“Ah! here you are at last, M. Raguideau!” said Napoleon, with a quizzical smile upon his imposing countenance; “I am very happy to see you!”
“Sire,” began the trembling old man, not knowing whether that august smile betokened promotion or decapitation.
“My good sir,” continued the emperor, not giving him time to reply, “do you remember a day in 1796, when I accompanied to your house Madame de Beauharnais, now empress of the French?”—emphasizing the word “empress” with all the depth of his magnetic voice. “Do you remember the eulogy which you uttered on the military profession, and the personal panegyric of which I was the object? Well, what say you now? Were you a true prophet? You declared that my fortune would always consist of my sword and my great-coat; that I should never make a name nor position, like Dumouriez or Pichegru; and that Madame de Beauharnais was insane to sacrifice herself to a ‘mere general.’ I have made my way, nevertheless, as you perceive, and in despite of your sagacious predictions. Think you that the ‘army-contractor’ would have bestowed a brighter boon upon his wife, after eight years of marriage, than a crown, and that crown the imperial diadem of France?”
As he ceased speaking, Napoleon lovingly raised the hand of Josephine to his lips, while she looked with amazement upon this bewildering scene. The poor old lawyer, overwhelmed with consternation, stood trembling in dumb despair; his eyes were cast upon the floor, and his limbs shook as with an ague fit; while the emperor gazed upon him with an amused smile, highly enjoying his discomfiture. At last the frightened man stammered:—
“Sire, I could not foresee. Sire, did you really overhear?”
“Every word, M. Raguideau. You are aware that walls have ears, and I owe you a severe reprisal; for, if my excellent Josephine had listened to your advice, it would have cost her a throne, and me the best of wives. You are a great culprit, M. Raguideau!”
At those terrible words “reprisal” and “culprit,” the poor old man turned pale as a corpse; his tottering limbs almost refused to support his agitated form.
“How could I tell? how could I imagine?” he gasped out; “I thought only of her, of her fatherless children. I had loved them for years. I was anxious to see them once more restored to prosperity and happiness.”
“I believe you,” said the emperor, touched by the emotion of the gray-haired old man, who had been a friend to his wife in her days of need; “you could not tell; you could not foresee;” and for a moment Napoleon paused, and then continued in more solemn tones, “the future is beyond the grasp of any living man.” Then, resuming his bantering way: “So, now, we will return to the present; and, as I cannot altogether overlook the injury which you sought to inflict upon me, I condemn you to go this day to Nôtre Dame, and to witness the ceremony of my coronation. Not in a corner, not behind a pillar, which will prevent my having ocular evidence of your obedience, but in the seat that I shall cause to be retained for you. Do you hear, sir? I must see you both in the cathedral and in the line of the procession.”
Transported with the overwhelming relief and the ecstatic joy of such an honor, the poor old lawyer was hardly able to express his gratitude, and could scarcely maintain his dignity as he bowed himself from the royal presence, and hastened to prepare for the coming august ceremony.