to sleep. They werenearly out of their minds about me at home. A couple of days after this,Napoleon’s page, De Bazancour, died; he had not been able to stand thetrials of the campaign. Napoleon remembered me; I was taken away withoutexplanation; the dead page’s uniform was tried on me, and when I wastaken before the emperor, dressed in it, he nodded his head to me, and Iwas told that I was appointed to the vacant post of page.
“Well, I was glad enough, for I had long felt the greatest sympathy forthis man; and then the pretty uniform and all that--only a child, youknow--and so on. It was a dark green dress coat with gold buttons--redfacings, white trousers, and a white silk waistcoat--silk stockings,shoes with buckles, and top-boots if I were riding out with his majestyor with the suite.
“Though the position of all of us at that time was not particularlybrilliant, and the poverty was dreadful all round, yet the etiquette atcourt was strictly preserved, and the more strictly in proportion to thegrowth of the forebodings of disaster.”
“Quite so, quite so, of course!” murmured the poor prince, who didn’tknow where to look. “Your memoirs would be most interesting.”
The general was, of course, repeating what he had told Lebedeff thenight before, and thus brought it out glibly enough, but here he lookedsuspiciously at the prince out of the corners of his eyes.
“My memoirs!” he began, with redoubled pride and dignity. “Write mymemoirs? The idea has not tempted me. And yet, if you please, my memoirshave long been written, but they shall not see the light until dustreturns to dust. Then, I doubt not, they will be translated into alllanguages, not of course on account of their actual literary merit, butbecause of the great events of which I was the actual witness, thoughbut a child at the time. As a child, I was able to penetrate into thesecrecy of the great man’s private room. At nights I have heard thegroans and wailings of this ‘giant in distress.’ He could feel no shamein weeping before such a mere child as I was, though I understood eventhen that the reason for his suffering was the silence of the EmperorAlexander.”
“Yes, of course; he had written letters to the latter with proposals ofpeace, had he not?” put in the prince.
“We did not know the details of his proposals, but he wrote letter afterletter, all day and every day. He was dreadfully agitated. Sometimes atnight I would throw myself upon his breast with tears (Oh, how Iloved that man!). ‘Ask forgiveness, Oh, ask forgiveness of the EmperorAlexander!’ I would cry. I should have said, of course, ‘Make peacewith Alexander,’ but as a child I expressed my idea in the naive wayrecorded. ‘Oh, my child,’ he would say (he loved to talk to me andseemed to forget my tender years), ‘Oh, my child, I am ready to kissAlexander’s feet, but I hate and abominate the King of Prussia and theAustrian Emperor, and--and--but you know nothing of politics, my child.’He would pull up, remembering whom he was speaking to, but his eyeswould sparkle for a long while after this. Well now, if I were todescribe all this, and I have seen greater events than these, all thesecritical gentlemen of the press and political parties--Oh, no thanks!I’m their very humble servant, but no thanks!”
“Quite so--parties--you are very right,” said the prince. “I was readinga book about Napoleon and the Waterloo campaign only the other day, byCharasse, in which the author does not attempt to conceal his joy atNapoleon’s discomfiture at every page. Well now, I don’t like that;it smells of ‘party,’ you know. You are quite right. And were you muchoccupied with your service under Napoleon?”
The general was in ecstasies, for the prince’s remarks, made, as theyevidently were, in all seriousness and simplicity, quite dissipated thelast relics of his suspicion.
“I know Charasse’s book! Oh! I was so angry with his work! I wrote tohim and said--I forget what, at this moment. You ask whether I was verybusy under the Emperor? Oh no! I was called ‘page,’ but hardly took myduty seriously. Besides, Napoleon very soon lost hope of conciliatingthe Russians, and he would have forgotten all about me had he not lovedme--for personal reasons--I don’t mind saying so now. My heart wasgreatly drawn to him, too. My duties were light. I merely had to be atthe palace occasionally to escort the Emperor out riding, and thatwas about all. I rode very fairly well. He used to have a ride beforedinner, and his suite on those occasions were generally Davoust, myself,and Roustan.”
“Constant?” said the prince, suddenly, and quite involuntarily.
“No; Constant was away then, taking a letter to the Empress Josephine.Instead of him there were always a couple of orderlies--and that wasall, excepting, of course, the generals and marshals whom Napoleonalways took with him for the inspection of various localities, andfor the sake of consultation generally. I remember there wasone--Davoust--nearly always with him--a big man with spectacles. Theyused to argue and quarrel sometimes. Once they were in the Emperor’sstudy together--just those two and myself--I was unobserved--andthey argued, and the Emperor seemed to be agreeing to something underprotest. Suddenly his eye fell on me and an idea seemed to flash acrosshim.
“‘Child,’ he said, abruptly. ‘If I were to recognize the Russianorthodox religion and emancipate the serfs, do you think Russia wouldcome over to me?’”
“‘Never!’ I cried, indignantly.”
“The Emperor was much struck.”
“‘In the flashing eyes of this patriotic child I read and accept thefiat of the Russian people. Enough, Davoust, it is mere phantasy on ourpart. Come, let’s hear your other project.’”
“Yes, but that was a great idea,” said the prince, clearly interested.“You ascribe it to Davoust, do you?”
“Well, at all events, they were consulting together at the time. Ofcourse it was the idea of an eagle, and must have originated withNapoleon; but the other project was good too--it was the ‘Conseil dulion!’ as Napoleon called it. This project consisted in a proposalto occupy the Kremlin with the whole army; to arm and fortify itscientifically, to kill as many horses as could be got, and salt theirflesh, and spend the winter there; and in spring to fight their way out.Napoleon liked the idea--it attracted him. We rode round the Kremlinwalls every day, and Napoleon used to give orders where they were to bepatched, where built up, where pulled down and so on. All was decided atlast. They were alone together--those two and myself.
“Napoleon was walking up and down with folded arms. I could not take myeyes off his face--my heart beat loudly and painfully.
“‘I’m off,’ said Davoust. ‘Where to?’ asked Napoleon.
“‘To salt horse-flesh,’ said Davoust. Napoleon shuddered--his fate wasbeing decided.
“‘Child,’ he addressed me suddenly, ‘what do you think of our plan?’ Ofcourse he only applied to me as a sort of toss-up, you know. I turned toDavoust and addressed my reply to him. I said, as though inspired:
“‘Escape, general! Go home!--’
“The project was abandoned; Davoust shrugged his shoulders and went out,whispering to himself--‘_Bah, il devient superstitieux!_’ Next morning theorder to retreat was given.”
“All this is most interesting,” said the prince, very softly, “if itreally was so--that is, I mean--” he hastened to correct himself.
“Oh, my dear prince,” cried the general, who was now so intoxicated withhis own narrative that he probably could not have pulled up at themost patent indiscretion. “You say, ‘if it really was so!’ There wasmore--_much_ more, I assure you! These are merely a few little politicalacts. I tell you I was the eye-witness of the nightly sorrow andgroanings of the great man, and of _that_ no one can speak but myself.Towards the end he wept no more, though he continued to emit anoccasional groan; but his face grew more overcast day by day, asthough Eternity were wrapping its gloomy mantle about him. Occasionallywe passed whole hours of silence together at night, Roustan snoringin the next room--that fellow slept like a pig. ‘But he’s loyal to meand my dynasty,’ said Napoleon of him.
“Sometimes it was very painful to me, and once he caught me with tearsin my eyes. He looked at me kindly. ‘You are sorry for me,’ he said,‘you, m
y child, and perhaps one other child--my son, the King ofRome--may grieve for me. All the rest hate me; and my brothers are thefirst to betray me in misfortune.’ I sobbed and threw myself into hisarms. He could not resist me--he burst into tears, and our tears mingledas we folded each other in a close embrace.
“‘Write, oh, write a letter to the Empress Josephine!’ I cried, sobbing.Napoleon started, reflected, and said, ‘You remind me of a third heartwhich loves me. Thank you, my friend;’ and then and there he sat downand wrote that letter to Josephine, with which Constant was sent offnext day.”
“You did a good action,” said the prince, “for in the midst of his angryfeelings you insinuated a kind thought into his heart.”
“Just so, prince, just so. How well you bring out that fact! Becauseyour own heart is good!” cried the ecstatic old gentleman, and,strangely enough, real tears glistened in his eyes. “Yes, prince, it wasa wonderful spectacle. And, do you know, I all but went off to Paris,and should assuredly have shared his solitary exile with him; but, alas,our destinies were
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