For some time they thus rode side by side, when the king stopped his
horse. "There must be a change!" he exclaimed, in a tone of grief
and despair. "We are moving eastward, but we must advance westward."
"We must all move eastward," said the emperor, in a deep, fervent
tone; "from the east came our salvation; eastward, therefore, every
good Christian turns his face whenever he prays for assistance and
redemption."
The king, perhaps, did not hear these words, for he made no reply,
but looked moody and thoughtful. Both did not notice that the sky
had brightened, and that the sun in its splendor was shedding its
setting beams. It was a beautiful evening. The earth, refreshed by
the rain, exhaled sweet odors; the air was fresh and balmy, and the
blooming fields waved as a gentle sea. The sovereigns were too much
concerned with themselves to be attracted by the beauties of outward
nature. Their eyes were turned inward.
"Oh," resumed the king, after a pause, "what will be the end of all
this? Were not they right who cautioned me against this war, and
pointed to Napoleon's luck in order to prevent me from entering upon
it? Have not my troops done all that can be demanded of human
strength? Have they not braved with heroic resolution all fatigues
and privations, and behaved in battle with unsurpassed valor? Have
not the Russians also manifested the noblest devotion, and the most
intrepid constancy? And still our armies have been defeated in two
pitched battles--and still we are retreating? What have we to hope
for? What new resources have we? May we still hope for the accession
of Austria to our alliance?"
He uttered these questions in an undertone and thoughtfully, as if
to himself, and forgetful of the presence of another who could hear
him.
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