“‘Oh, then, madame,’ replied he, ‘be not alarmed, I will say nothing, for I love you; promise me, however, if I am obedient, to come soon and visit me.’
“Ah! I assured him, that I desired this more than he did himself, and I have never spoken more truly.
“Meanwhile, I am conscious that those interviews, which fill me with extreme joy, cannot often be repeated, and I must not abuse your goodness toward me by claiming your presence too often. The sacrifice which I make to your mental quietude is another proof of my intense desire to render you happy. This thought will comfort me while waiting to be able to embrace my adopted son. Do you not find this exchange of children very sweet? As regards myself, sire, what distresses me is, that I can only give to your son this name, without being able to be useful to him! And, again, how different is my position from that which you held toward Eugene! The longer, the kinder you are to him, the less can I show you my gratitude! However, I rely upon the vice-king that he will be a comfort to you, amid the sorrows which your family causes you. If, unfortunately, what you surmise about the King of Naples were to happen, then Eugene would become still more useful to you than ever, and I dare trust he would prove worthy of you by his conduct in war as well as by his sincere devotedness to your service.
“You have now received quite a long letter from me! The sentiment of delight in talking about our two sons has carried me away, and this sentiment will make me excusable for having so long intruded upon you. As sorrow needs concentration, so joy needs expansion. This, sire, explains this letter, long as a volume, and which I cannot close with-out once more expressing my deepest gratitude.
“JOSEPHINE.” [Footnote: Ducrest, “Memoires,” vol. iii., p. 294.]
CHAPTER XLIV. DEATH.
Happy the man to whom it is granted to close a beautiful and worthy life with a beautiful and worthy death! Happy Josephine, for whom it was not reserved like the rest of the Bonapartes to wander about Europe seeking for a refuge where they might hide themselves from the persecutions and hatred of the princes and people! To her alone, of all the Napoleonic race, was reserved the enviable fate to die under the ruins of the imperial throne, whose fragments fell so heavily upon her heart as to break it.
For France the days of fear had come, for Napoleon the days of vengeance. The nations of Europe had at last risen with the strength of the lion that breaks his chains and is determined to obtain liberty by devouring those who deprived him of it, and so those irritated nations had with the power of their wrath forced their princes, who had been so obediently submissive to Napoleon, to declare war and to fight against him for life or death.