“There have been tokens enough,” she returned shortly. “I ask Your Majesty’s leave. Good-night.”
She gained her room, and worked till late on a cipher dispatch to Napoleon. Its purport was, that now, if ever, Maximilian must be discouraged absolutely. Following on what she herself had done, such would bring his abdication. She implored, above all things, that Bazaine be kept from meddling, from extending false hopes. Poor girl, after what it had cost, she was passionately bent on success. A courier took her packet to the City the next day, whence the message was to be sped to Paris.
“That foolish Prince Max,” she thought, “if he does give it up and go, I am really saving him from terrible sorrow. But, who will save me from mine, I wonder? Mine, that is come already! God in Heaven cannot.”
Maximilian had watched her as she left him, till her stately girlish figure was lost in the dusk under the trees. Then with a sigh he turned away. At the villa he found his wife. She was seated apart from her maids, and Éloin was talking to her, 267in tones low and swift. Charlotte only half listened. Her agitation was nearly hysterical. Her eyes gleamed wildly, and sometimes they would close, as though they ached for the soothing that tears might bring.
“Who,” demanded Maximilian, “has had the presumption to introduce a spy on these grounds?”
Éloin glanced quickly at the Empress. “A spy, sire?” he said uneasily.
“I mean that American, sir. But shall I ask the sentinels at the gate?”
“That, Ferdinand,” Charlotte interposed icily, “is not necessary. Monsieur Éloin, at my command, brought the American here. You should know why.”
“To save my play-empire, I suppose?”
“An empire,” she cried, catching up the word the more hotly because she knew it to be Jacqueline’s own gage of battle, “an empire, August Sire, to be gained by fighting, as your forefathers, as mine, won theirs. And that is nobler, I suppose, than puny inheritance. I do not know what the Hapsburg may be fallen to, but a daughter of Orleans still has the right to expect a crown from her husband. If not, she is unworthily mated.”