"Yes, sire," replied Champagny, "and the prince told me he had invariably rejected them with horror."
"Nevertheless, an attempt has been made. A young man, scarcely twenty years old, with the face of a sick girl, came hither to-day to stab me with a kitchen-knife, as he would a goose or a calf."
"Merciful Heaven, that is terrible!" exclaimed Champagny, turning pale. "The life of your majesty was really endangered, then?"
"If the knife which an assassin aims at your breast endangers your life, mine was endangered," said the emperor, with a gloomy smile. "It seems my marshals were somewhat distrustful, and did not believe so confidently in the love and admiration of the spectators as I did, and that saved my life."
"It is, perhaps, only a false suspicion, sire; the knife, it may be, was not intended for your majesty."
"Oh, it was! I personally examined the young man. He confesses his purpose; he boasts of it, and says if I pardoned him he would attempt the same thing."
"Horrible!" exclaimed Champagny.
"Yes, horrible!" repeated the emperor, musingly, "the more so as he assures me with the utmost tranquillity that every German shares his hatred of me; that the whole land is but a hotbed of conspiracy, and that thousands of hands are already armed to pierce my heart. And this young man is in perfect health, bodily and mentally, according to Corvisart, who twice examined him; his pulse is regular, and not in the least feverish. Ah, these Germans have gall in their veins instead of blood! They are fanatics, and of such we ought to beware." He dropped his head on his breast. After some time he turned toward the minister, who was sitting opposite him in respectful silence. "Champagny," he said, hastily, "we must make peace. I am bent on putting an end to the war, and on leaving the country. Return to Vienna, and send immediately for the Austrian plenipotentiaries. You have already agreed as to the chief points; it is the war contribution alone that still prevents both sides from coming to a definite understanding. You ask for fifty millions more than the Austrians offer to pay; well, compromise with them; induce the ambassadors to assent to the payment of seventy-five millions, and make peace. I am satisfied with the stipulations of the last draft of the treaty; add to it whatever you may deem prudent. I rely altogether on you; but, at all events, make peace! Hasten to Vienna. Good-by."
The Duke de Cadore left the emperor's cabinet. Napoleon was still moodily sitting in his easy-chair, when he murmured: "Ah, these Germans! They cannot be trusted! They are dangerous fanatics, capable of perpetrating the foulest and most cowardly crime, and of sanctifying it on the altar of duty."