"Possibly the Empress would rather save her paramour," interjected Colonel Tremeau sneeringly.
At this, Napoleon turned round suddenly to the last speaker, his face convulsed with rage, and from his eyes fire seemed to flash.
"What mean you, Sir?" he shouted. "Explain your vile innuendo instantly, or you, too, shall be arrested."
Thus challenged, Tremeau told of St. Just's midnight visit to St. Cloud and of what he had overheard there. St. Just listened to him in silence, and, listening, thought it was all over with him. He could not but admit to himself that Tremeau stated fairly what had taken place. He showed no animus, spoke calmly and dispassionately, and put no false color on the truth. Also it became plain that Tremeau had not heard all; he must have gone before the interview with Josephine was over. Poor though it was, this was some slight consolation.
When the officer had finished his account, at first the Emperor said nothing. He took the miniature of Josephine from the table and threw it on the ground; then stamped upon it, grinding it to fragments under his heel. Then, his features working unceasingly and his hands clenching and unclenching in his fury, he called out, "Guard!"
The file appeared with their sergeant at their head. He gathered up the despatches and crumpled them together; then passed them to the sergeant. "Burn these papers at once. Stay, I will see you do it."
He strode rapidly outside the tent to a camp fire a few yards off; then flung the papers into it. St. Just had stepped outside the tent and been a silent watcher of the scene. The Emperor strode up to him. "Go, Sir, to the Empress," he said sternly, "and tell her what you have seen. That is my answer to her letter and enclosures. As for you," and he looked St. Just contemptuously from head to foot, "I give Her Majesty credit for better taste, than to place on Colonel Tremeau's words the construction they might bear. You have mistaken condescension for a sentiment that implies equality. The lion's consort mates only with her kind, and could find no attraction in a cur."
At this moment an officer of high rank galloped up, his charger flecked with foam; he drew rein when he reached Napoleon.
"The Austrians are advancing, Sire,"—he brought the words out breathlessly—"and the men are impatient to attack." The change in the Emperor's face was almost magical; the rage that had contorted it had vanished like a flash, at the officer's first words, and now there was a glow of pleasure on it; the impassiveness was gone, and the light of anticipated victory was in his eye. He forgot the man who had so raised his ire, and even Josephine.
"This is welcome news," he answered joyously; "we will give them a lesson for their rashness. Return, Marshal, instantly, and let the advance be sounded. I will be with you before they get to work." Then he turned to Colonel Tremeau. "Leave me now, Sir, I will see you after the battle. At present I would be alone."