Not until the last wagon had defiled before him did the Emperor leave the ground. It was then nearly dark, and already the lamps were lighted along the quays, and the windows of the Palace displayed the brilliant lustre of the preparations for a grand dinner to the marshals.
As we moved slowly along in close order, I found myself among a group of officers of the Emperor's staffs eagerly discussing the day and its events.
“I am sorry for Duchesne,” said one; “with all his impertinences—and he had enough of them—he was a brave fellow, and a glorious leader at a moment of difficulty.”
“Well, well, the Emperor has perhaps forgiven him by this time; and it is not likely he would mar the happiness of a day like this by disgracing an officer of the élite.”
“You are wrong, my friend; his Majesty is not sorry for the occasion which can prove that he knows as well how to punish as to reward. Duchesne's fate is sealed. You are not old enough to remember, as I can, the morning at Lonado, where the same ardre du jour conferred a mark of honor on one brother, and condemned another to be shot.”
“And was this, indeed, the case?”
“Ay, was it. Many can tell you of it, as well as myself. They were both in the same regiment—the fifteenth demi-brigade of light infantry. They held a château at Salo against the enemy for eight hours, when at length the elder, who commanded at the front, capitulated and laid down his arms; the younger refused to comply, and continued to fight. They were reinforced an hour afterwards, and the Austrians beaten off. The day after they were both tried, and the result was as I have told you; the utmost favor the younger could obtain was, not to witness the execution of his brother.”
As I heard this story, my very blood curdled in my veins, and I looked with a kind of dread on him who now rode a few paces in front of me,—the stern and pitiless Napoleon.
At last we entered the court of the Tuileries, when the Emperor, dismissing his staff, entered the Palace, and we separated, to follow our own plans for the evening. For a moment or two I remained uncertain which way to turn. I wished much to see Duchesne, yet scarcely hoped to meet with him by returning to the Luxembourg. It was not the time to be away from him, at a moment like this, and I resolved to seek him out.
For above an hour I went from café to café, where he was in the habit of resorting, but to no purpose. He had not been seen in any of them during the day; so that at length I turned homeward with the faint hope that I should see him there on my arrival.