“Sire, the environs of Moscow offer no position in which we could hazard a battle with our inferior forces. The marshal[30] thought he did well in preserving your army, whose loss without saving Moscow would have been of the greatest consequence; and which, by the reinforcements your Majesty has just procured, and which I met everywhere along my road, will soon resume the offensive, and make the French repent of invading Russia.” “Has the enemy actually entered the city?” “Yes, sire. At this moment Moscow is in ashes. I left it in flames.” Here Michaud stopped abruptly, for the agony depicted on the Emperor’s face, “the expression of his eyes,” completely unmanned him,--he could say no more. It was Alexander who, after a few bitter moments, and maintaining his self-control with a strong effort, resumed the conversation. “I see that God requires from us great sacrifices. I am ready to submit to his will. But, Michaud, tell me frankly, what of the army? What do my soldiers say upon seeing my ancient capital abandoned without a struggle? Must not this have exercised a most disastrous influence upon the spirit of the troops?” “Sire, may I speak to you quite frankly, and as a loyal soldier?” “Colonel, I have always required this frankness; now I entreat of you to use it. Hide nothing from me: I desire absolutely to know the truth.” “Sire, I left all the army, from the generals to the meanest soldier, possessed with one overpowering and terrible fear--” “How? Whence these fears? Are my Russians overcome by the first misfortune?” the Czar interrupted with emotion which even he could not restrain, and which, as Michaud says, “altered for a moment the noble calm of his fine features.” “Never, sire!” resumed the colonel. “Their one fear is that your Majesty, out of kindness of heart, may be persuaded to make peace. They are burning to fight for you, and to prove their devotion by the sacrifice of their lives.”