“Then I have only to crave your majesty’s forgiveness for my intrusion.” M. de Gondriac bowed and was moving towards the door, when the emperor called out:
“Stay a moment. What motive have you in pleading this widow’s cause so strongly?”
The marquis in a few words told the story of that memorable night when Caboff saved him at the cost of his own life. The emperor listened to the end without interrupting him; then he resumed his walk, and, speaking from the other end of the room, “You are naturally anxious to pay back so heavy a debt,” he said. “Would this feeling carry you the length of making some sacrifice?”
How could Bonaparte ask the question? Did not M. de Gondriac’s presence here to-night answer it exhaustively?
“I think I have proved that, sire,” he answered coldly.
The emperor was silent for a while; then, turning round, he looked fixedly at the marquis and said:
“I withdraw my unconditional refusal. I will let you know to-morrow on what terms I consent to exempt the son of your deliverer from dying on the field of battle.”
M. de Gondriac bowed low. “I have the honor to salute your majesty.”
“Au revoir, marquis.”
What did he mean, and what was this condition so mysteriously hinted at, and only to be declared after the night’s preparation?