“My son, my last and only son, Marcel, is called out, M. le Marquis!”
“And you want to find a substitute for him. It shall be done. I will set about it without an hour’s delay.”
“M. le Marquis, it cannot be done; there are no more substitutes to be had. I would give every penny I possess to get one, but there are none left. The widows’ only sons were the last spared, and now they must go. Marcel has been to the prefecture, and they told him there was no help for it: he must join the new levy to-morrow at X——M. le Marquis, have pity on me! It will kill me to let him go; and, oh! it is so dreadful to see the boy.”
“He is frightened at the prospect of going to battle?” There was an imperceptible ring of scorn under the courteous tone of the aristocrat as he put the question.
“He is mad with delight, M. le Marquis; he has always been wild to follow his brothers and be killed as they were.”
“Brave lad! But he shall not have his wish; he shall not be made food for Bonaparte’s cannon,” said the Marquis. “Go home in peace, madame, and break the bad news to him as tenderly as you can.”
“Thank God! God bless you, M. le Marquis!” said the widow fervently. “But is it indeed possible? I can hardly believe in so great a joy.”
M. le Marquis was silent for a moment, as if making a calculation; then he said musingly:
“The emperor is in Paris to-day; I will start in an hour from this and see him to-night. He owes me something. I never thought to have asked a favor at his hands; but I will stoop to ask him that your son be exempted from the service.”
“O M. le Marquis!” Mme. Caboff began to cry with joy; but remembering suddenly that this great emperor was conquering the whole world and turning kings in and out like valets—for Gondriac heard of his fine doings and was very proud of them—it occurred to her that he might by possibility refuse a request proffered even by so great a man as M. le Marquis. “You think his majesty is sure not to refuse you, monsieur?” she added timidly.