Lord Castlereagh, erect and leaning against a mantelpiece, seems to listen with a glacial air to the King of ----. The crowd has retired to a respectful distance. His majesty, on the other hand, appears to speak with a certain warmth, although his attitude is that of a petitioner, or rather a pleader, intent upon convincing his judge. One can catch the words, ‘Poland--indemnity--Treaty of Kalitsch.’ His lordship vouchsafes only few words in reply to his august interlocutor. Looking at them, one is reminded that if the Coalition has had the victory, it was England who paid the soldiers. Lord Stewart wanders listlessly from one room to another. He is simply anxious to be seen, and they have bestowed on him the sobriquet of ‘the golden peacock.’ At midnight a magnificent supper was served. Of course, the sovereigns occupied the table set apart for them, but the other guests seated themselves wherever they liked, without the slightest ceremony or considerations of etiquette. The gaiety of that collation, absolutely free from restraint, afforded greater facilities for confidential and familiar talk. All those banquets were alike. Always the same display of apparently inexhaustible wealth and the same magnificence; consequently, although the Congress was but a few days old, people had ceased to estimate the expenses of the Court. To make up for that, they freely spoke of the number of strangers who, either on business or pleasure, were located in Vienna. We know the means by which Colbert filled the empty coffers of his master. But what, after all, were the _carrousels_ of Louis XIV. compared to this magnificent series of fêtes? The hour for retiring struck at last, and people went home to recruit their strength for the next day by much-needed sleep. CHAPTER VIII Prince Eugène de Beauharnais--Recollections of the Prince de Ligne--The Theatre of the ‘Ermitage’ and of Trianon --The Baron Ompteda--some Portraits--The Imperial _Carrousel_--The Four-and-twenty Paladins--Reminiscences of Mediæval Tournaments--The Prowess of the Champion--Fête and Supper at the Imperial Palace--The Table of the Sovereigns. One morning, a few days after the last-described event, I called upon Prince Eugène de Beauharnais. Our acquaintance dated from my youth, and whenever circumstances brought us together either in Paris, Milan, or Vienna, I, like all his other friends, had ever found him kind, helpful and sympathetic. The bonds of sympathy so quickly contracted in youth had never been severed by the difference in rank. It had not been his fault that his rule in Italy had been fruitless to me as far as a brilliant administrative career went. And these proofs of his affection had made me deeply grateful to him.