"Sire," said she slowly and solemnly, "the life of your majesty lies on the border land of the powers of light and darkness, a bright and glittering star beams down upon it, but the deep shadow of a demon-like fate often threatens to obscure its pure light. Beneath the brilliance of that star, beneath the influence of its blessed rays, the young heart of your majesty first opened to the warm breath of youthful poetry, and an absorbing love: the great emperor's blessing, the noble martyr of St. Helena, rested on this love; it would have lighted and warmed your majesty's heart; and this love was responded to by a heart in whose veins flowed the blood of your great predecessor."
The emperor looked down with emotion, a melancholy expression appeared on his face.
"Sire," continued Madame Moreau, "the dark shadow prevailed, the night of fate closed over that love and its hopes. The heart that beat for you has grieved during a sad and solitary life, and you have missed the guide, the good genius of your youth, who would have led you onwards beneath the rays of your star, and who would often have strengthened your doubting heart."
The emperor was silent. A sigh heaved his breast.
"Go on," he then said.
"Even now, sire," said Madame Moreau, "your heart is in doubt, to-day two opposing spirits wrestle in your soul, you balance between war and peace,--oh! wonderful," she proceeded, gazing attentively at the cards and pointing to some of the pictures, "the men of the sword urge peace."
The emperor listened with surprise.
"Sire," she said, "you have broken the pride of Russia, you have led England's queen to the grave of your uncle, you have revenged upon the house of Hapsburg the humiliations of the King of Rome. Sire, your star's bright beams have lighted you brilliantly on your course; beware of Germany," she said in a hoarse tone, "there the demon-like shadow of your evil fate prevails. Beware! beware!" she cried vehemently, lifting up her hands as if to conjure him, "pause, before you throw the iron dice of war!"
The emperor gazed before him. A slight shudder passed through his limbs.
"And you will pause," continued she, perusing the pictures on her cards, and drawing long lines over the out-spread pack, "for I see you surrounded by the smiling images of peace, and only in the back-ground the god of war zealously whets his sword for future days."