On the same day the Emperor, then in residence at Fontainebleau, was smoking cigarettes in the library of the palace. He was leaning motionless, with the air of a melancholy sea-bird, against the case in which is kept the Monaldeschi coat of mail. Viollet-le-Duc and Mérimée, both his intimate friends, stood by his side.
He asked:
“Why, Monsieur Mérimée, do you like the works of Brantôme?”
“Sire,” replied Mérimée, “in them I recognise the French nation, with her good and bad qualities. She is never worse than when she is without a leader to show her a noble aim.”
“Really,” said the Emperor, “does one find that in Brantôme?”
“One also finds in him,” answered Mérimée, “the influence of women in the affairs of state.”
At that moment Madame Ramel entered the gallery. Napoleon had given orders that she should be allowed to come to him whenever she presented herself. At the sight of his foster-sister he showed as much delight as his expressionless, sorrowful face was capable of displaying.
“My dear Madame Ramel,” asked he, “how is your nephew getting on at Nantes? Is he satisfied?”
“But, sire,” said Madame Ramel, “he was not sent there. Another was nominated in his place.”
“That’s strange,” murmured His Majesty thoughtfully.