He slid away in the darkness and both John and Lannes spoke well of him
as they returned to the house. Picard admitted them.

"May I ask, sir, if there is any news that favors France?" he said to
Philip.

"Not yet, my good Antoine, but it is surely coming."

John heard the giant Frenchman smother a sigh, but he made no comment,
and walked softly with Lannes to the little room high up that had been
assigned to him. Here when he was alone with his candle he looked around
curiously.

The room was quite simple, not containing much furniture, in truth,
nothing of any note save on the wall a fine picture of the great Marshal
Lannes, Napoleon's dauntless fighter, and stern republican, despite the
ducal title that he took. It was a good portrait, painted perhaps by
some great artist, and John holding up the candle, looked at it a long
time.

He thought he could trace some likeness to Philip. Lannes' face was
always stern, in repose, far beyond his years, although when he became
animated it had all the sunniness of youth. But he noticed now that he
had the same tight lips of the Marshal, and the same unfaltering eyes.

"Duke of Montebello!" said John to himself. "Well, you won that title
grandly, and while the younger Lannes may do as well, if the chance
comes to him, the new heroes of France will be neither dukes nor
princes."