Throgmorten.
GENERAL BUONAPARTE.
FOR LOVE OF A BEDOUIN MAID
1ST EPOCH.
GENERAL BUONAPARTE.
CHAPTER I.
The march of civilization has been so rapid that most people know something of the City of Paris.
It is not, however, with the modern city that this story will deal; not with the gay, ever moving throng of boulevardiers that crowd its thoroughfares at night under the glare of electric light, the welcome product of this ever inventive and luxurious nineteenth century; but with Paris at the close of the eighteenth century; Paris before the era of Baron Hausemann, ill-lighted, ill-paved and, at this moment, noiseless and, for the most part, asleep. For it was the night of December 6th, 1797. The rain was falling fast, dripping almost in sheets from the roofs of the houses that overhung the narrow, tortuous streets, now deep in mud. At long intervals, where they had not been extinguished by the wind, a few oil lamps were suspended from chains, the fitful light they gave serving only to render visible the gloom.
An unpleasant night to be abroad; so thought two foot passengers who were standing under one of the afore mentioned lamps opposite to the Palais de Luxembourg, at that time the residence of the Directors of the French Republic.
"Pest on it, the night grows worse and worse," said the shorter of the two, drawing his long cloak more closely round him and pulling his slouch hat further over his eyes, to prevent the driving rain, that the wind hurled along, from dashing into his face.