Finally, there were those Poles who had
fought in Spain for Napoleon, hoping that in return he would some
day set the ancient kingdom upon its feet among the nations.
Already the whisperers pointed to Davoust as the future king of the
new Poland.
Many present at the farewell reception of the Governor carried a
sword, though they were the merest civilians, plotting, counter-
plotting, and whispering a hundred rumours. Perhaps Rapp himself,
speaking bluff French with a German accent, was as honest as any man
in the room, though he lacked the polish of the Parisian and had not
the subtlety of the Pole. Rapp was not a shining light in these
brilliant circles. He was a Governor not for peace, but for war.
His day was yet to come.
Such men as de Casimir shrugged their supple shoulders at his simple
talk. They spoke of him half-contemptuously as of one who had had a
thousand chances and had never taken them. He was not even rich,
and he had handled great sums of money. He was only a General, and
he had slept in the Emperor's tent--had had access to him in every
humour. He might do the same again in the coming campaign. He was
worth cultivating. De Casimir and his like were full of smiles
which in no wise deceived the shrewd Alsatian.
Mathilde Sebastian was among the ladies to whom these brilliant
warriors paid their uncouth compliments. Perhaps de Casimir was
aware that her measuring eyes followed him wherever he went.
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