Herr von Beust wore a grey overcoat, of some light summer material, thrown back from over his black coat, upon which sparkled the white star of the Legion of Honour. His slightly grey hair was carefully curled and arranged; his wide black trousers almost concealed the small foot in its well-fitting boot. His fine intellectual countenance, with its almost transparent complexion, eloquent mouth, and lively bright eyes, was paler than usual, and the amiable, winning smile was entirely gone. A melancholy expression was seen on his lips, and his whole face showed nervous anxiety.
He approached the emperor with the grace of a distinguished courtier, and bowed in silence.
Napoleon went to meet him with his fascinating smile, and held out his hand to him.
"However sorrowful may be the occasion," he said in a gentle voice, "I rejoice to see the most reliable and talented statesman in Germany."
"The most unhappy, sire," said von Beust sadly.
"They only are unhappy who have lost hope," replied the emperor, seating himself, and pointing out a chair to Herr von Beust, with a movement full of graceful courtesy.
"Sire, I have come to hear from your majesty's lips if I may still hope, and bid my sovereign do the same?"
The emperor's fingers glided over the points of his moustache.
"Tell me," he then said, "your views on events in Germany. I am anxious to have them pictured by your mouth, the mouth of a master of narrative and description," he added, with a gracious smile and a slight inclination of the head.
Beust's pale face grew animated.