Even Napoleon expressed his admiration and delight, and received the warm congratulations of his now enthusiastic generals. It was rumoured that an officer had arrived from the town to discuss terms of surrender: Napoleon halted, but grew uneasy when the expected messenger could not be found and there were no signs of an approaching delegate or of that deputation of gorgeously robed boyards he had fondly hoped would attend his coming to surrender the keys of the Kremlin and sue for his clemency towards the citizens. An hour before he had commanded Count Duronelle to hurry on to Moscow and arrange for the ostentatious performance of the customary ceremony. He was now told that the town had been abandoned by the officials, that the citizens had forsaken it, but Moscow, empty it is true, was at his feet. Murat had found a few stragglers, amongst them a French type-setter, and these wretched fugitives were ordered before the staff, and by their spokesman begged for protection. "Imbecile" was the only word Napoleon trusted himself to answer. His chagrin, his wounded self-love, his mortification at the unexpected turn of affairs unnerved him. One of the Russian prisoners describes the effect of the news thus:-- "Napoleon was thoroughly overcome and completely lost his self-control. His calm and regular step was changed into a quick, uneven tread. He kept looking around him, fidgetted, stood still, trembled all over, looked fierce, tweaked his own nose, pulled a glove off and put it on again, tore another glove out of his pocket, rolled it up into a ball, and, as if in deep thought, put it into his other pocket, again took it out, and again put it back, pulled the other glove from his hand, then quickly drew it on again, and kept repeating this process. This went on for an hour, during which the generals standing behind him remained like statues, not even daring to move."