“Will you, sir, abandon me?” Hulot stammered.

Marshal Hulot, hearing that only his brother was with the Minister, ventured at this juncture to come in, and, like all deaf people, went straight up to the Prince.

“Oh,” cried the hero of Poland, “I know what you are here for, my old friend!  But we can do nothing.”

“Do nothing!” echoed Marshal Hulot, who had heard only the last word.

“Nothing; you have come to intercede for your brother.  But do you know what your brother is?”

“My brother?” asked the deaf man.

“Yes, he is a damned infernal blackguard, and unworthy of you.”

The Marshal in his rage shot from his eyes those fulminating fires which, like Napoleon’s, broke a man’s will and judgment.

“You lie, Cottin!” said Marshal Hulot, turning white.  “Throw down your baton as I throw mine!  I am ready.”

The Prince went up to his old comrade, looked him in the face, and shouted in his ear as he grasped his hand: 

“Are you a man?”

“You will see that I am.”

“Well, then, pull yourself together!  You must face the worst misfortune that can befall you.”

The Prince turned round, took some papers from the table, and placed them in the Marshal’s hands, saying, “Read that.”

The Comte de Forzheim read the following letter, which lay uppermost:—­

  “To his Excellency the President of the Council.

“Private and Confidential.

“ALGIERS.

  “MY DEAR PRINCE,—­We have a very ugly business on our hands, as
  you will see by the accompanying documents.

“The story, briefly told, is this:  Baron Hulot d’Ervy sent out to the province of Oran an uncle of his as a broker in grain and forage, and gave him an accomplice in the person of a storekeeper.  This storekeeper, to curry favor, has made a confession, and finally made his escape.  The Public Prosecutor took the matter up very thoroughly, seeing, as he supposed, that only two inferior agents were implicated; but Johann Fischer, uncle to your Chief of the Commissariat Department, finding that he was to be brought up at the Assizes, stabbed himself in prison with a nail.

“That would have been the end of the matter if this worthy and honest man, deceived, it would seem, by his agent and by his nephew, had not thought proper to write to Baron Hulot.  This letter, seized as a document, so greatly surprised the Public Prosecutor, that he came to see me.  Now, the arrest and public trial of a Councillor of State would be such a terrible thing—­of a man high in office too, who has a good record for loyal service —­for after the Beresina, it was he who saved us all by reorganizing the administration—­that I desired to have all the papers sent to me.

  “Is the matter to take its course?  Now that the principal agent is
  dead, will it not be better to smother up the affair and sentence
  the storekeeper in default?