Uncle Bernac: A Memory of the EmpireDoyle, Arthur Conan
History
Uncle Bernac: A Memory of the Empire
Doyle, Arthur Conan
France -- History -- Consulate and First Empire, 1799-1815 -- Fiction
My frightened companion scratched at the door, which was opened
instantly by Roustem the Mameluke, who guarded it within. The room into
which we passed was of considerable size, but was furnished with extreme
simplicity. It was papered of a silver-grey colour, with a sky-blue
ceiling, in the centre of which was the Imperial eagle in gold, holding
a thunderbolt. In spite of the warm weather, a large fire was burning
at one side, and the air was heavy with heat and the aromatic smell of
aloes. In the middle of the room was a large oval table covered with
green cloth and littered with a number of letters and papers. A raised
writing-desk was at one side of the table, and behind it in a green
morocco chair with curved arms there sat the Emperor. A number of
officials were standing round the walls, but he took no notice of them.
In his hand he had a small penknife, with which he whittled the wooden
knob at the end of his chair. He glanced up as we entered, and shook
his head coldly at de Meneval.
'I have had to wait for you, Monsieur de Meneval,' said he. 'I cannot
remember that I ever waited for my late secretary de Bourrienne.
That is enough! No excuses! Take this report which I have written in
your absence, and make a copy of it.'
Poor de Meneval took the paper with a shaking hand, and carried it to
the little side table which was reserved for his use. Napoleon rose
and paced slowly up and down the room with his hands behind his back,
and his big round head stooping a little forwards. It was certainly as
well that he had a secretary, for I observed that in writing this single
document he had spattered the whole place with ink, and it was obvious
that he had twice used his white kerseymere knee-breeches as a
pen-wiper. As for me, I stood quietly beside Roustem at the door, and
he took not the slightest notice of my presence.
'Well,' he cried presently, 'is it ready, de Meneval? We have something
more to do.'
The secretary half turned in his chair, and his face was more agitated
than ever.
'If it please you, Sire--' he stammered.
'Well, well, what is the matter now?'
'If it please you, Sire, I find some little difficulty in reading what
you have written.'
'Tut, tut, sir. You see what the report is about.'
'Yes, Sire, it is about forage for the cavalry horses.'
Napoleon smiled, and the action made his face look quite boyish.
'You remind me of Cambaceres, de Meneval. When I wrote him an account
of the battle of Marengo, he thought that my letter was a rough plan of
the engagement. It is incredible how much difficulty you appear to have
in reading what I write. This document has nothing to do with cavalry
horses, but it contains the instructions to Admiral Villeneuve as to the
concentration of his fleet so as to obtain command of the Channel.
Give it to me and I will read it to you.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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