For some time he
had not heard from his consort; he wrote to her every day, but for
six days past no answers came. He did not, however, distrust her; he
knew that Maria Louisa loved him. His heart longed for her and his
child. He had sent Berthier to Orleans the day before with a letter
for Maria Louisa. He was to tell him what his consort was thinking
and wishing. If she was courageous enough to claim her rights, and
desired to do so, Berthier was to convey her to the emperor, and, at
Fontainebleau, Maria Louisa was to declare to her father that she
insisted on her sacred right of staying with her husband. Napoleon
expected this, and he was nervous and anxious, waiting for the
return of his general, and in hope that Maria Louisa would accompany
him.
He contemplated the paper, and, while reading the words of despair,
he thought of the past--of the days when Europe had been at his
feet, and when he himself showed no mercy. The door of the cabinet
was softly opened, and the Duke de Bassano entered. "Maret," he
exclaimed, "you come to inform me that Berthier has returned, do you
not?"
"Yes, sire."
"And he--he is alone?"
"Yes, sire, he is alone."
Napoleon sighed. "Admit Berthier," he said, "but stay here."
Maret stepped to the door and opened it. The Prince of Neufchatel
entered, mournful and silent. A single glance told Napoleon that his
mission had failed.
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