Part 48 (1/2)
”Your majesty has a twofold right to complain,” said Maret, in his calm voice; ”Junot loved your majesty with the obedience of a servant, the submissiveness of a child, the enthusiasm of a pupil, the ardor of a friend. He would have gone through fire for you, and he was justified in saying that he loved your majesty with the love the savage feels for the sun. Your majesty was his sun!”
”Yes, he loved me,” said Napoleon, in a low voice, dropping his head on his breast, ”and I could count upon his fidelity. We had spent our youth together, had overcome together a thousand dangers, and courageously braved the vicissitudes of fate. His star had risen with mine. Will not mine sink with his? Oh, Junot, how could you leave me now, when you knew that I stood so greatly in need of you?
Junot, this is the first time that you desert me, and forget your plighted faith. I am on the eve of a great and doubtful war, surrounded by enemies--and my friends are deserting me and escaping into the grave!” He paused, bowing his head lower upon his breast, and wrinkling his forehead in his grief. A sad silence ensued, which Maret dared not interrupt, by a motion or a word. At length, the emperor raised his, face again, resuming his usual coldness and indifference. ”Maret,” he said, in a firm voice, ”I have no one in Illyria now, since Junot, governor of that province, has died. I must send another governor. But whom?”
”Sire,” said Maret, in a timid voice, ”will you not take the proposals of Austria into consideration? She demands nothing but Illyria as the price of her alliance and friends.h.i.+p. Fate itself seems to give us a sign to grant this demand, for it has removed the governor of Illyria.”
”Fate!” cried Napoleon, shrugging his shoulders, ”you only acknowledge its hints when it suits your purposes; you deny its existence when it would seem to be contrary to your wishes. Fate caused the governor of Illyria to die, because, as you yourself said, he was subject to fits of insanity; it has thereby given me an opportunity to place a sensible and prudent man in Junot's stead, a man who will not dare tell me such impudent things as you read to me from his letter. Well, then, I will obey the hint of Fate. Write immediately to Fouche. He is at Naples; tell him to set out at once and come to Dresden. I intend to appoint him governor of Illyria.
Dispatch a courier with the letter. But wait! I have not yet read all the dispatches brought from Paris.”
He stepped back to the table, and took one of the letters from it.
”A letter from the Duke de Rovigo,” he said, in a contemptuous tone, ”from the police minister of Paris! He will tell me a great many stories; he will pretend to have seen many evil spirits, and, after all, not know half of what he ought to know, and what Fouche would have known if he still held that position. There, read it, Maret, and communicate the most important pa.s.sages to me.” He threw himself into the chair that stood in front of his desk, and, taking a penknife, commenced whittling the wooden side-arm, while Maret unfolded the dispatch and quickly glanced over its contents.
”Sire,” he said, ”this dispatch contains surprising news. It speaks of a new enemy who might rise against your majesty.”
”Well,” said Napoleon, who was just cutting a large splinter from the chair, ”what new enemy is it?”
”Sire,” said Maret, shrugging his shoulders, ”it is Louis XVIII.”
Napoleon started, and looked at his minister with a flash of anger.
”What do you mean?” he asked, sternly. ”Who is Louis XVIII.? Where is the country over which he rules?”
”Sire, I merely intended to designate the brother of the unfortunate King Louis XVI.”
”My uncle!” said Napoleon, with a proud smile, driving his knife again into the back of the chair. ”Well, what then? Whereby has the Count de Lille surprised the world with the news of his existence?”
”Sire, by a proclamation addressed to the French, and in which he implores them to return to their legitimate lord and king, making them many promises, which, however, do not contain any thing but what the French possess already by the grace of your majesty.”
Napoleon shrugged his shoulders. ”Savary, then, has at length seen a copy of the English newspapers which published this proclamation,”
he said. ”I read it several weeks ago.”
”No, sire, it seems that the proclamation has not only appeared in the English newspapers, but is circulating throughout France. The Duke de Rovigo reports that secret agents of the Count de Lille are actively at work in France. They are scattering every day thousands of printed copies of the proclamation among the people. They are circulated at night in the streets, secretly pushed under the doors into the houses and rooms so that the police agents are unable to take them away. These copies, it appears, are printed on hand- presses, for their lines are often irregular and slanting, and indicate an unpractised hand, but those who receive them try to decipher them, and deliver them to the police only after having read them.” [Footnote: ”Memoires du Duc Kovigo,” vol. vi., p. 351.]
Napoleon said nothing; he was still whittling the back of his chair, and did not once look up to his minister, who stood before him in reverential silence. ”I thought I had crashed this serpent of legitimacy under my foot,” he murmured at last to himself, ”but it still lives, and tries again to rise against me. Ah, I despise it, and I have reason to do so. I alone am now the legitimate ruler of France; the fifty battles in which I have fought and conquered for France are my ancestors; the will of the French people has made me emperor, and the voice of all the sovereign princes of Europe has recognized my throne. The daughter of an emperor is my partner; and the King of Rome, the future emperor of the French, will be more of a legitimate ruler than any other prince, for the battles of his father and the ancestors of the Hapsburgs form his pedigree. Let the Count de Lille, then, flood France with copies of his proclamation, I shall in the mean time win battles for France, and with the bulletins of my victories drive his proclamations from the field. I- -”
At this moment the door opened, and Roustan's black face looked in.
”Sire, the Duke de Vicenza requests an audience,” he said.
”Caulaincourt!” exclaimed Napoleon, surprised, rising and throwing the penknife on the floor. ”Caulaincourt! Let him come in!”
CHAPTER x.x.xIII.
THE TRAITORS.
Roustan stepped back, and the imposing form of the Duke de Vicenza appeared on the threshold. The emperor hastily met him and looked at him with a keen, piercing glance. ”Caulaincourt,” he exclaimed, ”whence do you come, and what do you want here?”
”Sire,” said the duke, gravely and solemnly, ”I come from Prague, whither the order of your majesty had sent me, to attend the congress and to conduct the negotiations in the name of your majesty.”