they dined at the imperial table. Their uniform, upon which fabulous sums were expended, was a mantle of scarlet, with a massive silver cuirass bearing a large Maltese cross in relief; and the trappings of their priceless Arabian horses glittered with gold and jewels. Ivan, knowing all this, remained silent, his face a curious mixture of intense gratification and extreme embarrassment.
The kind old general beckoned him nearer and spoke in a lower tone. "I believe I understand your feelings, my young friend. You are thinking of the expenses the gentlemen of the Chevalier Guard usually take pride and pleasure in incurring—of their armour, their horses, and so forth. Upon that ground you need hesitate no longer. His Imperial Majesty has requested me to attend to all your requirements."
"His goodness overpowers me," said Ivan with emotion. "But, my general, that is not my only nor my chief reason for hesitation."
"What other can you possibly have? My own grandson would give one of his eyes to be in your place."
"My general, Napoleon is near Moscow, and the Chevaliers of the Imperial Guard are, I believe, in St. Petersburg."
"So that is your objection! But they have not been there always, and they are not going to remain there now."
"Is it not their duty and their honour to remain near the august person of their sovereign? and that—"
Soltikoff interrupted him with a smile. "Make your mind easy, my young friend. The red mantles of the Chevalier Guard will soon have the opportunity of acquiring a deeper dye. Already they have received their marching orders, and in a few days they start for the seat of war. There is barely time for your equipment and your investiture, if you wish to go with them."
"Wish it!" cried Ivan, with kindling eyes. "Whilst Napoleon—who has spoiled Moscow and burned the Kremlin—still his foot upon the soil of holy Russia, I could not support
