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As this Apsheron battalion marched by, the red-faced

Miloradovich, without his greatcoat, with his Orders on his

breast and an enormous tuft of plumes in his cocked hat worn on

one side with its corners front and back, galloped strenuously

forward, and with a dashing salute reined in his horse before the

Emperor.

"God be with you, general!" said the Emperor.

"Ma foi, sire, nous ferons ce qui sera dans notre possibilite,

sire," * he answered gaily, raising nevertheless ironic smiles

among the gentlemen of the Tsar's suite by his poor French.

* "Indeed, Sire, we shall do everything it is possible to do,

Sire."

Miloradovich wheeled his horse sharply and stationed himself a

little behind the Emperor. The Apsheron men, excited by the

Tsar's presence, passed in step before the Emperors and their

suites at a bold, brisk pace.