He turned toward Mr. Erman, counsellor of the supreme consistorial court, and dean of the French congregation, and cast a piercing glance on the venerable, white-haired clergyman.
"You, above all, sir, should not forget those words," said Napoleon, in a loud voice. "For you are a Frenchman, and it is your duty, therefore, wherever you may be, to educate faithful and devoted subjects to your country. You might have done a great deal of good in this city by your commanding talents and eloquence. You ought to have opened the eyes of the population as to their true interests and the misery that necessarily would be entailed on them by a war against France. You failed to do so; you were silent while the fanatical war-faction was clamoring; and while the reckless pranks of the officers of the guard were intimidating good and sagacious patriots. I know very well that you are not to be blamed for those excesses, but you ought to have tried to prevent them. I know the faction whose fanaticism against France has done so much mischief. I know that the queen was at the head of it. As Marie Antoinette once gained over to her side the lifeguards at that celebrated banquet, Louisa did the same with the officers of the Prussian guard. She is, therefore, responsible for the savage war-cries and the crazy arrogance of the officers. This woman, who has become as fatal to her people as was Helen to the Trojans—this woman is the only cause of the disasters of Prussia!"
His voice rolled like thunder through the hall; his eyes flashed fire, and all the beholders, seized with dismay, turned pale and cast down their eyes. Only old Counsellor Erman's face betrayed no fear or anxiety. He looked at the emperor with a grave and almost angry air, and his voice interrupted the ominous stillness which had followed Napoleon's words.
"Sire," he said, loud enough to be heard by every one, "your majesty says that the queen is the only cause of the disasters of Prussia—that she brought about the war, and excited and instigated the evil passions of the reckless! Sire, that is not true! The queen is as generous as she is virtuous!"
The assembly felt as if thrilled by an electric shock—all fixed their eyes timidly and anxiously on Napoleon—every one held his breath to hear his reply, and felt already in advance the most profound compassion for the unhappy old man who would be crushed with the victor's wrath. But the emperor was silent. Only for a moment his eyes flashed—and his glances seemed to pierce through the old man. Napoleon said nothing. He seemed not to have heard Erman's words, but turned with perfect composure toward the Catholic clergy, to converse with them about the interests of their Church. He appeared, however, wearied; passed in a more hurried manner to the rest who were introduced to him, and evidently hastened to finish the audience. He then greeted the assembly with a nod and left the hall, followed by the grand marshal and his two chamberlains.
For an instant all remained immovable: Every one felt as if a brilliant meteor had flitted past him, and as if his vision were too much dazzled to be able to see any thing else. Then, however, all turned their eyes once more to Erman, who stood at his place, calm and smiling, and looked almost compassionately at those who had hitherto called themselves his friends, but were not courageous enough now to approach him, and avoided meeting his glances. He then quietly turned, and, followed by the other clergymen, walked toward the door. But those who had stood before him had also commenced leaving the hall, and in consequence the passage was crowded. Erman suddenly saw himself in the midst of the throng, that slowly moved onward, but it was apparently no mere accident that the crowd was densest around him. Some hastily seized his hand; others whispered to him: "Flee! conceal yourself!" Others again gazed at him with eyes full of tenderness and emotion, and murmured: "We thank you in the name of all the faithful!" But constantly the low words of "Flee! conceal yourself!" were repeated. But the venerable man looked with a calm, proud smile at those who surrounded him, and said in a loud and firm voice, "I will not flee! I will not conceal myself!"
Just at the moment when Erman, followed by his timid friends and secret admirers, was about to cross the threshold, a loud voice was heard to exclaim, "Counsellor Erman!"
"Here I am," he replied, turning around, as well as all the rest.
A low murmur of horror pervaded the assembly; their faces turned pale, and their brows were clouded. The moment so much feared had apparently come—Erman could not escape, or conceal himself; for he who had called out his name was none other than Duroc, the emperor's grand marshal, who had evidently been sent by his master. Those who hitherto had been so anxious to leave the hall, and thronged so eagerly round the courageous old man, now stood still, and the grand marshal walked through the opened ranks directly toward him. Every one seemed to hold his breath to listen, and even to stop the pulsations of his heart, to hear the order for Erman's arrest.
The grand marshal now stood before Erman, who had seen him coming, and advanced a step to meet him. Duroc bowed, and said in a loud voice, "His majesty the emperor has ordered me to invite Counsellor Erman, of the supreme consistorial court, to dine with him to-morrow at noon. His majesty desires me to tell you that he is anxious to make the acquaintance of a man who is so faithful and courageous a servant of the royal family, and endowed with sufficient magnanimity and boldness to defend the absent and accused. His majesty has instructed me to assure you that, far from disapproving your conduct, he highly esteems and admires it, for the emperor knows how to appreciate every thing that is high-minded and noble."
CHAPTER XI.
NAPOLEON AND TALLEYRAND.
Napoleon was rapidly pacing his cabinet. His face was pale and gloomy; his lips firmly compressed, as they always were when he was angry, and his eyes flashed with rage. He held two papers in his hand: one of them was in writing, the other contained printed matter; and, whenever his eyes glanced at them, he clinched his small hand, adorned with diamonds, and crumpled the papers.
The emperor's anger, which filled with trembling and dismay every one who had to approach him in such moments, had no effect, however, on the man who stood in the middle of the room supporting one of his hands on the table covered with maps and papers, and with the other playing with the lace frill protruding from his velvet waistcoat. His small, twinkling eyes followed calmly and coldly every motion Napoleon made. Whenever his anger seemed to increase, a scarcely perceptible, contemptuous smile played on the lips of this man, and a flash of hatred, and, withal, of scorn burst from his eyes. But this never lasted longer than a moment; his pale and sickly face immediately resumed its impenetrable aspect, and the smile of a polite courtier reappeared on his lips. This was Talleyrand, first minister of the emperor—Talleyrand, who had originally served the Church as a priest, then the republic as a minister—who had deserted and betrayed both to become minister of the empire, and to combat and deny all the principles he had formerly advocated and declared to be necessary for the welfare of France.
"Talleyrand," exclaimed Napoleon, in an angry voice, standing still in front of the minister, "I will set a rigorous example. I will trample upon this haughty Prussian aristocracy that still dares to brave me—I will let it feel the consequences of continued opposition to me! What audacity it was for this Prince von Hatzfeld, while I was approaching with my army, and already master of Prussia, to continue sending information to his fleeing king and to the ministers, and to play the spy! Ah, I am going to prove to him that his rank will not protect him from being punished according to his deserts, and that I have traitors and spies tried and sentenced by a court-martial, whether they be of the common people or the high-born. Both of us have seen times when the heads of the nobility were knocked off like poppies from the stalks; and we will remind this aristocracy, which relies so confidently on its ancient privileges, of the fact that such times may come for Prussia too, unless those high-born gentlemen desist from their arrogant conduct, and submit to me humbly and obediently. Cause the Prince von Hatzfeld to be arrested immediately: order a court-martial to meet within twenty-four