“Well，Iwill，“criedFouche。“IntheglamourofpoliticalpassionsIhaveraisedmyvoiceagainstthelifeofyourfather；fullofregretIwillraisemyvoiceforthelifeoftheson，andassisthimtoenterafreshuponlifeandintothesocietyofmen。Youngman，I
willgiveyouanameandrank，tilltheFrenchnationrestoretoyouyourtruenameandrank。YoushallhenceforthbecalledtheBarondeRichemont。Willyouacceptit？“
“Yes，Iwillacceptit，“saidLouis，gently。“TobetheBarondeRichemontisbetterthantobeadeadandburiedpersonwithoutanyname。“
“Verygood，mylordbaron，“criedFouche，“Iwillhavethenecessarycertificatesandpapersmadeout，andenteryourpropertyintheBankofFranceunderthenameoftheBarondeRichemont。Ifyouplease，cometo-morrowtome，andIwilldelivertoyouthepapersofMonsieurdeRichemont。“
“Ishallcome，besureofthat，“saidLouis，givinghimhishand；
“itseemstomemyfatetogoincognitothroughlife，andGodaloneknowswhetherIshalleverabandonthisincognito。“
HesalutedFouchewithasadsmile，andwentout。Theministerlistenedtotheresoundingfootstep，andthenbrokeoutintoloud，mockinglaughter。
“Foolishboy!“hesaid，raisinghishandthreateningly，“foolishboy!YousupposethatonlyGodknowswhetheryouwillevercomeoutofyourincognito。Youmistake——besidesGod，Foucheknowsit。Yes，Foucheknowsthatthisincognitoextendsoveryoulikeanet，fromwhichyouneverwillescape。No，theBarondeRichemontshallneverbetransformedintoKingLouisXVII。ButheshallbeaninstrumentwithwhichIwillholdincheckthisambitiousConsulBonaparte，whoisstriving；forthethrone，andthisgraspingCountdeLille，whoinhisexilecallshimselfKingLouisXVIII——theinstrumentwithwhichIthreatenwhenIamthreatened。Only，mylittleBarondeRichemont，IdonotknowwhatIcanmakeoutofyou，butIknowthatyoushallmakeoutofmearich，dangerous，anddreadedman。Poor，credulousfool!HoweasilyyoufallintothepitiTheBarondeRichemontshallneverescapefromit。Ivouchforit——I，Fouche!“
TheFirstConsulwaswalkingwithhastystepsupanddownhiscabinet。Hiseyesflashed，andhisface，whichelsewherewasimpenetrable，likethatofthebrazenstatuesoftheRomanemperors，disclosedthefieryimpatienceandstormypassionswhichragedwithinhim。Hislips，whichwerepressedcloselytogether，openednowandthentomutterawordofthreateningorofanger，andthatwordhehurledlikeapoisonedarrowdirectlyatthemanwho，inarespectfulattitudeandwithpallidcheeks，stoodnotfarfromthedoor，nearthetablecoveredwithpapers——ThismanwasFouche，formerlythechiefofpoliceinParis，andnowamerememberofthesenateoftherepublic。HehadgonetotheTuileriesinordertorequestasecretaudienceofBonaparte，whohadnowforgottenthelittleprefixof“First“tohisconsulartitle，andnowreignedsupremeandaloneoverFrance。
Bonapartesuddenlypausedinhisrapidwalk，comingtoahaltdirectlyinfrontofFouche，andlookedathimwithflamingeyes，asiftheyweretwodaggerswithwhichhemeanttopiercedeepintohisheart。ButFouchedidnotseethis，forhestoodwithdowncasteyes，andappearednottobeawarethatBonapartewassonearhim。
“Fouche，“criedtheconsul，violently，“Iknowyou，andIamnottobedeceivedbyyourindifferent，affectedair!YoushallknowthatI
donotfearyou——youandalltheghoststhatyoucanconjureup。Youthinkthatyoufrightenme；youwishthatIshouldpayyoudearlyforyoursecret。ButyoushallknowthatIamnotatallofatimorousnature，andthatIshallpaynomoneyforthesolutionofariddlewhichImayperhapsbeabletosolvewithoutyourhelp。I
warnyou，sir，yousecret-vender，bewellonyourguard!Youhaveyourspies，butIhavemypolice，andtheyinformmeabouteverythingoutoftheusualcourse。Itisknown，sir，thatyouarecarryingonacorrespondencewithpeopleoutofthecountry——
understandme，withpeopleoutofthecountry!“
“Consul，“repliedFouche，calmly，“Ihavecertainlynotknownthattherepublicforbidsitsfaithfulservantstosendlettersabroad。“
“Therepublicwillneverallowoneofitsservantstocorrespondwithitsenemies，“criedBonaparte，inthunderingtones。“Besilent，sir!noevasions，nocircumlocutions!Letusspeakplainly，andtothepoint。YouareincorrespondencewiththeCountdeLille。“
“Youknowthat，consul，forIhavehadthehonortogiveyoualettermyself，whichthepretenderdirectedtoyou，andsenttometobedelivered。“
“Aridiculous，nonsensicalletter，“repliedBonaparte，withashrug；
“aletterinwhichthisfooldemandsofmetobringhimbacktoFrance，andtoindicatetheplacewhichIwishtooccupyinhisgovernment。Bymyword，anidiotcouldnotwriteamorecrazydocument!IamtoindicatetheplacewhichIwishtooccupyinhisgovernment!Well，Ishalldothat；buttherewillbenoplaceleftnearmefortheBourbons，whomFrancehasspewedout，asonespewsoutmortalpoison。ThesehatedandweakBourbonsshallneverattaintopowerandprestigeagain。Prancehasturnedawayfromthem。
Franceabhorsthisdegenerateraceofkings；itwillerectanewedificeofpowerandglory，buttherewillbenoroominitfortheBourbons!Markthat，intriguer，andbuildnoair-castlesonit。I
demandofyouanopenconfession，forIshallaccuseyonasatraitorandaroyalist。“
“Consul，Ishallnotavoidthischarge，“repliedFouche，calmly，“andIampersuadedthatPrancewillfollowwithinterestthecourseofatrialwhichwillunveilanimportantsecret——whichwillinformitthattherightfulKingofFrance，accordingtotheopinionofConsulBonaparte，didnotdieintheTempleunderthetendercareofSimonthecobbler，butisstillalive，andis，therefore，thetrueheirofthecrown。Thatwouldoccasionsomejoytotheroyalists，surely!“
Theconsulstampedonthefloorwithrage，hiseyesshotflames，andwhenhespokeagain，hisvoiceranglikepealsofthunder，soangrilyandsopowerfullydiditpourforth。
“Iwillchangethepaecansandthejoyoftheseroyaliststolamentationsandwailings，“hecried。“AlltheenemiesofFranceshallknowthatIholdtheswordinmyhands，andmeantouseit，notonlyagainstfoeswithout，butfoeswithin。Francehasgivenmethissword，andIshallnotlayitdown，evenifallthekingsofEurope，andalltheBourbonswholieinthevaultsofSt。Denis，leavetheirgraves，todemanditfromme!IamthelivingswordofFrance，andnevershallthisswordbowbeforethesceptreofaBourbon。Freshshootsmightsoonerspringfromthedeadstickwhichthewanderercarriesthroughthedesert，thanaBourbonsceptrecouldgrowfromtheswordofBonaparte；andallthesame，whetherthisBourboncallshimselfLouisXVII。orLouisXVIII。!Markthat，Fouche，andmarkalsothatwhenIoncesay’Iwill，’Ishallknowhowtomakemywillgood，evenifthewholeworldventurestoconfrontme。“
“Iknowthat，consul，“saidFouche，withdeference。“Godgaveyou，forthewealofFrance，anironwillandabrainoffire，anddestinedyoutowearnotonlylaurels，butcrowns。“
AflameglaredfromtheeyesoftheconsulandplayedoverthefaceofFouche，butthelatterappearednottonoticeit，forhecastdownhiseyesagain，andhismannerwaseasyandunconstrained。
“Younowspeakawordwhichisnotbecoming，“saidBonaparte，calmly。“Iamthefirstservantoftherepublic，andinarepublictherearenocrowns。“
“Notcitizens’crowns，general？“askedFouche，withafaintsmile。
“Imean，thatthisnoblestofcrownscaneverywherebeacceptable，andnoheadhasmeritedsuchacrownmorethanthenobleConsulBonaparte，whohasmadetherepublicofFranceaworthyrivalofitssisterinNorthAmerica。“
Bonapartethrewhisheadproudlyback。“Iamnotambitiousofthehonor，“hesaid，“ofbeingWashingtonofFrance。“
“Yetyouarehe，general，“repliedFouche，withasmile。“OnlytheWashingtonofFrancedoesnotliveintheWhiteHousewhicharepublichasbuilt，butintheTuileries，whichhehasreceivedastheheiroftheFrenchkings。General，astheworthiest，thegreatest，themostpowerful，andthemostsignallycalled，youhavecomeintothepossessionoftheinheritanceofthekingsofFrance。
FortothisinheritancebelongsalsothecrownofFrance。Whydoyourefusethis，whileacceptingalltherest？“
“AndwhatifIshowyouthatIdonotwantit？“askedBonaparte。
“AndwhatifIshouldtellyouthatIdonotfeelmyselfworthytoassumethewhole，undividedinheritanceoftheBourbons？Wouldyoubefoolishandsenselessenoughtobelievesuchanidletale？“
“Consul，youhavealreadydonesomanythingsthatarewonderful，andhavebroughtsomanymagiccharmstoreality，thatInolongerholdanythingtobeimpossible，assoonasyouhavelaidyourhanduponit。“
“Andthereforeyouholdaconcealedmagician’swand，whichyouproposetodrawforthatsomedecisivemoment，andpresenttome，asthecrossispresentedtoBeelzebubinthetale？“
“Idonotunderstandyou，consul，“repliedFouche，withthemostinnocentairintheworld。
“Well，then，Iwillmakemyselfintelligible。Themagician’swand，whichyouarekeepingconcealed，iscalledLouisXVII。Oh!donotshakeyourcunninghead；donotdenywithyoursmoothlips，whichonceutteredthedeath-sentenceofLouisXVI。，andwhichnowareusedtoteachafoolandapretenderthatheisthesonofthemurderedking。Truly，itisridiculous。Theregicidewantstoatoneforhisoffencebyhatchingafable，andmakingakingoutofamanikin。“
“General，nofable，andnomanikin，“criedFouche，withathreateningvoice。“Thesonoftheunfortunatekingisalive，and——“
“Ah!“interruptedBonaparte，triumphantly，“soyouconfessatlast，yourevealyourgreatsecretatlength!Ihavedriventheslyfoxoutofhisholeandthehuntcannowbegin。Itwillbeahotchase，Ipromiseyou，andIshallnotresttillIhavedrawntheskinovertheearsofthefox，or——“
“Untilhesayshispaterpeccavi？“askedFouche，withagentlesmile。
“UntilhedeliverstomethechangelingwhomhewantstouseashisDeusexmachina，“repliedBonaparte。“Mydearsir，ithelpsyounotatalltobeginagainthissystemoflies。Yourangerhasbetrayedyou，andIhavesucceededinoutwittingthefox。Theso-called’sonofthekingisalive；’thathasescapedyou，andyoucannottakeitback。“