Part 26 (1/2)

”Well, you can't stay here,” said the gendarme.

Mademoiselle de Cinq-Cygne and the marquis were, however, compelled to remain where they were on account of the darkness.

”Where are we?” she asked, stopping two officers whom she saw pa.s.sing, whose uniforms were concealed by cloth overcoats.

”You are among the advanced guard of the French army,” answered one of the officers. ”You cannot stay here, for if the enemy makes a movement and the artillery opens you will be between two fires.”

”Ah!” she said, with an indifferent air.

Hearing that ”Ah!” the other officer turned and said: ”How did that woman come here?”

”We are waiting,” said Laurence, ”for a gendarme who has gone to find General Duroc, a protector who will enable us to speak to the Emperor.”

”Speak to the Emperor!” exclaimed the first officer; ”how can you think of such a thing--on the eve of a decisive battle?”

”True,” she said; ”I ought to speak to him on the morrow--victory would make him kind.”

The two officers stationed themselves at a little distance and sat motionless on their horses. The carriage was now surrounded by a ma.s.s of generals, marshals, and other officers, all extremely brilliant in appearance, who appeared to pay deference to the carriage merely because it was there.

”Good G.o.d!” said the marquis to Mademoiselle de Cinq-Cygne; ”I am afraid you spoke to the Emperor.”

”The Emperor?” said a colonel, beside them, ”why there he is!” pointing to the officer who had said, ”How did that woman get here?” He was mounted on a white horse, richly caparisoned, and wore the celebrated gray top-coat over his green uniform. He was scanning with a field-gla.s.s the Prussian army ma.s.sed beyond the Saale. Laurence understood then why the carriage remained there, and why the Emperor's escort respected it.

She was seized with a convulsive tremor--the hour had come! She heard the heavy sound of the tramp of men and the clang of their arms as they arrived at a quick step on the plateau. The batteries had a language, the caissons thundered, the bra.s.s glittered.

”Marechal Lannes will take position with his whole corps in the advance; Marechal Lefebvre and the Guard will occupy this hill,” said the other officer, who was Major-general Berthier.

The Emperor dismounted. At his first motion Roustan, his famous mameluke, hastened to hold his horse. Laurence was stupefied with amazement; she had never dreamed of such simplicity.

”I shall pa.s.s the night on the plateau,” said the Emperor.

Just then the Grand-marechal Duroc, whom the gendarme had finally found, came up to the Marquis de Chargeboeuf and asked the reason of his coming. The marquis replied that a letter from the Prince de Talleyrand, of which he was the bearer, would explain to the marshal how urgent it was that Mademoiselle de Cinq-Cygne and himself should obtain an audience of the Emperor.

”His Majesty will no doubt dine at his bivouac,” said Duroc, taking the letter, ”and when I find out what your object is, I will let you know if you can see him. Corporal,” he said to the gendarme, ”accompany this carriage, and take it close to that hut at the rear.”

Monsieur de Chargeboeuf followed the gendarme and stopped his horses behind a miserable cabin, built of mud and branches, surrounded by a few fruit-trees, and guarded by pickets of infantry and cavalry.

It may be said that the majesty of war appeared here in all its grandeur. From this height the lines of the two armies were visible in the moonlight. After an hour's waiting, the time being occupied by the incessant coming and going of the aides-de-camp, Duroc himself came for Mademoiselle de Cinq-Cygne and the marquis, and made them enter the hut, the floor of which was of battened earth like that of a stable.

Before a table with the remains of dinner, and before a fire made of green wood which smoked, Napoleon was seated in a clumsy chair. His muddy boots gave evidence of a long tramp across country. He had taken off the famous top-coat; and his equally famous green uniform, crossed by the red cordon of the Legion of honor and heightened by the white of his kerseymere breeches and of his waistcoat, brought out vividly his pale and terrible Caesarian face. One hand was on a map which lay unfolded on his knees. Berthier stood near him in the brilliant uniform of the vice-constable of the Empire. Constant, the valet, was offering the Emperor his coffee from a tray.

”What do you want?” said Napoleon, with a show of roughness, darting his eye like a flash through Laurence's head. ”You are no longer afraid to speak to me before the battle? What is it about?”

”Sire,” she said, looking at him with as firm an eye, ”I am Mademoiselle de Cinq-Cygne.”

”Well?” he replied, in an angry voice, thinking her look braved him.

”Do you not understand? I am the Comtesse de Cinq-Cygne, come to ask mercy,” she said, falling on her knees and holding out to him the pet.i.tion drawn up by Talleyrand, endorsed by the Empress, by Cambaceres and by Malin.

The Emperor raised her graciously, and said with a keen look: ”Have you come to your senses? Do you now understand what the French Empire is and must be?”