"If I perish, sire, he will have lost nothing, for I am neither his mother, his daughter, nor sister, but only his mistress—that is, a woman to whom society gives no rights, and who must consider herself fortunate if the world looks upon her with no harsher feeling than indifference. But if I am able to join him, I shall be every thing to him—mother, sister, family, and friends. We shall be two to suffer instead of one, and that fearful exile will lose half its terrors. You see, sire, I must rejoin him, and that as soon as possible."
"You are right," said the Emperor, looking fixedly at her, "and I no longer oppose your departure."
He rang; an aide-de-camp appeared.
"Is Corporal Ivan in attendance?"
"He waits your Majesty's orders."
"Let him come in."
The aide-de-camp bowed, and disappeared. Two minutes afterwards the door reopened, and Corporal Ivan stepped into the room, then halted, upright and motionless, one hand on the seam of his overalls, the other to the front of his schako.
"Draw near," said the Emperor, in a stern voice.
The corporal made four paces to the front, and relapsed into his former position.
"Nearer!"