"Sire, he replied, that if he could repent of the deed, he would not have attempted it; that if he accepted pardon, all Germany would curse him, while he now descends into the grave, accompanied by the blessings and tears of his country; in fine, that his death will arouse the Germans, and urge them to renewed efforts for liberty."
The emperor made no reply. His whole frame shuddered, and if Corvisart had felt his pulse then, he would not have said that it was quite regular. The large drops of perspiration on the emperor's brow might have alarmed the physician.
"I am sure he is insane," said Napoleon, after a pause. "I want him to be looked upon as a lunatic. I hope that the whole affair will remain a secret, and that the world will hear nothing of it; but if it should be talked about, we must insist that the man was insane."
Duroc bowed in silence.
"When is Staps to be shot?" asked the emperor, after a pause.
"Sire, this morning, at seven o'clock."
Napoleon glanced at the clock. "It is half-past six," he said; "I will set out. Well, the Viennese will not hear the report of the muskets, for the cannon that is to announce to them the conclusion of peace will render inaudible the volley at the execution. Come, Duroc! I am tired of this fantastic Germany! Let us return to France!"
Quickly crossing the room and approaching the door, he stood on the threshold and glanced again at the clock. "It is a quarter to seven," he said; "in fifteen minutes there will be one lunatic less in Germany!" A few minutes afterward a carriage rolled down the avenue of the palace of Schönbrunn. The emperor had departed.
At the same time the room opened in which Staps had been confined for three days, under the close surveillance of two gendarmes. An officer entered; eight soldiers, shouldering their muskets, drew up in front of the door. Frederick Staps met the officer with a serene smile. He still wore the short black velvet coat, fastened around his slender waist by a broad leather belt, his neck surrounded by a white collar, on which his long hair fell in dense masses. During the three days of his captivity he had not undressed, taken no food, and even abstained from sleep. His time was occupied in preparing for death, and in writing letters to his beloved Anna and his old father. These letters, folded and carefully directed, he placed in the belt which the fatal knife had adorned three days before.
"Sir," said Staps, offering his hand to the officer, "I suppose you come for me?"