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
'I cannot conceive, Sire, why such trifles should be reported to you, or
why you should for one instant remember them.'
'You are certainly a very modest young man, and I hope you will not lose
that charming quality when you have been for a little time at my Court.
So you think that your own private affairs are of no importance to me?'
'I do not know why they should be, Sire.'
'What is the name of your great-uncle?'
'He is the Cardinal de Laval de Montmorency.'
'Precisely. And where is he?'
'He is in Germany.'
'Quite so--in Germany, and not at Notre Dame, where I should have placed
him. Who is your first cousin?'
'The Duke de Rohan.'
'And where is he?'
'In London.'
'Yes, in London, and not at the Tuileries, where he might have had what
he liked for the asking. I wonder if I were to fall whether I should
have followers as faithful as those of the Bourbons. Would the men that
I have made go into exile and refuse all offers until I should return?
Come here, Berthier!' he took his favourite by the ear with the
caressing gesture which was peculiar to him. 'Could I count upon you,
you rascal--eh?'
'I do not understand you, Sire.' Our conversation had been carried on
in a voice which had made it inaudible to the other people in the room,
but now they were all listening to what Berthier had to say.
'If I were driven out, would you go into exile also?'
'No, Sire.'
'Diable! At least you are frank.'
'I could not go into exile, Sire.'
'And why?'
'Because I should be dead, Sire.'
Napoleon began to laugh.
'And there are some who say that our Berthier is dull-witted,' said he.
'Well, I think I am pretty sure of you, Berthier, for although I am fond
of you for reasons of my own I do not think that you would be of much
value to anyone else. Now I could not say that of you, Monsieur
Talleyrand. You would change very quickly to a new master as you have
changed from an old one. You have a genius, you know, for adapting
yourself.'
There was nothing which the Emperor loved more than to suddenly produce
little scenes of this sort which made everybody very uncomfortable, for
no one could tell what awkward or compromising question he was going to
put to them next. At present, however, they all forgot their own fears
of what might come in their interest at the reply which the famous
diplomatist might make to a suggestion which everybody knew to be so
true. He stood, leaning upon his black ebony stick, with his bulky
shoulders stooping forward, and an amused smile upon his face, as if the
most innocent of compliments had been addressed to him. One of his few
titles to respect is that he always met Napoleon upon equal terms, and
never condescended to fawn upon him or to flatter him.
'You think I should desert you, Sire, if your enemies offered me more
than you have given me?'
'I am perfectly sure that you would.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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