"And you found?"
"The ground around the château filled with wagons."
"A train?"
"Of arms, clothing, ammunition, everything the army lacks."
"What was it doing there?"
"There had been a battle. Horses and men were slain; Frenchmen, Cossacks, Russians. I pillaged one wagon," continued the grenadier.
He drew forth from the pocket of the coat a bottle and a handful of hard bread, together with what remained of the roast pig.
"Will you share your meal with a brother soldier?" asked the Emperor, who was ordinarily the most fastidious of mortals, but who could on occasion assume the manner of the rudest private soldier.
"Gladly," said the proud and delighted grenadier, handing the bottle, the bread and the meat to Napoleon, who took them and drank and ate rapidly as he continued to question amid the approving murmurs of the soldiers, who were so delighted to see their Emperor eat like a common man that they quite forgot their own hunger.
"What were the wagons doing there unguarded?"