Napoleon smiled, and looked with a joyous, sympathizing glance at the young officer, whose handsome pleasing countenance was radiant with bold daring and harmless merriment.

“Now, I need a brave messenger to carry this order to that exposed detachment,” said Napoleon.

“I will be the messenger,” cried out the officer, eagerly.

“Well, I accept you, but you must remove your uniform, and put on a blouse, so as not to be too much exposed.”

“That I will not do,” exclaimed the young man.  “I am no spy.”

“What! you refuse to obey?” asked Napoleon, threateningly.

“No, I refuse to assume a disguise,” answered the officer “I am ready to obey, and even to carry the order into the very hands of the devil.  But with my uniform I go, otherwise those cursed Englishmen might well imagine that I am afraid of them.”

“But you imperil your life if you go in your glittering uniform.”

“My life does not belong to me,” cried out gayly the young soldier.  “Who cares if I risk it?  You will not be sorry about it, for you know me not, citizen-officer, and it is all the same to me.  Shall I not go in my uniform?  I should be delighted to encounter those English gentlemen, for, with my sword and the sprightly grains in my patron’s pocket, the conversation will not sleep, I vow.  Now, then, shall I go, citizen-officer?”

“Go,” said Napoleon, smiling.  “But you are wrong if you think I will not be sorry in case you pay this duty with your life.  You are a brave fellow, and I love the brave.  Go; but first tell me your name, that when you return I may tell General Dugommier what name he has to inscribe in his papers of recommendation for officers; that will be the reward for your message.”

“My name is Junot, citizen-officer,” exclaimed the young man as, swinging the paper in his hand, he darted away eagerly.

The roar of the cannon was still heard, when Napoleon’s messenger returned, after a few hours, and reported to him.  The chief of division received him with a friendly motion of his head.

“Welcome, Junot,” said he.  “I am glad to see you back, and that you have successfully accomplished your task.  I must now make a change of position in yonder battallion.  To-morrow I will give you your commission of lieutenant, citizen-soldier.”

“And to-day grant me a nobler reward, citizen-officer,” said the young man, tenderly; “give me your hand, and allow me to press it in mine.”

Napoleon, smiling, gave him his hand.  The eyes of both young men met in radiant looks, and with these looks was sealed the covenant which united them both in a friendship enduring to the tomb.  For not one of his companions-in-arms remained attached to Napoleon with so warm, true, nearly impassioned tenderness as Junot, and none of them was by the general, the consul, the emperor, more implicitly trusted, more heartily beloved than his Junot, whom he exalted to the ranks of general, governor of Lisbon, Duke d’Abrantes, who was one of the few to whom in his days of glory he allowed to speak to him in all truth, in all freedom, and without reserve.