"Mademoiselle Laure--she--the wagon-train--the castle----" His voice died away, his eyes closed.

Frantically the young man recalled his father to his senses again.
"It's no use," whispered the old man, "a ball in the breast.

I am going.

What do you here ?" "On the service of the Emperor," answered the young officer.

"Father, speak to me!" "Alas--poor--France," came the words slowly, one by one, and then--silence.
Marteau had seen death too many times not to know it now.