He was about to withdraw, but the emperor detained him. "Tell me, first, Duroc, whether they were very angry with me? Did old Lannes grumble? Did Talleyrand comment in his usual manner?"
"Oh, sire!" exclaimed Duroc, reproachfully, "all three of us were filled only with grief; we were considering what might be the cause of your majesty's melancholy."
"Well, and what did you guess? and what Lannes?"
"He believed your majesty was striving to crown the battle of Eylau with a brilliant victory, and that you were planning a new battle."
"He is right," exclaimed Napoleon, energetically. "We are not yet at the end of our struggle, and the brave men who were buried under the snow of Eylau must be avenged. I shall soon bid the sun of Austerlitz and Jena shine on the plains of Prussia, and dazzle the eyes of the Emperor of Russia. I will bring him to his knees and make him cry '_Pater peccavi_!' I will show him what it is to menace me; and when I unfurl my banner on the Kremlin of Moscow, Alexander shall bear the train of my purple cloak. The world belongs to me! Woe unto him who stands in my way--I will crush him as the elephant crushes the worm! Lannes is right; I am planning a new battle. But it is not this that makes me sad. What did Talleyrand say--Talleyrand, Prince de Benevento, with the keen nose and the impenetrable smile?"
"Talleyrand said it was not the planning of future battles, but that you were mourning for the little son of the King of Holland."
"Ah, indeed, Talleyrand is not altogether mistaken," exclaimed Napoleon, heaving a sigh; "my heart is mourning for young Napoleon. He was my darling, and I had accustomed myself to regard him as my heir. He was blood of my blood, and there was something shining in his eyes that seemed to me to be a beam of my own mind. I loved the boy. And now--what did Talleyrand say besides, Duroc?" asked Napoleon, interrupting himself. "You are silent. Be frank; I want to know it all!"
"Sire," said Duroc, timidly, "the Prince de Benevento lamented the fate of the empress, for he believes the death of little Prince Napoleon Louis to be a mournful--nay, a fatal event for her, inasmuch as your majesty would now be under the necessity of having a successor to the noble and adored Empress Josephine, and an heir-apparent to your empire."