"Are you not pleased at our invasion of France?" asked Eugene.
"Ay, that am I," replied he, with a bitter smile. "I have long hoped for this invasion, and I thank God that it is at hand."
"You are ambitious to wear the epaulets of a captain, I presume?"
"No, general, no. I care nothing for military finery."
"Why, then, have you longed to march to France?"
"Because I hunger and thirst for French blood. General, I implore you, give me a body of men, and let me initiate our invasion of France by giving the French a taste of guerrilla warfare."
"Are you so sanguinary, young man?" asked Eugene, in amazement. "Do you not know that war itself should be conducted with humanity, and that we should never forget our common brotherhood with our enemies!"
"No, general, I know it not, nor do I wish to know it. I know that the French have left me without kindred, without home, without ties; and that they have transformed me—a man whose heart once beat with sympathy and love for all living creatures—into a tiger, that craves blood, and mocks at suffering."
"Unhappy man!" exclaimed Eugene, sadly. "Then you have suffered wrong at the hands of the French?"
The young man heaved a convulsive sigh.