“Sire, M. de Bausset has taken her to the small reception-room of your majesty; she is waiting there.”
“Well,” said Napoleon, “she has waited long enough, and might become impatient; I will, therefore, go to her.”
“But, sire, you will not see her alone, I hope?” asked Duroc, anxiously. “I trust your majesty will permit me to accompany you?”
“Ah, you are anxious to see the famous belle?” asked Napoleon, laughing. “Another time, M. grand-marshal—but this time I shall go alone. Just remember that the princess is passionately enamoured of me, and that it, therefore, would terribly offend her if I should not come alone to the interview with her.”
He advanced a few steps toward the door. But now Constant rushed toward him, and kneeling before him, exclaimed, in a voice trembling with anguish: “Sire, your majesty must have pity on me. Do not expose your priceless life to such a danger! Do not plunge my poor heart which adores your majesty into everlasting despair! It was I who first dared to request your majesty to receive this lady! Now, sire, I implore your majesty on my knees—do not receive her!”
“Sire, I venture to unite my prayers with those of Constant,” said Duroc, urgently. “Sire, do not receive this lady!”
“Your majesty, permit me rather to arrest her immediately,” exclaimed M. de Vincennes.
Napoleon’s flaming eyes glanced in succession smilingly at the three men. “Truly,” he said, “on hearing you, one might almost believe this beautiful woman to be a mine, and that it was merely necessary to touch her in order to explode and be shattered! Reassure yourselves, I believe we will save our life this time. You have warned me, and I shall be on my guard. Not another word, no more prayers! My resolution is fixed; I will see this beautiful woman, and, moreover, alone!”
“Sire,” exclaimed Constant, anxiously, “suppose this crazy woman should fire a pistol at your head at the moment when your majesty appears before her?”
“In that case the bullets would harmlessly glance off from me, or the pistol would miss fire,” replied Napoleon, in a tone of firm conviction. “Fate did not place me here to fall by the hands of an assassin! Go, gentlemen, and accept my thanks for your zeal and sympathy. M. de Vincennes, return to Vienna; I shall keep your papers here. Is Count Haugwitz still at your rooms, Duroc?”