Henriette was acquainted with the daughter of the door-portress at the Sub-Prefecture. Rose was the girl's name; she was a pretty, delicate-looking, little blonde, and worked at Delaherche's factory. When Henriette stepped into the lodge the mother was not there, but Rose greeted her with her accustomed amiability. 'Oh, my dear lady, we can no longer keep on our legs,' said she; 'mother has had to go and lie down a little. Just fancy, what with all the comings and goings, we have had to remain on foot all night!'
And without waiting for any questions she rattled on and on, feverishly excited by the many extraordinary things that she had seen since the day before. 'The marshal has slept well,' she said. 'But that poor Emperor! No, you can't imagine how dreadfully he suffers! Last night I went up to help give out some linen, and just as I was passing through a room next to the dressing-room I heard some moaning--oh! such dreadful moaning, as though somebody was dying. It made me tremble all over; and it froze my heart when I learned it was the Emperor. It appears he has a dreadful illness which makes him cry out like that. He restrains himself when anybody's there, but as soon as he's alone it masters him, and he calls out and complains--it's enough to make your hair stand on end.'
'Do you know where they are fighting this morning?' interrupted Henriette.
Rose dismissed the question, however, with an impatient wave of the hand. 'So you understand,' said she, 'I wanted to know how he was, and I went up four or five times during the night and listened, with my ear to the partition--and each time that I went I heard him moaning and complaining, and he didn't cease, he didn't close his eyes for a moment all night long, I'm sure of it. How terrible, isn't it, to suffer like that with all the worry he has? For everything's in confusion, a regular scramble. They all seem to have lost their senses! The doors do nothing but bang, fresh people are always coming. Some of them fly in a rage, and others cry. The house is quite topsy-turvy; everything's being pillaged. I assure you I saw some officers drinking out of the bottles last night, and some of them even went to bed in their big boots. And after all it's the Emperor who's the best of the lot, and who takes up the least room in the little corner where he hides himself to moan.'