CHAPTER V.
To conclude the solemnities of the day, a public banquet was offered to the Emperor and Empress by the city of Alexandria, in the Town Hall, which was splendidly decorated for the occasion; after which, their majesties, wearied by their exertions, retired to pass the evening in one of the private apartments allotted to their use. The Emperor and Empress were now together, attended only by the secretary of the former; and, while dictating his despatches, Napoleon continued to pace the room, rubbing his hands with an air of satisfaction. Josephine, meanwhile, stood beguiling the time allotted by her lord to the duties of empire, by admiring, in one of the lofty mirrors of the saloon, the elegant coquetry of her own dress, and the splendour of the jewels in which she was arrayed.
After the departure of the secretary, the Emperor took his seat; and, while resting his elbow on a table covered with crimson velvet, richly fringed with gold, he fell into a train of reflection, announced by the expression of his countenance, of a highly agreeable nature. But the silence in which he was absorbed was far from satisfactory to Josephine. She felt that he had deported himself harshly towards her that morning, in the affair of the Fenestrella memorial. But she was beginning to perceive that she had been precipitate in pressing her request at an inauspicious moment; and promised herself to repair the injury she might have done her protégé, by referring, at a more convenient season, his petition to the Emperor. The happy moment, she fancied, was now arrived!
Seating herself at the table, exactly opposite to Napoleon, and resting, like himself, her chin upon her hand, she met his inquiring looks with a smile, and demanded the subject of his cogitations.
“Of what am I thinking?” replied the Emperor, in a cheerful tone—“that the imperial diadem is a very becoming ornament; and that I should have been much to blame if I had not added such a trinket to your majesty’s casket.”
The smiles of Josephine subsided as he spoke, while those of the Emperor brightened. He was fond of repressing those nervous tremors and evil auguries on the part of the Empress, naturally excited by the extraordinary change of condition which had elevated a simple subject to the imperial throne.
“Are you not better pleased to salute me Emperor than general?” he persisted, without noticing her serious looks.
“I am—for the higher title endows you with the prerogative of mercy,” she replied; “and I have an appeal to make to your clemency.”