For Sceptre and Crown Volume II Part 53

"Uncertain as the Pythia," he whispered.

Madame Moreau might have heard and understood these words or not. She said:

"The riddle which the line of life does not reveal, will perhaps be read by my cards."

She let go the emperor's hand, and taking from a drawer in her table some large cards, beautifully painted with strange figures and characters, she handed them to the emperor to shuffle.

He did so, still keeping his face in the shadow from the lamp, and gave her back the pack.

"Monsieur," she then said, "this is a combination that seldom occurs. I see you surrounded by the brightest splendour of the highest on earth, your hand links the fate of numbers. My G.o.d!" she cried, "for One only have I seen this constellation--it is so, it must be so, here is the eagle above your head; the star in the diagonal, the golden bees,--it would be unworthy to remain silent, it would lower my art."

She rose hastily and bowing deeply, with a movement possessing a certain grace and dignity, notwithstanding her short and corpulent figure, she said:

"My poor house has the happiness of beholding the monarch of France beneath its roof; sire, with the deepest respect I greet my great and beloved emperor!"

Napoleon started with surprise, then he moved out of the shadow and said laughingly:

"I must compliment you, madame, on the penetration of your cards. Since my great uncle visited your mistress, his nephew and successor may well visit the pupil. But now that we are without mask," he continued, "tell me more of the fate inscribed on your cards."

Madame Moreau returned to her chair, and seated herself at a sign from the emperor--who on his part came close to the table and sat down, looking at the out-spread cards attentively.

"Sire," said the lady, "your majesty will believe that I, who love France, and whose whole heart hangs upon your great race, have often tried in solitude to read by my art the fate of the empire; wonderful to say, this very constellation has each time appeared, the very same which now lies unchanged before me, in the cards your imperial hand has shuffled. I cannot be deceived. It would be absurd of me to tell of your majesty's past, from the cards now lying before me; one thing only I would say,"--she added with hesitation, "may I speak?" and she glanced at Pietri.

"I have no secrets from this gentleman," said Napoleon.

"Sire," proceeded Madame Moreau, still gazing on the cards, "your majesty is happy in a n.o.ble consort possessing every virtue--and yet--"

"And yet?" asked the emperor in a voice in which surprise mingled with slight impatience.

"Sire," said she slowly and solemnly, "the life of your majesty lies on the border land of the powers of light and darkness, a bright and glittering star beams down upon it, but the deep shadow of a demon-like fate often threatens to obscure its pure light. Beneath the brilliance of that star, beneath the influence of its blessed rays, the young heart of your majesty first opened to the warm breath of youthful poetry, and an absorbing love: the great emperor's blessing, the n.o.ble martyr of St. Helena, rested on this love; it would have lighted and warmed your majesty's heart; and this love was responded to by a heart in whose veins flowed the blood of your great predecessor."

The emperor looked down with emotion, a melancholy expression appeared on his face.

"Sire," continued Madame Moreau, "the dark shadow prevailed, the night of fate closed over that love and its hopes. The heart that beat for you has grieved during a sad and solitary life, and you have missed the guide, the good genius of your youth, who would have led you onwards beneath the rays of your star, and who would often have strengthened your doubting heart."

The emperor was silent. A sigh heaved his breast.

"Go on," he then said.

"Even now, sire," said Madame Moreau, "your heart is in doubt, to-day two opposing spirits wrestle in your soul, you balance between war and peace,--oh! wonderful," she proceeded, gazing attentively at the cards and pointing to some of the pictures, "the men of the sword urge peace."

The emperor listened with surprise.

"Sire," she said, "you have broken the pride of Russia, you have led England's queen to the grave of your uncle, you have revenged upon the house of Hapsburg the humiliations of the King of Rome. Sire, your star's bright beams have lighted you brilliantly on your course; beware of Germany," she said in a hoa.r.s.e tone, "there the demon-like shadow of your evil fate prevails. Beware! beware!" she cried vehemently, lifting up her hands as if to conjure him, "pause, before you throw the iron dice of war!"

The emperor gazed before him. A slight shudder pa.s.sed through his limbs.

"And you will pause," continued she, perusing the pictures on her cards, and drawing long lines over the out-spread pack, "for I see you surrounded by the smiling images of peace, and only in the back-ground the G.o.d of war zealously whets his sword for future days."

"And shall France thus humble herself?" said Napoleon in a low voice, as if expressing his thoughts aloud, "shall she yield, draw back!"

"I see no humiliation," said Madame Moreau, with sparkling eyes gazing at the cards; "I see dazzling splendour, brighter even than that which surrounded your uncle's throne, I see all the nations of the world a.s.sembled around the steps of your imperial throne, I see emperors and kings, all the princes of Europe,--almost of the earth,--surrounding you in a brilliant circle; the Sultan greets the imperial lord of France, the successor of Peter the Great, ah! what is this!" she cried.

"Sire, watch, watch over the duty sacred to a guest, murder lurks for Alexander on the soil of France, yet G.o.d averts the blow. I see new splendour, brilliant splendour and proud joy, all the people of Europe, Asia, and America, even the swarthy Nubians of Africa, uniting in astonished admiration at the glory of imperial France."

The emperor's eyes were fully opened, they flashed with pride.

"And then?" he asked.

"Sire," said Madame Moreau, "your conquering star has reached the zenith, then clouds arise, b.l.o.o.d.y lightning flashes through them, I see the points of lances sparkle, I see the war-G.o.d in tempestuous thunder stride over the earth, I see your majesty at the head of a moving army, I see you in Germany,"--she covered her eyes with her hands. "Ah! that is far away!" she said slowly; "my eyes are dazzled, I have not powers like the great Lenormand to see into the distant future, later on it will be clear, but to enduring peace fate has not destined you sire, see here!" And in prophetic tones she said: "If the olive tree overshadows France, her laurels must fade!"

The emperor looked at her thoughtfully.

"For the present, then, peace will bring me happiness and glory, but I must not let the olive trees overpower the laurels?"

She slightly nodded her head, still gazing at the cards. Her face quivered, she opened her lips as if to speak, but she was silent.

Napoleon stood up. Once more his eyes looked searchingly round the room.

"In this room, then, Madame Lenormand entertained the emperor?" he asked.

"In this very room, sire," said Madame Moreau, rising, "only the arrangement of the furniture has been slightly changed."

"I thank you, madame," said Napoleon, "follow my horoscope, I shall be glad to hear more from you!"

And with a friendly smile, he walked to the door, which Madame Moreau opened for him, the lamp in her hand.

On the stairs he took Pietri's arm and said:

"Stay, madame, I do not wish to be recognized. I rely on your discretion. Adieu!"

The quiet-looking carriage drove quickly back to the Tuileries.

When he re-entered his cabinet, the emperor seated himself at his writing-table. Pietri stood beside him:

Napoleon wrote:

"My dear Monsieur Drouyn de Lhuys,--

"I herewith send you an explanation of the reasons which, according to my unalterable decision, render a moderate policy necessary on the part of France, with regard to recent events in Germany. I do not doubt that you will entirely share my views, and I beg you to believe in my sincere friendship."

And he signed it, "Napoleon."

He handed the paper silently to Pietri.

"Sire," he said, after reading it, "who does your majesty destine to be the successor of Monsieur Drouyn de Lhuys?"

"Moustiers knows the state of affairs in Berlin well," said the emperor; "prepare a letter to him beforehand, to inquire if he will undertake the guidance of foreign affairs."

Pietri bowed.