costume presented a striking contrast to the magnificence of the uniforms around. He wore a brown coat buttoned up to the throat, leaving visible merely the ends of his cravat of costly Venetian lace. Ruffles of the same encircled his white hands, which, it was easy to see, had never been hardened by work, or browned by the sun. His face, though youthful, bore traces of thought and suffering; and his bearing was self-possessed, although every eye was upon him.
"Whom bring you hither?" inquired Leopold, with a smile.
"Your majesty, I bring nothing but a young Savoyard: nevertheless I predict that, one of these days, he will be one of the great generals of the world." [Footnote: The Margrave of Baden's own words.—See Arinatli, "Prince Eugene," vol. i., p. 23.]