"My armies only withdraw from Mexico at my command, and they bring rich laurels with them," he said.
"Laurels?" cried the empress with flashing eyes, "yes, the soldiers who have bravely fought bring laurels with them, and laurels grow on the graves of the fallen, but the banners of France, who now desert the throne raised by France's emperor, the prince who went thither at the call of France, and who is rewarded by humiliation and desertion,--these banners should be veiled in crape, for they have forsaken France's honour! Oh! sire," she exclaimed, restraining herself with a great effort, "I beg you once more--I conjure you--recall your hard decision!"
The emperor's brow wore a gloomy frown, an icy smile was on his lips.
"Madame," he said, "your majesty will allow that I am the best, the only competent judge of what the honour of France demands."
The eyes of the empress flashed, a look of proud contempt appeared on her face.
"Your majesty is the judge," she said, "then let me be the advocate of the honour of France, my blood gives me this right, the blood of Henri Quatre flows in my veins, and my grandfather was the French king!"
The emperor's long eyelashes were raised, and his angry eyes gazed on the excited woman who sat trembling before him.
He stood up.
The empress also rose.
She pressed both hands upon her heart, her whole form swayed to and fro with the violent effort she made to recover her calmness.