The King of Naples seeks to save the throne on which I established him by withdrawing from me now--the poor fool! The way to Paris along the Marne is open, and Bluecher is marching on the capital with eighty thousand Russians, Prussians and Bavarians.

Schwarzenburg with many more is close at hand." Something like a hollow groan broke from the breasts of the auditors as the fateful dispatches fell one by one from the Emperor's hand.

The secretaries stopped writing and stared.

The young officer by the door clenched his hands.
"Sire----," said one of the officers, the rich trappings of whose dress indicated that he was a Marshal of France.

He began boldly but ended timidly.