France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Fiction; Napoleon I, Emperor of the French, 1769-1821 -- Fiction
“Oh!” cried Madame de Montrevel, frightened; “if that is so, I would
rather wait.”
“No, no! On the contrary, the sight of you will calm him. I don’t know
just what is the matter; but it seems a diligence was stopped on the
outskirts of the Black Forest in broad daylight. Fouché will find his
credit in danger if the thing goes on.”
Madame de Montrevel was about to answer when the door opened and an
usher appeared.
“The First Consul awaits Madame de Montrevel,” he said.
“Go,” said Josephine; “Bonaparte’s time is so precious that he is almost
as impatient as Louis XV., who had nothing to do. He does not like to
wait.”
Madame de Montrevel rose hastily and turned to take Edouard with her.
“No,” said Josephine; “leave this beautiful boy with me. You will stay
and dine with us, and Bonaparte can see him then. Besides, if my husband
takes a fancy to see him, he can send for him. For the time, I am his
second mamma. Come, what shall we do to amuse ourselves?”
“The First Consul must have a fine lot of weapons, madame,” replied the
boy.
“Yes, very fine ones. Well, I will show you the First Consul’s arms.”
Josephine, leading the child, went out of one door, and Madame de
Montrevel followed the usher through the other.
On the way the countess met a fair man, with a pale face and haggard
eye, who looked at her with an uneasiness that seemed habitual to him.
She drew hastily aside to let him pass. The usher noticed her movement.
“That is the minister of police,” he said in a low voice. Madame de
Montrevel watched him as he disappeared, with a certain curiosity.
Fouché was already at that time fatally celebrated. Just then the door
of Bonaparte’s study opened and his head was seen through the aperture.
He caught sight of Madame de Montrevel.
“Come in, madame,” he said; “come in.”
Madame de Montrevel hastened her steps and entered the study.
“Come in,” said Bonaparte, closing the door himself. “I have kept you
waiting much against my will; but I had to give Fouché a scolding. You
know I am very well satisfied with Roland, and that I intend to make a
general of him at the first opportunity. When did you arrive?”
“This very moment, general.”
“Where from? Roland told me, but I have forgotten.”
“From Bourg.”
“What road?”
“Through Champagne.”
“Champagne! Then when did you reach Châtillon?”
“Yesterday morning at nine o’clock.”
“In that case, you must have heard of the stoppage of the diligence.”
“General--”
“Yes, a diligence was stopped at ten in the morning, between Châtillon
and Bar-sur-Seine.”
“General, it was ours.”
“Yours?”
“Yes.”
“You were in the diligence that was stopped?”
“I was.”
“Ah! now I shall get the exact details! Excuse me, but you understand my
desire for correct information, don’t you? In a civilized country which
has General Bonaparte for its chief magistrate, diligences can’t be
stopped in broad daylight on the highroads with impunity, or--”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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