"Let us go, too," said the princess, quickly approaching the door. "Give me your arm, M. Grand marshal; I am trembling so, I might sink down before appearing in the presence of the emperor!"
"Come, princess," said Duroc, compassionately, "lean firmly on me. Heaven will give you strength, for you have a noble and fearless heart. Come! I will conduct you to the foot of the staircase, which the emperor will have to ascend in order to reach his rooms. You may accost him there. God and love will impart strength to your words!"
With rapid steps they crossed the suite of rooms and stepped into the so-called Swiss hall, where the orderlies and soldiers of the guard on duty that day were assembled. The bearded warriors looked surprised at the grand marshal—whose face was graver than they had ever seen it in battle—and at this lady, hanging on his arm, as beautiful and pale as a lily. Duroc, who generally had a smile and a pleasant word for the soldiers of the guard, the faithful companions of so many battles, took no notice of them. He hastened with the princess through the hall into the corridor, and down the broad winding stairs opening immediately into the second court-yard of the palace. He then conducted her across through the inside portal to the splendidly-carpeted principal staircase in the rear of the vestibule.
"Await the emperor here," said Duroc, drawing a deep breath. "He will go up this staircase, and he cannot, therefore, avoid meeting you. But he has a sharp eye, and if he should see you from afar, he might, divining your intention, turn around and go the other way. Ascend as far as the first landing. The emperor cannot see you there before he mounts the first steps, and then he will not turn hack."
The princess hastily ascended the steps, which she had so often done with a joyous heart, and in a brilliant toilet, when repairing to the festivals of the royal court. Duroc followed her, and told the sentinel posted at the staircase and presenting arms to the grand marshal, that the lady had received orders to wait there for the emperor, who—
Just then the drums rolled, and the guard in the court-yard was called out.
"The emperor!" whispered the princess, sinking down on her knees, clasping her hands and praying silently.
"The emperor!" said Duroc, hastening down-stairs into the second court-yard.
Napoleon rode in at that moment, and Duroc, glancing uneasily at him, saw that his mien was even gloomier than previous to his ride; he saw that flashes of anger darted from his eyes, ready to wither the first being that should come near them. On riding up the Linden to-day, he had again missed the wonted music of "Vive l'Empereur!" and noticed that the people, standing here and there in groups in the street, when he passed them, had frowned instead of greeting him with the usual cheers. This want of respect, this visible defiance had darkened his countenance and embittered his soul. Just as he alighted from his horse, and threw the bridle to Koustan, the Mameluke, the grand marshal, pale, panting, and in visible emotion, stepped up to him. Napoleon noticed it, and his angry glance intimidated Duroc.
"You want to inform me that Berlin is seditious?" he asked, in a stern, hard voice. "I am not astonished at it. This city seems to be inclined to such movements. But I am about to set it a terrible example; I will show Berlin in what manner I punish rebels, and will cure its seditious tendency." Striking his boots with his riding-whip, as was his habit when out of humor, he crossed the court-yard in the direction of the staircase.