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Page 7
He sank down into the armchair which stood before his writing-desk, took a
pen-knife and began to mark and cut the arm of the chair with as much zeal
and perseverance as if the object in view was to accomplish some useful and
urgent task. Then, when the floor was covered with tiny chips, and the
black, delicately carved wood of the old-fashioned armchair was marked
with white streaks and spots, the emperor hurled the knife down and rose
hastily from his seat.
"This Colonel Oudet must die," he said, each word falling slowly and
impressively from his lips. "I cannot crush all the limbs, but I will make
the head fall, and that will paralyze them. Yes, this Colonel Oudet must
die!"
Then, as if the sentence of death which he had just uttered had relieved
his soul of an oppressive burden, and lightened his heart, the gloomy
expression vanished from his face, which was now almost brightened by a ray
of joy.
Seizing the silver hand-bell, he rang it violently twice. Instantly the
door leading into his sleeping-room opened and Roustan, gliding in, stood
humbly and silently awaiting the emperor's orders.
Napoleon, with a slight nod, beckoned to him to approach, and when
Roustan, like a tiger-cat, noiselessly reached his side with two swift
bounds, the emperor gazed with a long, searching look into the crafty,
smiling face of his Mameluke.
"So you listened to the conversation between the generals?" asked the
emperor.
"I don't know, sire," said Roustan, shaking his head eagerly. "I probably
did not understand everything, for they spoke in low tones, and sometimes I
lost the connection. But I heard them talking about my illustrious emperor
and master, so, as your majesty meanwhile had awaked, I thought it
advisable to inform you that the generals were having a conversation in the
drawing-room, because your majesty might perhaps desire to take part in
it."
"You did right, Roustan," said the emperor, with the pleasant smile that
won every heart; "yes, you did right, and I will reward you for it. You can
go to Bourrienne and have him pay you a hundred gold pieces."
"Oh, sire," cried Roustan, "then I shall be very happy, for I shall have a
hundred portraits of my worshiped emperor."
"Which you will doubtless scatter to the four winds quickly enough, you
spendthrift," exclaimed Napoleon. "But listen, you rogue: besides my
hundred gold portraits, I'll give you a bit of advice which is worth more
than the gold coins. Forget everything that you have heard to-day, beware
of treasuring in your memory even a single word of the generals, or
recollecting that you have called my attention to it."
"Sire," replied Roustan, with an expression of astonishment, "Sire, I
really do not know what your majesty is talking about, and what I could
have said or heard. I only know that my gracious emperor and master has
given me a hundred gold napoleons, and present happiness has so overpowered
me, so bewildered my senses that I have lost my memory."
The emperor laughed, and as a special proof of his favor pinched the
Mameluke's ear so hard that the latter with difficulty concealed his
suffering under a smile of delight.
CHAPTER II.
LEONORE DE SIMONIE.
Napoleon's word was fulfilled! Scarcely two months had passed when he
avenged the battle of Aspern on Austria, and twined fresh laurels of
victory around his brow. On the 6th of July a conflict occurred which
completed Austria's misfortunes and wrested from her all the advantages
which the victory of Aspern had scarcely won.
The fight of Wagram gave Austria completely into the hands of the victor,
made Napoleon again master of the German empire, compelled the Emperor
Francis and his whole family to seek refuge in Hungary, and yielded Vienna
and its environs to the conqueror's will. The French imperial army, amid
the clash of military music, again entered Vienna, whose inhabitants were
forced to bow their heads to necessity in gloomy silence, and submit to
receiving and entertaining their victorious foes as guests in their homes.
The Emperor Napoleon selected Sch�nbrunn for his residence, and seemed
inclined to rest comfortably there after the fresh victory won at Wagram.
It had indeed been a victory, but it had cost great and bloody sacrifices.
Thrice a hundred thousand men had confronted each other on this memorable
6th of July, 1809; eight hundred cannon had shaken the earth all day
incessantly with their terrible thunder, and the course of their balls was
marked on both sides with heaps of corpses. Both armies had fought with
tremendous fury and animosity, for the Austrians wished to add fresh
laurels to the fame just won at Aspern, the French to regain what the days
of Esslingen at least rendered doubtful: the infallibility of success, the
conviction that victory would ever be associated with their banners.
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