his life. Would the allies at last and finally beat him; would Francis Joseph, weak monarch whom he hated, take back his daughter, and with her Napoleon's son, and bring him up in Austria to hate the name of France and his father? The Emperor groaned aloud. 

 The darkness fell upon the world outside, upon the room within, upon the soul of the great Captain approaching the nadir of his fortunes, his spirit almost at the breaking point. To him at last came Berthier and Maret. They had the right of entrance. The time for which he had asked had passed. Young Marteau admitted them without question. They entered the room slowly, not relishing their task, yet resolute to discharge their errand. The greater room outside was alight from fire and from lanterns. Enough illumination came through the door into the bed-chamber for their purpose—more than enough for the Emperor. He turned his head away, lest they should see what they should see. The two marshals bowed and stood silent. 

 "Well?" said the Emperor at last, his voice unduly harsh, as if to cover emotion with its roughness, and they noticed that he did not look at them. 

 "Sire, the courier of the Duke of Vicenza waits for his answer," said Maret. 

 There was another long pause. 

 "Will not your majesty give way for the good of the people?" urged Berthier.  "Give peace to France, sire. The army is hungry——" 

 "Am I God, messieurs, to feed thousands with a few loaves and fishes?" cried the Emperor bitterly. 

 "No, Sire. Therefore, authorize the duke to sign the treaty, and——" 

 "What!" said Napoleon fiercely, sitting up on the bed and facing them. "You would have me sign a treaty like that? Trample under foot my coronation oath? Unheard-of disaster may have snatched from me the promise to renounce my own conquests, but give up those before me, never! Leave France smaller, weaker than I found her! God keep me from such a disgrace. Reply to Caulaincourt, since you wish it, but tell him I reject this treaty. We must have better terms. I prefer to run the uttermost risks of war." 

 Berthier opened his mouth to speak again, but Napoleon silenced him with word and gesture. 

 "No more," he said.  "Go." 

 The two marshals bowed and left the room with downcast heads and resentful hearts.  

 Prev. P 17/217 next