DUKE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2018 with funding from 
 Duke University Libraries 
 
 https://archive.org/details/governorswifemad01 mall 
 
THE GOVERNOR’S WIFE 
 
Madame Junot 
 
The 
 
 Governor’s Wife 
 
 PICTURES FROM THE IMPERIAL 
 COURT OF FRANCE ::: 1806-1807 
 
 By 
 
 MATHILDA MALLING 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 
 HENRIETTE LANGAA ST.JOHN 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THOMAS M. ST. JOHN 
 
 1904 
 
WS,5‘4 ft 
 
 Copyright, 1904, by 
 THOMAS M. ST. JOHN 
 
 Registered at Stationers' Hall, London, England 
 [Printed in the United States of America] 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 THE GOVERNOR’S WIFE 
 
Car mon coeur abondait en souvenirs fideles. 
 
 Dans notre ciel sinistre et sur nos tristes jours 
 Ton noble esprit planait avec de nobles ailes, 
 Comme un aigle souvent, comme un ange toujours. 
 
 Victor Hugo 
 
 (a, Mme. Junot). 
 
 77184 
 
I 
 
 \ 
 
 1 
 
 ■J.jA"- 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 I 
 
 Junot remplit aujourd’hui la premiere 
 place aupr^s de moi aprSs Berthier— 
 savez-vous le, Madame la Gouvemeuse ? 
 NAPOLfioN ^ Mme. Junot (1806). 
 
 ADAME Junot was small, slender, and 
 lithe, and she always carried her head 
 high. She wore her dark, chestnut- 
 brown hair gathered in ringlets high upon her 
 head; and over them she wore a golden band, 
 set with three pearls. Her rich, dark complex¬ 
 ion reminded one of an Oriental’s; her eyes met 
 yours with a sure, undaunted glance, in which 
 there was the gleam of a true soul. 
 
 As she moved with slow Uvssurance down the 
 broad stairs of the castle—the beautiful Rainey, 
 of which she was the mistress—it was evident 
 that Madame Junot was enceinte. 
 
 The November day was clear and cool. The 
 afternoon sun gilded the copper roof of the cas- 
 
 77184 
 
 1 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 tie, and threw a magnificent red glow over the 
 fall-yellow poplars whose slender trunks striped 
 the driveway with their shadows. 
 
 A cavalcade of gentlemen, in various military 
 costumes, came galloping into the courtyard, 
 and drew rein to pay its respects to the chief oc¬ 
 cupant of the carriage that followed at a rapid 
 pace. Then, as if by magic, the riders filled the 
 place, making it echo with their gay laughter 
 and with the rattle of their spurs. 
 
 With hat in hand, and with the red glow of 
 the sun upon his heavy, blond hair, the Gov¬ 
 ernor of Paris stepped to the carriage and wel¬ 
 comed, to his Eaincy, Princess Caroline Murat, 
 the Grand Duchess of Berg and Cleve, the sister 
 of the great E'apoleon. In turn, she smiled con¬ 
 descendingly on Junot, and, lightly pressing 
 his hand, she received the greetings of his wife, 
 who treated her distinguished guest with all the 
 formality dictated by court etiquette and with 
 the graciousness of a lady. 
 
 The Princess had come to hunt at Eaincy—had 
 come, in fact, to show herself to General and 
 Madame Junot, who had been acquaintances of 
 earlier days, and under different conditions. 
 She could not, however, lay aside the forced. 
 
 2 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 sarcastic tone which had become habitual with 
 her since she received the title of Princess, as 
 she addressed her hostess: 
 
 ‘‘Madame la ‘ Gouverneuse' de Paris (as my 
 brother, the Emperor, calls you), are you not to 
 ride with us to-day ? You, with your figure, 
 would make an excellent Amazon.” 
 
 Madame Junot smiled conventionally as she 
 followed the Princess up the stairs, and took 
 no notice of the rough edge of her remark, 
 answering : 
 
 “Your Imperial Highness will remember, per¬ 
 haps, that my husband—possibly with too much 
 care for me—has denied me the pleasure of shar¬ 
 ing in the hunt.” 
 
 “What a tender husband you are, Junot!” 
 said the Princess. “Here is your wife insisting 
 that you have forbidden her to ride. Well, 
 let Prince Joachim try that with me ! ” 
 
 The Governor of Paris laughed heartily, for 
 he was in excellent humor to-day, and it amused 
 him to hear Caroline Murat call her husband 
 ‘ ‘ Prince Joachim. ’ ’ Never before had his proud 
 castle seemed so beautiful, as it stood there bathed 
 in the strong sunlight and its courtyard thronged 
 with brilliant figures. He had a vague feeling 
 
 3 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 that it looked like that when the Duke of Orleans 
 hunted there, thirty years before. 
 
 “It isn’t every one,” he said, “who has your 
 Highness’ talent in controlling horses as well as 
 men. For my part, I consider hunting too dan¬ 
 gerous a sport for ladies in general.” 
 
 With a challenging motion of her head toward 
 Junot, and with a peculiar glance from under 
 her long eyelashes. Princess Caroline said: 
 
 “Has it never occurred to you that there are 
 women as well as men who are attracted by the 
 danger ? ’ ’ 
 
 As though Madame Junot had not heard the 
 conversation between the Princess and her hus¬ 
 band, she turned to her Imperial Highness and 
 asked if it was her wish to bathe before dinner. 
 The Princess assented, and, leaning upon her for¬ 
 mer playmate’s arm, she disappeared with her 
 down the broad corridor of the castle, accom¬ 
 panied by the ladies in attendance. 
 
 Junot stroked his chin and smiled, and he 
 stood for a few moments watching the retreating 
 figures. 
 
 The white silk curtains were drawn aside from 
 the two massive bathtubs that formed the center 
 4 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 of the beautiful bathroom in the state apartment 
 at Rainey. Nymph and Naiad looked down from 
 the frescoed walls upon a fair scene when the 
 Princess stepped daintily from her dressing-room, 
 where she had been disrobed, and moved across 
 the marble floor in the soft light of the hanging- 
 lamp and in the yellow glow from the Are that 
 was burning brightly on the hearth. Fairer than 
 Venus she looked as she paused in order to drop 
 her rose-colored shawl at the edge of the water, 
 and then she dipped quickly in the bath. To 
 one of the maids she said : 
 
 ‘‘Ask Madame Junot to come to me.” 
 
 “Ah, Laurette . . .”—she hesitated over 
 her blunder, for she had long since ceased to 
 address Madame Junot so familiarly—“I think 
 you told me that one of your maids is very clever 
 at hair-dressing. Will you be kind enough to 
 lend her to me ? ” 
 
 “Tour Highness has but to command; I shall 
 send for Marguerite at once.” 
 
 While Madame Junot was speaking, the 
 bather rose, the better to survey the gorgeous 
 dinner toilet in which she had entered; for the 
 Governor’s wife was arrayed in a gown of white 
 moir6 and Flemish lace, and the diamonds 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 about her head and shoulders gave a radiance to 
 her complexion that could not be surpassed. 
 With a smiling glance the Princess whispered : 
 
 “ Listen, Laurette; do you know that a grand 
 toilette becomes you the best while ...” 
 
 At that instant her foot slipped, and she 
 would have fallen had not Madame Junot, 
 clutching her shoulder with a firm grip, sup¬ 
 ported her. But for several days afterward 
 upon Princess Caroline’s white, round shoulder 
 there were to be seen the deep, red marks that 
 had been made by five pointed little finger-nails. 
 
 Junot leaned back in his chair, gazing con¬ 
 tentedly at the scene about him. The substan¬ 
 tial hunting-dinner was nearing its end, and 
 about him in profusion were to be seen the ar¬ 
 tistic vases and the bowls and the beautiful 
 silver, all adorned with golden lilies—the arms 
 of the House of Orleans; they had formed the 
 table service at Eaincy for many years. Every¬ 
 where were the brilliant flowers of autumn, and 
 from the parent vine there fell in abundance to 
 the table large bunches of golden-green, of red, 
 and of purple, grapes. Host and guests offered 
 toast after toast to a successful hunt, drinkipg 
 
 6 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 freely from Bohemian glasses that were treasured 
 souvenirs from Austerlitz, 
 
 When Juuot leaned back, he let his arm rest 
 lightly on the back of the chair to his right, in 
 which sat Princess Caroline, Grand Duchess of 
 Berg and Cleve. Over the wound on her left 
 shoulder lay a lace shawl that, like an airy ban¬ 
 dolier, veiled her breast and softly shaded her 
 rose-red robe. From among pink and white 
 roses her many jewels peeped out, and in her 
 blond hair there glistened the golden tips of a 
 diadem. Like a Venus girdle the flowers lay 
 around her slender waist and perfumed her 
 bosom with their fragrance. Her little hands— 
 unusually beautiful, as were all the Bonapartes’ 
 —played thoughtfully with some dark-blue 
 grapes, and raised them one by one to her ruby 
 lips. 
 
 Junot watched the scene, his arm still hang¬ 
 ing loosely over the back of the Princess’ chair. 
 From her beautiful face, flushed with wine, his 
 glance wandered down the long row of merry 
 guests and rested with a sense of relief upon his 
 wife at the other end of the table. She was lift¬ 
 ing her glass—filled, as usual, with water—to her 
 escort, M. Moutbreton, bending forward grace- 
 
 7 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 fully as she did so. He could almost hear the 
 finely turned repartee with which she answered 
 that brilliant gallant, and he read a world of 
 meaning in her clear eyes and roguish smile as 
 she sat there in white and diamonds—his 
 proud and beautiful wife. 
 
 “Ohapelle! Chapelle!” cried Junot, spring¬ 
 ing to his feet and beckoning to his valet, who 
 was entering the room, though covered with 
 dust, and with his spurs wet with blood, “is 
 it a message from Germany?” And when he 
 took the precious missive in his own eager hands, 
 he motioned almost impatiently to the messenger 
 to withdraw. 
 
 “You have ridden with this all the way from 
 Paris, good Chapelle! See to it that you get 
 wine and something to eat.” 
 
 As he spoke, Junot tore open the seal and 
 spread the despatch before him, and a breath¬ 
 less silence fell upon the gay and noisy company, 
 each one leaning forward, eager to catch the first 
 news from the battle-field. 
 
 Junot’s eyes ran quickly over the paper; then 
 he raised them, filled with tears, and spoke with 
 great solemnity: 
 
 “The Grand Army has entered Berlin !” 
 
 8 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 He stopped, looked around, and, inspired by 
 the questions he read in all their anxious looks, 
 he exclaimed, lifting his glass: 
 
 ‘‘Let us always remember that on the 25th of 
 October, in the year of our Lord 1806, our Em¬ 
 peror planted his eagle in the city of Frederick 
 the Great! ” 
 
 With one impulse they rose, and, with up¬ 
 lifted glasses, they pledged their faith in the cry: 
 
 “Long live the Emperor! Long live the vic¬ 
 tory over Prussia ! ’ ’ 
 
 The Governor of Paris re-read the despatch, 
 and then more leisurely he studied the contents 
 of the letter that accompanied it. Gradually a 
 proud smile stole over his fine features as he 
 read his friend Duroc’s brief description of the 
 episodes of the war from the battle at Jena, on 
 the 14th of October, to the entering of Berlin; 
 there were only twelve days between, but each 
 day was marked by a new victory. 
 
 Murmuring almost inaudibly, he re-read the 
 letter until he came to the last part; then he 
 raised his voice: “ The Emperor is pleased. . . . 
 Berthier longs for Paris. ...” He crushed 
 the paper in his hand, and, with an expression 
 of bitter grief, lifted his other hand to his fore- 
 
 9 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 head—“And I—I am not there!—I, alone, am 
 not allowed to be with them ! ’ ’ 
 
 His face flushed with excitement, and his eyes 
 filled again with tears. He turned to his wife, 
 who had reached his side almost as soon as 
 Chapelle, and in uncontrollable sorrow he re¬ 
 peated, in a toneless whisper, “I, alone, am not 
 allowed to be with him! ” 
 
 Madame Juuot glanced quickly at her guests, 
 and, pressing her husband’s hand, she said to 
 Princess Caroline: 
 
 “Madame, are you not proud to see how be¬ 
 loved your brother is? Never has Junot made 
 the Emperor a greater sacrifice than when he 
 agreed to remain here and govern his Paris for 
 him.” 
 
 The Princess, resting her hand steadily upon 
 Madame Junot’s arm, answered: 
 
 “You can rest assured that so great a devo¬ 
 tion to our family shall have a proud reward 
 . . .; ” and for a moment the two women 
 looked each other straight in the eyes, while a 
 stereotyped, mask-like smile hid the thoughts 
 of one and the crafty designs of the other. 
 
 After the dinner the company gathered in the 
 salon, a very large room—almost a gallery— 
 
 10 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 divided into three parts by two rows of slender 
 marble columns, among which were placed 
 statues holding candelabra. The part at the 
 left was a billiard-room, that at the right a 
 music-room, and the division between was the 
 real reception-salon. Through an imposing row 
 of windows was to be had a beautiful view over 
 the park, with its extensive lawns bordered by 
 the brook, the Pavilion Eendez-vous, and two 
 long rows of trees. 
 
 Madame Junot sang, with Nicolo Isouard, the 
 opera-singer, a duette from Fioravanti’s “Ca¬ 
 mille.” If it was intended to amuse the Prin¬ 
 cess, the effort was lost; for she sat in a window- 
 seat chatting with Junot, who, in a sentimental 
 posture, leaned against one of the pillars in front 
 of her. 
 
 Princess Caroline was not very musical; she 
 liked to talk about music, and she sang a little, 
 because it was the fashion. To-night, she did 
 not try to conceal the fact that she would rather 
 talk than sing, or listen to singing. She ap¬ 
 plauded loudly, nevertheless, when the duette 
 was finished. 
 
 “ My wife has a splendid voice, has she not ? ” 
 said Junot, enthusiastically. 
 
 11 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘‘A magnificent voice—truly Italian!” an¬ 
 swered the Princess, with fervor, rising with the 
 others to congratulate Madame Junot. 
 
 The company now sui’rounded the host and 
 begged him to sing, for they knew that his voice 
 was iTnusually sonorous, flexible, and full of feel¬ 
 ing; and to-night they did not ask in vain. 
 
 ‘‘Only one song; . . . to-night I can sing 
 but one song.” Emotional as he was, his eyes 
 filled with tears as he began: 
 
 Allans enfants de la patrie, 
 
 Le jour de glaive est arrive. ...” 
 
 The spirit of the song was contageous. The 
 ladies nodded their heads and softly hummed 
 the patriotic words, while to the men—no mat¬ 
 ter of what political party—there arose pictures 
 of war and victory. 
 
 12 
 
II 
 
 n est impossible de rien imaglner de plus 
 joli, de plus vif, de plus aimable, de plus 
 saillant que ne I’fitait cette jeune dame, 
 vetue avec une elegance, une fralcheur 
 qui cadraient si parfaitement avec tout 
 ce aue la nature avait mis de coquetterie, 
 de luxe la former. Elle dtait char- 
 mante . . . 
 
 M6m. du General Bon Thi^bault 
 (sur Mme. Junot). 
 
 Sur les quatre mois que je demeurai d, 
 Paris, i’en passai deux il m’^tonner en 
 voyant des gens raisonnables se lais- 
 ser dominer par les hochets que la petite 
 main de I’Empereur leur jetait au visage. 
 
 Mme. Junot (1806). 
 
 HE Governor of Paris had recently 
 bought his beautiful residence, Eaincy, 
 from Ouvrard, who had owned it since 
 the Eevolution, but who had had neither the 
 money nor the taste to restore it and make it 
 worthy of its fame. Madame Junot had always 
 loved the dignified old place, and on one occa¬ 
 sion she had expressed in stronger terms than 
 usual her great liking for this relic of the old 
 regime. A few days later her husband invited 
 
 13 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 lier to liuut witli him at Eaiucy, closing with 
 the remark: 
 
 ‘‘Ouvrard has given me permission to kill a 
 few deer there, and I should be glad of your 
 company, if you can arrange to come with 
 me.” 
 
 Madame Junot called for her hat and shawl, 
 and in the clear September sunshine she was 
 soon flying with him through the streets of 
 Paris to the Strassburg road in their light cab¬ 
 riolet. They were alone, for the General drove. 
 His hand often sought the little Angers that 
 quietly rested upon the shawl, and, just as 
 often, he bent forward to peep under the broad- 
 brimmed hat into the clear brown eyes that were 
 shaded by the half-drawn veil. Not many words 
 were spoken ; but she could see, from his tender 
 glances and by the smiles that constantly played 
 about his mouth, that he was thinking happy 
 thoughts: that was enough for her. 
 
 When the carriage swung into the courtyard 
 at Eaincy, Junot lifted his young wife and car¬ 
 ried her up the stairs to the magniflcent dining¬ 
 room, where the lunch stood prepared on the 
 Sevres porcelain and silver. 
 
 Junot smilingly took the cashmere shawl from 
 
 14 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 her shoulders, and loosened the white silk rib¬ 
 bons that were tied under her round chin; for 
 as yet they had seen but one servant and the 
 groom who took the carriage. 
 
 Madame la gouvernante de Paris '^—he sol¬ 
 emnly took her hand in his and looked at her 
 with glad eyes—“how do you think a roasted 
 chicken and a glass of champagne would taste?” 
 
 “ Let us divide the chicken, dear; you drink 
 the champagne. Eeally, I think I could live on 
 sunshine and beauty in this fairy castle ! ” 
 
 He led her through the whole castle, showing 
 her the splendid salon, divided into three parts, 
 the antique bath, and the round boudoir in the 
 tower, the walls of which were hung with light, 
 almost silvery, silk, and were ornamented with 
 slender columns, alternately decked at the top 
 with silver doves and eagles. 
 
 “But this is like a fairytale!” exclaimed 
 Madame Junot. “ Is it an enchanted castle you 
 have brought me to ? ” 
 
 He took her hand and drew her to the win¬ 
 dow; there lay the park, hundi’eds of years old, 
 where the noblest game of France had grazed; 
 there merrily rippled the brook, between flow¬ 
 ers and through green meadows. . . . 
 
 15 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “ Tell me, Laurette; wliat do you really think 
 of Rainey 
 
 Madame Junot sighed. “I have told you, 
 dear, that it is a fairy castle—a home for a 
 prince and a dryad.” 
 
 She looked up at him. His eyes were moist, 
 though they beamed with roguish delight. He 
 was silent for a moment, while he continued to 
 look at her. The smile on his lips grew deeper 
 and happier as he spread his arms to her, ex¬ 
 claiming: 
 
 “It is yours, all yours! Rainey is yours! I 
 give it to you, my Queen ! ” 
 
 And so it was that the old castle became the 
 home of their young happiness, of their proud 
 plans, and of their ambitious dreams. In Octo¬ 
 ber they all moved to their new abode: Junot’s 
 old mother, his sister and her husband (who 
 had always lived with them), the English gov¬ 
 erness, and the whole staff of servants. 
 
 Hers had always been an hospitable home; for 
 the Governor’s wife was fond of company, and 
 regularly gathered many guests about her. She 
 was, too, the lady of the court who was most 
 famous for her dress. Her costumes were famous 
 16 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 for their beauty, and especially for their color¬ 
 ing, which she skilfully made to harmonize with 
 her dark complexion, dark eyes, and fine, sylph¬ 
 like figure, which now, as she was just twenty- 
 two, had the fresh roundness of the mature 
 woman. She was unusually graceful, and in 
 dancing—a pleasure that she greatly loved—she 
 had the grace of a Spanish gitana. “She dances 
 like a Bajadere dressed as a court lady,” once 
 said the Emperor of her, at a grand ball at 
 Hotel de Ville. 
 
 She had a fine, strong nature, which was 
 sturdy and not easily bent; but there was some¬ 
 thing uneven and unaccountable about her that 
 constantly reminded one of her peculiar origin. 
 She had, on the other hand, a power of astonish¬ 
 ing and dazzling by a mere glance of her large 
 eyes, a special gesture, a bend of the head, or a 
 movement of her slender body. 
 
 Madame Junot was generally considered 
 haughty and self-confident, a reputation not alto¬ 
 gether unmerited; for, in spite of her politeness 
 and her well-taught respect for social forms, she 
 had inherited from her mother a proud, non¬ 
 chalant superiority. In her veins, as in the 
 Bonapartes’, coursed royal blood. In spite of 
 
 17 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 her aristocratic tastes and her unreflecting obedi¬ 
 ence to forms and ceremonies, she could never 
 be quite molded into a court lady. 
 
 Her critical attitude toward others was always 
 alert, and gave to her irony a keenness that cut 
 all alike. The Emperor, in spite of his fault¬ 
 finding, felt, in his innermost heart, a secret 
 sympathy with this soul of fire and steel. She 
 was flexible, and yet unchangeable, like himself; 
 and he used to say that she was a little imp— 
 une petite peste —an incorrigible. 
 
 True to her Eastern origin, she loved pomp ; 
 not the official pomp of the court—the “tri¬ 
 colored” style, as she sometimes jokingly called 
 it—but the real, fantastic, tasteful, elaborate lux¬ 
 ury which she had, as a child, learned to appre¬ 
 ciate in her rich home, and which, later on, be¬ 
 came a necessity of her life. Neither she nor 
 Junot knew how to economize, for they poured 
 out money with lavish hands; and Madame 
 Junot’s jewels, it was said, compared favorably 
 with those of the Empress. 
 
 She was happy and satisfied with the high 
 position her husband occupied for the moment 
 with Napoleon, but she considered it a natural 
 and just reward for his services—not a special 
 
 18 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 fiivor. She felt very sure that there was not 
 another of his Generals to whom the Emperor 
 could entrust his capital with greater safety 
 than to Junot. 
 
 From 1800 to 1803, while Junot was Com¬ 
 mandant of Paris, he had made himself both 
 loved and feared at the same time. The people 
 did not hesitate later to make it clearly under¬ 
 stood that the dissatisfactions and troubles that 
 arose during the Emperor’s absence, and during 
 the crisis of 1805, would not have occurred had 
 Junot still held command in Paris. It was, 
 therefore, quite natural that Napoleon should 
 restore him to the same position—it was to his 
 own interest—and give him still more power 
 than he had had before. 
 
 Madame Junot had spent the time before the 
 forming of the Empire and the Coronation with 
 her husband, who was then stationed at Bou¬ 
 logne. On New-year’s day, 1805, Junot was 
 appointed Ambassador to Portugal, where he 
 remained until the battle of Austerlitz. The 
 Emperor had given him his sacred promise to 
 call him at once, in case war should break out 
 again; for of all the proud titles that Junot held 
 at this time—such as, Gnmd-Offieier de V Empire, 
 
 19 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Colonel-General des Sussards, Amhassadeur ex¬ 
 traordinaire d la Cour de lAsbonne —the one which 
 he prized the highest, and which he had held 
 since 1793, was this: ‘‘Napoleon’s First Adju¬ 
 tant.” 
 
 During the early part of 1806 the Emperor 
 had detained Junot on the Continent as Governor- 
 General over Parma and Piacenza, while Madame 
 Junot traveled home from Lisbon alone. The 
 Emperor received her very cordially, spoke in 
 the highest terms about her husband, made fun 
 of the newly learned court habits of this twenty- 
 year-old Ambassadress—( Voyez Josephine, comme 
 elle fait hien maintenant la reverence !)—and made 
 her at once Lady in Waiting to his mother. 
 Madame Bonaparte herself felt a little uncer¬ 
 tain in her new position as Imperial and Eoyal 
 Princess. She found, however, in her young 
 attendant a helpful and sympathetic friend. 
 “Madame Junot,” she said, “is almost like my 
 own child.” 
 
 Madame Junot did a great deal of wondering 
 (as she wrote to her husband, who was still at 
 Parma) during the first months after her 
 return to Paris. For a time she was at a loss 
 to place anything—all was so changed from the 
 
 20 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Paris she had known. The monarchy, with all 
 its institutions, had sprung up in 1805 like a 
 great power. Although she had not seen Napo¬ 
 leon since 1804, she commenced to see clearly the 
 outlines of his system. The diiferent classes 
 which had been but slightly sketched when she 
 left the Tuileries now stood arranged in solid 
 ranks, well grouped around the throne; the eti¬ 
 quette of the court had grown quite as strong 
 and severe as under Louis XIV. The luxury 
 which hitherto had retained some of the lawless 
 charm of the Directorate suddenly became offi¬ 
 cial, regular, and “authorized”—like every¬ 
 thing else. The old titles came into use again; 
 letters were dated occording to the Gregorian 
 calendar; and, at the grand fetes in the Marshal’s 
 hall and in the Diana gallery, you no longer 
 amused yourself, but were amused. 
 
 Madame Junot opened her large eyes and bit 
 her quick tongue when she met the new court 
 ladies for the first time. Were they really the same 
 people whom she had seen so often in the salons 
 of Faubourg St. Germain 1 Had she not heard 
 them vent their sarcasm over the restless little 
 Corsican ? Were they really the same who used 
 to boast that they called on Madame Bonaparte, 
 
 21 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 but never visited the General’s receptions? Yes, 
 they were the same ; she knew their faces and 
 their names ; but she did not recognize their ex¬ 
 pressions. 
 
 Were the young gentlemen who now figured 
 so neatly in the costume quadrille, led by Prince 
 Louis and the Grand Duchess of Berg—were 
 they really the same whom she had seen draped 
 in togas earnestly calling each other Brutus and 
 Torquatus ? Ah, after all, Olichy did not lie so 
 far from the Tuileries as Eome from Paris! 
 
 She never forgot the first official fete after 
 she returned from Lisbon. It was the grand 
 “circle,” with concert and ball, which the 
 Emperor gave at the Marshal’s hall in honor of 
 Prince Louis, whom he had recently selected to 
 be the King of Holland. In the earlier days 
 one conversed in the Tuileries as in any other 
 salon in Paris ; even at the grand Quintidi din¬ 
 ners—in which so many different elements had 
 joined—there had at least been something like a 
 reflection of the glad and easy spirit of Vancien 
 regimes. But now! When she took her seat 
 that evening in the semicircle of ladies arrayed 
 in gala costumes, with court mantles and che- 
 rusque of stiff-pointed gold lace—weU, it was 
 
 22 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 out of the question to expect one’s neighbor to 
 make joking remarks. The ladies sat as silently 
 as in church during mass, while the gentlemen 
 silently stood behind their chairs, or in rows 
 along the walls, awaiting the arrival of their 
 Majesties. Empress Josephine entered quietly 
 and without ceremony, followed by her suite; 
 she bowed gracefully and solemnly, and took her 
 place at the throne, while silence again spread 
 over the hall, broken only by the rustle of silk 
 and the noise of fans as they opened and closed. 
 
 Madame Junot could not deny that she was es¬ 
 pecially curioiTS to see the Emperor under these 
 different circumstances. At other times when 
 she had met him, after a long absence, it ap¬ 
 peared to her that he had remained the same— 
 unchangeably the same : always in the same un¬ 
 pretentious uniform of the Guard that she had 
 seen him wear since the 18th Brumaire, and he 
 always had the same careless, sometimes good- 
 natured, sometimes commanding and ironical, 
 manner that she knew so well—even at the time 
 when he was a young Lieutenant, a General, and 
 First Consul. He was a little stouter now, but 
 his fuller form became him well, and his skin, no 
 longer yellow, had the dull paleness of marble. 
 
 23 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 At last the roll of the drums was heard ; then 
 the guards threw open the doors. 
 
 “TheEmperor ! ” exclaimed every one, rising. 
 Napoleon stepped quickly in, preceded by his 
 first Palace Prefet and followed by a large suite. 
 His walk had the same restless agility as before, 
 and it seemed to Madame Junot that, in his 
 impatience, he would stumble over his throne, 
 so rapidly did he walk toward it. To-night he 
 was in gala costume, with French dress coat and 
 knee-breeches of white silk and gold embroidery. 
 He carried the Legion of Honor’s large chain of 
 diamonds, and wore a broad scarf, tied at the side. 
 Over one shovdder hung a short purple mantle em¬ 
 broidered with golden bees ; inside of this, on the 
 white silk lining, an enormous laurel-crowned A 
 glittered with gold and jewels. In his hand he 
 carried a Henry IV. hat ornamented with a dia¬ 
 mond buckle and with immense white plumes 
 that almost trailed on the fioor. The gentlemen 
 of his suite—she knew them all—wore similar 
 costumes, except that they were of different color. 
 All wore white silk stockings, and all carried 
 hats with feathered ornaments. 
 
 Madame Junot saw the Emperor speak to young 
 Mol6 and Vicomte de Laval-Montmorency, who 
 
 24 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 had been lately elected Governor in Compiegne. 
 She followed him with her gaze, and suddenly, 
 over this ocean of heads, her eyes naet his. These 
 friends of childhood exchanged glances and 
 smiled simultaneously. The Emperor turned, 
 passed his small white hand over his chin, and 
 addressed a few words to her Majesty’s newly 
 elected court lady, the Duchess of Luynes-Ohev- 
 reuse. 
 
 25 
 
Ill 
 
 L’homme qua j’aime et qua j’admire 3, 
 regal cle Dieu — si ce n’est plus. 
 
 Lo Gfn^ral Junot 
 (de Bouaparte, en figypte, an VII.). 
 
 Ella etait fort Slogan te, ouvrait ton jours 
 le bal avec le gouvarneur de Paris, jouait 
 au whist avec le gouverneur de Paris, 
 recevait seul, de preference Hl tout autre, 
 le gouverneur de Paris. Enfin ce pauvre 
 gouverneur de Paris qui n’etait pas un 
 ange . . . 
 
 Mme. Junot (Mem.). 
 
 tlie season of 1806-7 iiromised to 
 isually gay in Paris, insjiirited as 
 by the many brilliant victories of 
 the army, it did not show any marked brilliancy 
 until Christmas. The Emperor and his stalf 
 and the young officers of the Guard were natu¬ 
 rally missed, for they were still with the army 
 at Berlin. So Paris did not quite wake up until 
 the Empress had again changed her residence 
 from Mainz to the Tuileries. 
 
 A brilliant circle of foreign ambassadors had 
 been added to society. Europe had sent her most 
 intelligent and winning diplomats to the court of 
 the new Caesar, and as this new court grew day by 
 
 
 HOUGH 
 be um 
 it was 
 
 26 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 day, it could count among its members de¬ 
 scendants of the oldest and most aristocratic 
 names of France. Besides, there was now a 
 young and happy gouvernante of Paris, who 
 knew that she would fulfil the Emperor’s wish 
 when she did les honneurs for his capital as 
 elaborately as possible. 
 
 Society soon divided itself into factions, how¬ 
 ever, as soon as it lost the Tuileries as its social 
 center. The Queen of Naples lived cpxietly at 
 Luxembourg, and neither the Princess Borghese 
 nor the Grand Duchess of Berg—though she 
 held court like a little sovereign in her Palace 
 Elysee-Napoleon—had superiority enough to 
 join the different elements and neutralize their 
 hostilities. 
 
 In the meantime there was a great deal of 
 dancing, not only at Faubourg St. Germain, 
 where the Duke of Luynes received every even¬ 
 ing until five o’clock in the morning, but also in 
 the more exclusive court circles. And, it could 
 not be denied, society really had a better time 
 in this manner, each faction by itself, than in 
 les grandes coliucs in the Tuileries, where the 
 Emperor experimented with his pet pi’oject: 
 ‘ ‘ Intermingling. ’ ’ 
 
 27 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Madame Junot could not as yet make up her 
 mind to leave Eaiucy. She raised all possible 
 objections every time a word was spoken about 
 moving to Paris, altbougb the palace at Champs- 
 ^^lys6es stood ready to receive them all. Every 
 one else had now settled down in the city for the 
 winter, and her husband complained that he had 
 to travel from Paris to Eaincy twice a day. 
 
 Still, Madame Junot found new excuses for 
 remaining where she was; for she knew that this 
 home, outside of Paris, was one of her best and 
 surest weapons against a certain lady who was 
 doing all in her power to make General Junot 
 accustomed to spending his time with her at the 
 ^Jysee. 
 
 The intimacy that had been so noticeable of 
 late between the Governor of Paris and Princess 
 Caroline, the Grand Duchess of Berg—in spite 
 of the long time they had known each other— 
 had but lately reached the point of attracting 
 attention. It began about the time when the 
 Emperor left the capital; and, after that, it 
 quickly grew, until ... Yes, during this 
 dull time at the court the gossips scarcely 
 touched upon anything else. 
 
 Junot was considered one of the most dignified 
 
 28 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 and imposing men in the army. He was now 
 about thirty-five years old, tall and powerful, 
 and he looked the splendid rider and undaunted 
 soldier that he was. His hair was dark-blond, 
 heavy, and curly. From his temple, across his 
 cheek, there stretched a long, broad sabre-scar, 
 that emphasized still more the stern expression 
 of his handsome face. His large, beautifully 
 formed eyes were dark-blue, with an intent, 
 sometimes fanatic, glance, which was often so 
 peculiarly sharp and keen that one shrank from 
 meeting it. His mouth was large and express¬ 
 ive. Beardless (as was the fashion), his face 
 had a touch of melancholic energy that some¬ 
 times bordered on hardness. To no one was a 
 smile more becoming, and he often added that 
 charm to his winning ways. 
 
 General Junot had the unusual faculty of 
 readily putting himself in mental sympathy 
 with others, and of communicating his delight, 
 sorrow, or indignation to those about him. It 
 was this quality that made him such an invalu¬ 
 able leader when it became necessary to inflame 
 the soldiers’ courage and to rouse them to the 
 point of facing the fire of battle. That he did 
 not fear to lead whither he asked his men to fol. 
 
 29 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 low was shown by the many scars that adorned 
 his body. 
 
 He was known as an excellent comrade, open- 
 hearted, gay, and true ; but, as a master, he was 
 impetuous and exacting. When he first entered 
 the army, his comrades called him ‘‘The Tem¬ 
 pest,” on account of all these different emotions 
 and powers of his. 
 
 He had devoted himself to Napoleon with all 
 the warmth of his soul—even during the dark 
 years of ’ 94-’ 95, when young General Bonaparte 
 suffered so bitterly from the inactivity and ob¬ 
 scurity to which he seemed forever doomed. 
 Junot was Napoleon’s Adjutant, and, like a 
 brother, he tied his fate to that of his leader. 
 He faithfully shared with his General every penny 
 that his well-to-do parents sent him; in fact, he 
 often left the management of his meager funds to 
 Bonaparte, who was the more saving of the two. 
 There were many times, though, when he rushed 
 off with his allowance and risked large parts of 
 it in the gambling-houses in the hope of gain. 
 
 For a long time Junot, as private secretary, 
 wrote Bonaparte’s letters, and in that capacity 
 patiently listened by the hour to Napoleon’s 
 fantastic projects and daring plans in which he 
 
 30 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 blindly believed. Yes, when Bonaparte was 
 imprisoned by the Convention, Jiinot insisted, in 
 his despair, that he should be imprisoned with 
 him, and offered even to give his own life to save 
 his friend. Long before the rest of the world 
 suspeeted that there was anything unusual about 
 this lean, autocratie Corsican, with his sharp, 
 hungry eyes, ruffled hair, and unbrushed shoes, 
 Junot idolized him as a genius—a higher order 
 of being. Bonaparte quietly accepted Junot’s 
 devotions and truly appreciated his friendship; 
 but it was always with that touch of superiority 
 which was natural to him, and for which no one 
 thought of blaming him. Junot was Napoleon’s 
 confidant^—'^friend of his heart,” as it was then 
 called—in Paris, Italy, and Egypt, and his 
 assistant and trusted man under the Consulate 
 and Empire. Though Napoleon never thought 
 highly of people, and seldom trusted any one, he 
 never for an instant thought of doubting Junot’s 
 faithfulness. 
 
 Junot’s position with Napoleon had early es¬ 
 tablished an intimate and confidential relation 
 with the Bonaparte family, and Madame Lsetitia, 
 Napoleon’s mother, looked upon Junot as though 
 he were her sou. When, however, Junot fell in 
 
 31 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 love with Pauline Bonaparte, Napoleon was not 
 in favor of this union, simply because neither his 
 sister nor Junot had the slighest prospects; he 
 thought that their marriage would lead only to 
 poverty and misery. 
 
 Junot had often seen Napoleon’s youngest 
 sister, Caroline, when she was a little girl, and 
 later on, after his marriage to Laurette, and after 
 Caroline had married Murat, he saw her almost 
 daily. While Junot was Commandant of Paris, 
 during the first three years of the Consulate, the 
 Murats lived at Hotel Thelusson, and, in conse¬ 
 quence, they became very intimate with his own 
 family. Caroline was, at this time, very much in 
 love with her husband, and was completely ab¬ 
 sorbed in her young happiness. 
 
 Caroline danced, of course, with General 
 Junot nearly every evening at the improvised 
 balls at Malmaison, or at the Tuileries, and she 
 often found more pleasure in his company than 
 in that of the other young ofi&cers of her brother’s 
 staff; but it never dawned upon her to fall in 
 love with Junot. In her childhood days she 
 took it for granted that Junot belonged to her 
 sister, ‘^Paulette,” and now that he was mar¬ 
 ried to Laurette and much in love with her— No, 
 32 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 she really did not think of falling in love with 
 him—at least, at that time ! 
 
 It happened immediately after Junot’s return 
 from Parma that, unaccompanied by his wife, 
 he paid his respects to her Imperial Highness, 
 Princess Caroline, at ^]lysee; for she, like many 
 of the leading ladies of the time, received 
 nearly every evening, and on this occasion she 
 had many people about her. A little tired of 
 her duties as hostess and Princess—to the latter 
 of which she was not quite accustomed—Caro¬ 
 line, with a few intimate friends, had withdrawn 
 to her boudoir, where they listened with much 
 interest to General Junot’s glowing description 
 of an episode from the war in Miihren. 
 
 He leaned lightly against the marble mantle, 
 and, with expressive gestures and thrilling 
 words, told about the brave deeds of his soldiers. 
 But Princess Caroline was not listening closely 
 to what he said, although her eyes were fixed 
 on him constantly. The glow from the chande¬ 
 lier and the tall candelabra, back of the Gov¬ 
 ernor of Paris, threw a soft light over his manly 
 form and handsome face. The light gilded his 
 blond curls and spread a glow over his warm 
 brown skin and the livid scar on his temple. 
 
 33 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 How proud liis mien ! How masterful the poise 
 of his head against the fur on his liussar cloak ! 
 How boldly his hand rested on his hip above the 
 handle of his sword ! A knight, a Bayard! 
 thought the Princess. 
 
 The moment Jiinot had finished his anecdotes 
 of heroism and sentiment, the Princess arose, 
 her dark eyes afiame with animation, and, walk¬ 
 ing toward him, she grasped his hand. 
 
 “The Emperor’s sister regrets that she has no 
 laurel wreaths to give to the bravest of his Gen¬ 
 erals,” she said, with the royal graciousness 
 which she could so well affect. “But do you 
 know how a French lady can reward a brave 
 warrior ’ ’ 
 
 Junot, at first surprised, bowed laughingly, 
 with his hand upon his heart. “Madame,” 
 said he, “a French soldier appreciates but one 
 reward . . . , ” and with his words he bent his 
 knee in knightly fashion to Caroline, who, be¬ 
 stowing upon him that tender smile which 
 faintly reminded him of her brother, laid both 
 her hands upon his shoulders and pressed her 
 lips against his forehead—upon the scar over 
 his left temple. 
 
 While she was leaning a little heavily upon 
 
 34 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 him, he felt a sudden desire to take the slender, 
 beautiful form in his arms; but he remembered 
 at once—she was the Emperor’s sister! He 
 smiled and looked up—straight into her eyes. 
 She blushed a little, and said, with great assur¬ 
 ance; 
 
 ‘Hn the future you have the right to carry 
 my colors, Mr. Governor of Paris”—she quickly 
 tore the rose-colored rosette from her belt. 
 ‘‘You know that I am Paris’ own Princess.” 
 
 There were none present upon whom this lit¬ 
 tle scene made any strong impression at the 
 time. It was quite proper that a woman should 
 become enthusiastic over daring deeds—and the 
 taste of the times required “scenes.” A kiss 
 on the forehead, moreover, meant nothing more 
 than a hand-clasp while dancing—scarcely as 
 much. There was not a cavalier who had not, 
 at least in kissing games, kissed every lady of 
 his acquaintance. For Junot there was this 
 gain from the scene: he was thenceforth per¬ 
 mitted to wear the Princess’ “colors.” 
 
 After the Coronation the appearance of the 
 social world changed from an antique model to 
 a fashion decidedly chivalric, medieval, and 
 troubadour. There was not an officer in the 
 
 35 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Emperor’s army who did not boast of having a 
 ribbon, or a scrap of lace at his sword-handle, 
 or some fair lady’s favor under the plume of his 
 chapeau. The Princess already had a whole 
 cohort of ‘ ‘ knights ’ ’; there were several among 
 the young men of the guard who, in sentimental 
 confessions—which were sometimes followed by 
 bloody duels—showed dainty rose-colored tokens 
 of affection. These they had received from the 
 same gracious hand at one or another tender 
 moment. 
 
 But Junot had felt the Princess’ warm lips 
 tremble against his forehead, though he sus¬ 
 pected that her warmth was not on account of 
 his bravery, of which he had not boasted during 
 his recital. Her Imperial Highness had shown 
 h im a great honor. He smiled to himself as he 
 walked down the stairs of ^^lysee late that night 
 —^he was used to such easy conquests—and, when 
 he reached home, he told the whole story to his 
 wife without special thought or comment. 
 
 Madame Junot, on the other hand, did not 
 take the episode so lightly. The kiss—that did 
 not trouble her; but she knit her fine eyebrows a 
 little as she said: “There has been a great deal 
 of talk about Caroline this winter, I hear. If 
 
 36 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 no one holds her back, she will be as flighty as 
 Paulette.” 
 
 Junot remarked, with a gay laugh : 
 
 “ That would be good enough for Murat! You 
 know how little he troubles himself! ” 
 
 Madame Junot, who usually appreciated a 
 piquant story at its passing value, interrupted 
 him in a short, brusque manner with the unex¬ 
 pected comment: 
 
 “I am not at all interested in the conquests of 
 her Highness.” 
 
 Toward the end of a dull, gray day in Novem¬ 
 ber, in the twilight of the music-room at Eaincy, 
 sat Madame Junot singing a little Spanish folk¬ 
 song, the few verses of which she dreamily re¬ 
 peated again and again as her hands passed 
 softly over the keys. It was a melancholy, 
 monotonous melody that faintly died away in 
 the echoing room. 
 
 Outside, the fine rain was loosening the dried 
 and withered leaves from the trees, and the mist 
 seemed as gray as the faint daylight that fell 
 dimly among the curtains. No fire burned on 
 the hearth. Everything was sad and dark 
 around this fair young woman, whose brilliant 
 
 37 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Oriental costume shone in peculiar contrast to 
 this November day. 
 
 Madame Juuot rose from the piano, still hum¬ 
 ming, and turned to the window, tapping im¬ 
 patiently on the pane. Her husband had come 
 home earlier than usual, and she was waiting to 
 speak with him before dinner, for he was to return 
 to Paris immediately after the meal. Why was 
 he so long in coming ! Hadn’t he told her some 
 time since that he would be down in a few 
 minutes ? 
 
 She suddenly drew a bracelet from her pocket 
 and examined it closely in the gray light. It 
 was much too large for her own arm; the orna¬ 
 mentation was artistically braided blond hair, 
 set in gold filigree. She would like to know 
 where he got it! 
 
 She hid it quickly when she heard Junot’s steps 
 as he walked quickly through the large salon to 
 his wife, whom he embraced and tenderly kissed. 
 
 Why did you not stay up-stairs to chat a 
 little with me ? . . . I never see you nowa¬ 
 days—and, besides, I had a lot of gay stories for 
 you to-day.” 
 
 Madame Junot smiled coldly, while she with¬ 
 drew herself a little impatiently from his arms. 
 38 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Without noticing her bad humor, he com¬ 
 menced—in an unrestrained manner, laughing 
 like a frisky boy—to tell her the news from the 
 city. He had an especially large fund of gossip 
 about Madame de Talleyrand, who was, at the 
 present, the terror and Mte noire of the court, 
 and upon whom he had called the day before. 
 
 Laurette listened silently; but as she heard 
 his clear, happy voice, his sarcastic, flippant 
 words, she was wrought to a nervous pitch of 
 uncontrollable anger. Turning suddenly upon 
 him, she took the bracelet from her pocket. 
 
 “Is this yours?” she asked, quickly, as she 
 held it before him. 
 
 The Governor of Paris flushed. He knit his 
 brow, but did not look up at his Avife. 
 
 ^‘Be sure to take it!” she said, angrily, 
 throwing it upon the table. “I am sure that it 
 is not for my sake that her Highness has sacri¬ 
 ficed her tresses ! ’ ’ 
 
 He did not speak, but took her forcibly by 
 the wrists. She fearlessly looked him straight 
 in the eyes, although he held her so tightly that 
 it pained her. 
 
 Ah, you think that I do not know Caroline 
 Bonaparte? Eemember that she has been my 
 
 39 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 best friend ! ’ ’ She emphasized her words iron¬ 
 ically. “But if you imagine that it is on ac¬ 
 count of your handsome eyes that she makes a 
 fool of herself, you are very much mistaken.” 
 
 “What in the world do you mean by this folly, 
 Laurette'?” Junot pushed her scornfully away 
 from him and spoke with great dignity. “ I do 
 not understand a word of all this.” 
 
 “No, that is just what I say—you do not un¬ 
 derstand. But I understand; she never deceives 
 me.” Madame Junot gazed angrily at him with 
 her large eyes from the other side of the table, 
 where she stood with her arms folded—as was 
 her habit when angry. 
 
 “Have you fully considered that you are now 
 the Governor of Paris ? That you have greater 
 authority than any of the other Governors—yes, 
 even more than the Duke of Brissac had ? You 
 are chief of a garrison which numbers 80,000 men; 
 you rule over Paris, the most important point in 
 the empire; you are the Emperor’s friend, his 
 First Adjutant, who, whenever you like—be it 
 day or night—has a right to go in and out of his 
 tent. Have you really thought what a power¬ 
 ful man you are, Junot ? ’ ’ 
 
 “ I do not see what all this has to do with the 
 
 40 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 bracelet—which you have ...” He did not 
 finish the words that were upon his lips. 
 
 I honestly found it upon the floor of my own 
 bedroom,” she said, coldly; ‘‘and as no one 
 comes there but you—then ...” 
 
 Junot mumbled something about the infernal 
 darkness and rang for a light. Two lackies 
 entered with a couple of tall silver lamps and 
 placed them on either side of the clock, while the 
 Governor of Paris impatiently paced the floor. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Have you finished, Laurette ? ’ ’ He stopped 
 and looked at the clock. “There is no reason 
 for letting the dinner get cold.” 
 
 “ I have finished, ” she answered, with dignity; 
 “for it is difficult to continue when one does not 
 receive an answer.” 
 
 ‘ ‘ An answer ? ” he questioned. ‘ ‘ Why should 
 I try to answer such nonsense 1 You evidently 
 think that all women are as great adepts at 
 scheming as you. Princess Caroline has done 
 us the honor to give its her friendship—yes, 
 friendship” (he said the words threateningly), 
 “and this, which you seem to appreciate so lit¬ 
 tle, I thankfully receive. ’ ’ 
 
 “Eemember, then, that I have warned you ! ” 
 she said. 
 
 41 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “ Warned! Dear Laurette, haven’t I been in 
 greater dangers than this ? ’ ’ He almost laughed 
 with scorn in his auger and vexation. 
 
 ‘^Ah! it is not the Princess’ yellow hair and 
 white arms against which I warn you—I know 
 that they would not move you in the least. Be¬ 
 ware of her plans! They are directly opposed 
 to Napoleon’s; they mean mischief!” 
 
 “Again!” he exclaimed, sarcastically. The 
 clock on the mantel struck six. The Governor’s 
 wife proudly passed her husband, who silently 
 offered her his hand to escort her to the table; 
 she took it without speaking, and thus, hand in 
 hand, they silently passed the servants, who cere¬ 
 moniously opened the doors before them. 
 
 At coffee, in the little salon, the Governor of 
 Paris remarked, with some distinctness, that he 
 had promised to spend the evening at the ^jlysee. 
 No one objected to this—not even when he added 
 the statement that, in all probability, he would 
 not be home during the next day. 
 
 That night Madame Junot found the bracelet 
 still on the table in the music-room. She put 
 it aside—among her own jewelry—and it was 
 never claimed. 
 
 42 
 
IV 
 
 Vous devez vous soumettre (disait-il tl 
 Josephine) a toutes mes fantaisies et 
 trouver tout simple que je me donne de 
 pareilles distractions . . . J’ai le droit de 
 rfipondre 6. toutes vos plaintes par un 
 eternel m o i. 
 
 M4m. de Mme. de R^musat. 
 
 L’Empereur se disait convaincu qu’il 
 avait ete ce qu’elle (Josephine) aimait le 
 mieux. Et il ajoutait en riant, qu’il ne 
 doutait pas qu’elle n’eut quitte un ren- 
 dez-vous d’amour pour venir auprSs de 
 lui. 
 
 M6moriaI de Ste HfepENB. 
 
 MPEESS Josephine had Just finished 
 ■vrith her friseur; and, ’v^rapped in a 
 richly trimmed tea-gown, she was 
 seated at ease in the middle of the room, while 
 there were exhibited before her many dresses, 
 shawls, and hats from which to choose her cos¬ 
 tume for the day. The hats rested in uphol¬ 
 stered baskets that were especially made for the 
 purpose, the dresses ou forms that showed their 
 style and materials to advantage. 
 
 Beside the Empress stood her dame d’atours, 
 her niece, the Countess de la Valette ,* but 
 
 43 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Josephine consulted no one in making her selec¬ 
 tions, for she now devoted her chief attention to 
 dress—an occupation that consumed the greater 
 part of each day. Her early toilet was made 
 behind carefully closed doors, and consisted of 
 an elaborate and artistic application of all the 
 cosmetics of the day—^many of them prepared 
 with much mystery for her particular and 
 special use. 
 
 The Empress had become, from year to year, 
 more exacting in her luxuries, until she was 
 now at the point where she changed her linen 
 three times a day; wore a pair of silk stockings 
 but once; and even her elaborate gowns seldom 
 more than once. Owing to the fact that she 
 never gave away any of her wearing-apparel, 
 she had great storerooms full of beautiful 
 dresses, and she possessed a collection of laces, 
 shawls, and jewelry which would compare well 
 with that of any Oriental ruler. 
 
 On this particular morning, late in February, 
 1807, the Empress received her friends inform¬ 
 ally in her private room, in the midst of such a 
 wealth of display of things feminine that the 
 greatest animation pervaded the group of callers. 
 Josephine was never happier than when she had 
 
 44 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 put formality aside and was plain Madame 
 Bonaparte in her most intimate circle; and now 
 that the Emperor was away, she relieved her 
 visitors from the restraint of court etiquette. 
 
 Among her friends she received no one with 
 more cordiality than Madame Junot, whose re¬ 
 cent arrival with her household at the Champs- 
 ^llysees placed her once more in contact with her 
 old acquaintance, to whom she was just now a 
 more interesting personage than usual. Joseph¬ 
 ine embraced Laurette, and inquired with genu¬ 
 ine interest about her children—especially about 
 her goddaughter, Josephine, who was a great 
 favorite with the Empress. 
 
 She then asked Madame Junot’s opinion re¬ 
 garding the peacock-blue jacket which was pro¬ 
 posed to go with a rose-colored costume; for the 
 fashion that season was, more than ever. Oriental: 
 short, open silk jackets in strong colors, hanging 
 over richly embroidered skirts of airy materials, 
 with muslin turbans for the head. Madame 
 Junot, who was noted for her good taste, con¬ 
 sidered the weighty question, and advised her 
 with much interest and pleasure. 
 
 At last, her Majesty had made her choice and 
 was ready to join the ladies of the court who 
 
 45 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 were gathered in the dressing-room. Standing 
 in groups, laughing and chatting, they had, after 
 their greetings to the Empress, spread around 
 the large room. The Marshals’ wives told news 
 from headquarters, at Warsaw, and, as they 
 glanced at Josephine, they indulged in much 
 laughing by-play and stage whispers. 
 
 The Empress sent her ladies away after a while, 
 but begged Madame Junot to remain—pretend¬ 
 ing that she wished to show her some magnifi¬ 
 cent new shawls which she had recently bought. 
 She let Mademoiselle Avrillou walk ahead of 
 them into the large wardrobe, where her Majesty 
 often spent hours in conference with her milliners 
 and tailors, and where she was always sure of 
 being undisturbed. 
 
 Laurette felt at once that there was some¬ 
 thing that troubled the Empress, who seemed 
 absent-minded and somewhat artificial in her 
 manner, though she had been friendly and gra¬ 
 cious, as usual. And Laurette had observed also 
 that she had been rather cool toward one of the 
 ladies of Princess Caroline’s court. Madame 
 Junot could not understand why Josephine 
 should choose her as a confidant, as they had 
 never been very intimate; but it was clear that 
 
 46 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 she longed to lighten her heart of some anxiety 
 or other. 
 
 After the Empress had indifferently let her 
 admire the shawls, she gave Mademoiselle Avril- 
 lon to understand, by an imi)atient movement of 
 her hand, that she should remove them. When 
 they were alone she drew Madame Junot to a 
 seat beside her on the little settee, which was 
 arranged quite cozily between the richly draped 
 window and one of the colossal cabinets of the 
 room. She then commenced, a little forced, as 
 she laid her hand upon Laurette’s shoulder: 
 
 “I know, dear Madame Junot, that I can 
 trust you . . . that you can judge au affair with 
 tact, and” (she looked up), ‘^and, if necessary, 
 keep it a secret. ’ ’ 
 
 Laurette bent forward and laid her hand upon 
 her heart. “Your Majesty, it is not necessary 
 for me to assure you that . . . ” 
 
 “Yes, I know that, I know that,” interrupted 
 the Empress, in the impetuous manner peculiar 
 to her when she was angry. 
 
 Then she added, abruptly: “Do you visit 
 much with Madame Murat ? Has she not told 
 you the great news ? ’ ’ 
 
 Madame Junot was abashed at her directness. 
 
 47 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 and di'opped her eyes before the restless, search¬ 
 ing glance of the Empress, though she managed 
 to say, with some show of curiosity: 
 
 “What news, your Majesty? I do not under¬ 
 stand . . 
 
 “Oh, you know it; I can see that you know 
 it! ” said Josephine, covering her face with her 
 hands. Then bending forward, she whispered, 
 “ Bonaparte has a son ! ” 
 
 The Empress was not mistaken. Madame 
 Junot knew all about this very peculiar story, for 
 Caroline had triumphantly told it to her some 
 time before, under promise of secrecy; she always 
 told everything to the right and left—under 
 promise of silence, to be sure that it would be 
 known. 
 
 “The Emperor,” Princess Caroline had said— 
 “yes, there is no doubt about it—the Emperor 
 has an heir. An old schoolmate of mine from 
 Madame Campan’s school; you must have known 
 her—Eleonore D6nuelle, the buxom brunette. 
 Well, the Emperor became greatly infatuated 
 with her soon after his return from Germany. I 
 confess,” continued Caroline, “that I followed 
 this story with a certain interest—partly because 
 Bonaparte really seemed to care for her, and 
 
 48 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 partly because she had confided in me from the 
 first, and I felt it my duty to protect her. You 
 know, Laurette, at my house”—this was a re¬ 
 flection upon the court of Princess Borghese— 
 “things seldom happen. My brother was much 
 interested in her condition, and his last words to 
 me were to let him know at once should it be a 
 boy. You can understand how delighted he 
 must be to have an heir at last.” 
 
 In this offhand manner Princess Caroline had 
 related the story, and she gave the impression 
 that she did not think much of the matter; but 
 Laurette read from her glances how highly she 
 valued its importance, and she could now see 
 that the Empress drew the same conclusion: 
 that at the birth of this child, Josephine was 
 threatened with the divorce which she had ceased 
 to fear after the coronation of Napoleon and 
 herself, and their union with the Church; but 
 the dreaded possibility now loomed again as 
 though it were inevitable. Josephine knew her 
 husband; she knew that after this he would have 
 but one thought: to have a legitimate heir. 
 
 With bent head, and without any effort to 
 conceal her grief, the Empress continued her 
 sad story, much to Madame Junot’s distress. 
 
 49 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “Caroline Murat started this whole intrigue,” 
 sobbed poor Josephine; “I have it from a reli¬ 
 able source. It was she who found her, and, so 
 to speak, exhibited her charms to Bonaparte. 
 As for him, this is merely a fleeting caprice; for 
 there is nothing in this world which he fears so 
 much as a woman’s power over him. At pres¬ 
 ent he considers his love affairs as mere mat¬ 
 ters of fancy—as diversions after his work, and 
 nothing else. That is why I have permitted 
 them so long. Ah, yes, Madame Junot”—she 
 carefully put her handkerchief to her eyes— 
 “what must we women not suffer ! ” 
 
 Laurette winced at the suggestion of these 
 words, and straightened herself involuntarily. 
 How she wished that she might end the conver¬ 
 sation! How hot and close the room seemed! 
 
 The Empress noticed Madame Junot’s agita¬ 
 tion, and, looking over her handkerchief at her, 
 forgot her own sorrow for a moment. 
 
 “You know, Madame Junot, I have always 
 been your friend—and Junot’s, too, though he 
 would never believe it—and I wish to warn you 
 against Madame Murat! ” 
 
 Laurette was silent, playing nervously with 
 the lace trimming of her dress, pained to think 
 
 50 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 that a stranger should have reason to speak to 
 her in this manner—and to pity her. 
 
 The Empress peeped cautiously at her with 
 dry eyes. “ And now, my dear friend, I should 
 like to ask . . . Do you know whether the 
 Princess has already sent a courier to Napo¬ 
 leon? . . .” 
 
 Yes,” answered Madame Junot. 
 
 ‘‘Oh, God!” grieved Josephine, wringing 
 her hands. “And just now—when I felt so 
 secure, and happy that Eugene had such a grand 
 position; and I had thought that Hortense’s 
 boys would be to Bonaparte all that his own 
 might have been to him. I know what an im¬ 
 pression this will make upon him! I know him! 
 He has put a crown upon his own head; he 
 wishes this to be inherited by his own flesh and 
 blood.” 
 
 Madame Junot tried, as best she could, to 
 comfort the Empress; she herself was almost 
 exhausted after this scene, and only wished to 
 get away. At last Josephine arose. 
 
 “Will you do me a favor, Madame Junot?” 
 said the Empress, taking her by the hand as she 
 rose. “I cannot ask any of my ladies about this 
 child, for the Princess trusts none of them, nor 
 
 51 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 has she friendship for any of themj but you—- 
 for you she will do anything at present.” Lau- 
 rette again felt the blush of bitter humiliation 
 upon her forehead. '^The boy has been given 
 to Achilles’ nurse, Madame Loir,” continued the 
 Empress. “Will you not try to see him? . . .” 
 She stopped to think a moment. “And tell 
 me — please give me a detailed description of 
 his looks — tell me whether he resembles his 
 father.” 
 
 Laurette was deeply moved with sympathy 
 for this wife who was alone in her solitary 
 grandeur. She kissed the Empress’ hand and 
 said, “I shall do all that your Majesty wishes.” 
 
 With a very thoughtful face, and with the 
 artificial, diplomatic air which his wife knew so 
 well, Junot came home one forenoon from the 
 Tuileries, where he had breakfasted with the 
 Empress. In his handsome, open face, that she 
 had learned to read as a book, she could see, 
 when he knit his brow and pressed his lips 
 together, that he was pondering some state 
 ^cret which would not remain long secret from 
 her. 
 
 When he entered her room a little before din- 
 
 52 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ner, she put aside her favorite volume for the 
 question she knew would be broached. 
 
 “Weill” she said, inquiringly. 
 
 “Well,” he began, hesitatingly, pulling at his 
 vest and backing against the mantel, as though 
 for support, ‘ ‘ can you guess why she wished to 
 see me ? ’ ’ 
 
 Madame Junot shook her head. 
 
 “She is anxious to secure my support for 
 Eugene, if . . . Yes, you understand; if the 
 Emperor . . . God forbid it! ” 
 
 “Has she, too, stooped to schemes and in¬ 
 trigues'? ” exclaimed Madame Junot, ironically. 
 “One might easily believe that all these silly 
 dames had learned their lesson in the same 
 school, they agree so well in their desires and 
 methods.” 
 
 Junot did not seem to hear her, pushing, as he 
 did absent-mindedly, at a log on the hearth. 
 
 “What did she say ■? ” 
 
 “Oh, she managed her approach very 
 adroitly. She began by flattering me, and 
 spoke how Napoleon had always displayed ex¬ 
 ceptional friendshii) for me, etc., etc.; and she 
 complained because he could not have his true 
 friends about him in times of danger; and that 
 
 53 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 lie risked kis life in every battle, like the com- 
 mouest soldiers; aud . . 
 
 “Well, she reached, then, the—” 
 
 “Yes, then came the qnestion that she had at 
 heart. She asked me if I believed that the 
 France he had created would ever fall back 
 again into the anarchy of the Directorate. Be¬ 
 sides, did I think there was any one strong 
 enough to inherit it.” 
 
 ‘ ‘ And you answered ? ’ ’ asked Madame Junot, 
 breathlessly, as she raised herself on her elbow. 
 
 “I told her, as a matter of course, that this 
 calamity was warded off by the Emperor and the 
 Senate; that the King of Naples, Prince Louis, 
 and his sons—yes, even Jerome—fully secured 
 the succession. On the other hand, she didn’t 
 believe that the army would tolerate any such 
 arrangement, and thought that a guardian rul¬ 
 ing for the little Napoleon was quite impossible 
 under the present condition. She thought that 
 perhaps Prince Eugene, who is so well liked by 
 the army, and so popular in both France and 
 Italy . . . But you readily understand what 
 she wanted.” 
 
 Laurette for a moment played idly with the 
 fringe of her dress. 
 
 54 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘‘Yes, I understand. . . . And Murat?” 
 she asked, suddenly opening her eyes and flash¬ 
 ing them straight at her husband. “What does 
 the future hold for Murat and the Princess 
 Caroline ? ’ ’ 
 
 65 
 
V 
 
 “ O, la drole de tete 1 ” 
 
 Mme. JuNOT de la Princess Pauline. 
 
 s A surprise to Madame Junot upon 
 lier return from Eaincy, her husband 
 had had her chamber redecorated and 
 furnished in the grand style of the Empire—ma¬ 
 hogany, with bronze ornaments; and the heavy 
 draperies at the windows and around the bed 
 were dark green. But the effect was too heavy 
 and somber—Junot himself admitted that the 
 room looked more like a tomb of a king than 
 the shrine of his love. Every piece of the fur¬ 
 nishings, however, had been designed by a Per- 
 cier or a Fontaine, and had won for its style 
 and elegance the praise of all who had seen the 
 room. 
 
 Laurette’s little head still nestled quietly on 
 the big lace pillow, though it had long been 
 day. Her cheek rested lightly on her folded 
 hands, while she gazed dreamily at the door. 
 56 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 The curtains were still drawn, and upon a black 
 marble column, above the steps leading to the 
 bed, there still burned dimly an antique veil- 
 leuse. 
 
 Suddenly there was a stir, and the noise of 
 many voices in the salon next the chamber. 
 Laurette listened for an instant, and then she 
 rang vigorously. But at the same instant the 
 folding doors were thrown open, and almost 
 before the valet had time to announce “Son 
 Altesse Imperial et Royale, Madame la Duchesse 
 de Guastalla, ’ ’ Pauline Borghese hurried into the 
 room with her peculiar, irregular walk. 
 
 ‘^Lie still, little Laurette!” cried her Impe¬ 
 rial Highness, climbing on the great bed with¬ 
 out much regard to her dignity. ‘‘You see, I 
 have something of great importance to tell 
 you,” she continued, as she settled herself 
 comfortably against the foot-board. But she 
 began with a complaint of her own: “Why 
 don’t you ever come to see me, Laurette? Nor 
 Junot, either ? He has evidently forgotten how 
 pretty I was in Italy. I am just as pretty now 
 —even prettier,” and she surveyed with satisfiic- 
 tiou her reflection in a mirror that was opposite; 
 
 ‘ ‘ but he never looks—except at Caroline ! al- 
 
 67 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ways at Caroline ! Yes, yes, Laurette, you too 
 may regret some day that you have always pre¬ 
 ferred Caroline to me . . 
 
 “Bnt your Highness has something of great 
 importance to tell me,” interposed Madame 
 Junot, trying, with a grimace, to draw up a foot 
 which Princess Pauline was almost crushing be¬ 
 neath her. 
 
 “Yes, I have news for you. But first, pray 
 tell me why you have never invited me to any 
 of your entertainments at Eaincy? But only 
 Caroline! always Caroline! ... I’ll give you 
 just one word of warning, Laurette”—here she 
 bent forward and spoke with the utmost clear¬ 
 ness—“Caroline hasn’t the least idea of tact or 
 discretion.” 
 
 Though Madame Junot felt keenly the sugges¬ 
 tion hidden in these words, she could not help 
 laughing to hear the Princess speak of “tact 
 and discretion.” 
 
 “But, your Highness,” she said, in a consol¬ 
 ing voice, “hunting is the only pleasure we 
 have to offer our guests at Eaincy. You do 
 not ride, and you dislike to be driven about in 
 a calash ; . .” 
 
 “I could be carried around in a palanquin 
 
 58 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 . . proudly suggested tlie Princess; and 
 then, as they pictured such a scene, both ladies 
 laughed gaily. 
 
 ‘‘What have you done with your husband 
 this morning, little Laurette? I thought you 
 always shared the same room—you certainly did 
 when you lived in Eue de Verneuil. Where is 
 Junot ? I suppose he will come to bid me good¬ 
 morning, for I am one of his oldest friends. 
 You can’t imagine how deeply he was in love 
 with me when we were at Marseilles, and later 
 too, especially in Italy.” 
 
 Madame Junot, ringing, inquired for “Mon¬ 
 seigneur. ’ ’ 
 
 He had gone out. 
 
 “That looks as though he is in the habit of 
 paying early visits,” said the Princess, opening 
 her eyes and assuming a severe expression. 
 “Eeally, Laurette, you should not permit such 
 a state of affairs.” 
 
 “ Is there nothing I can do for you, madame ? ” 
 answered Madame Junot, sharply, in order to 
 cover her distress and the tears that already 
 threatened to fall. 
 
 “Why, how stupid you look! You know as 
 well as I what great influence he has at the fily- 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 s4e; and, of course, lie lias been called to confer 
 with Caroline about our comedy. Haven’t 
 you heard that we shall give a comedy, as well 
 as ‘The Barber of Seville,’ on St. Joseph’s day, 
 the 19th of March ? The comedy is especially 
 in honor of the Empress, and you must take 
 part in it, too. Why, of course you must take 
 part, Laurette ! ’ ’ 
 
 “ But, madame, you forget my condition.” 
 
 “Your condition! Well, I’ll see to it that 
 Caroline selects a part for you in which your 
 condition will not show. She is to be the hero¬ 
 ine, Caroline, and Junot has been cast for the 
 part of the hero, whose name, by the way, is 
 Charles. The story is something about the 
 Emperor’s victories—about Jena and Eylau. It 
 will be something grand ! ” 
 
 “But I am to be Bosina in ‘The Barber of 
 Seville,’ which will be given first that evening. 
 Don’t you think that my costume will be becom¬ 
 ing to me? I am to have a rose-colored hat 
 with large black feathers, and a short skirt of 
 rose silk, and a black lace apron. Oh, I shall 
 look much prettier than the pale Hortense did, 
 when she played that part at Malmaison four or 
 five years ago! You recall that night, don’t 
 
 60 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 you, with Bourrienne and Savary? But what 
 am I thinking of ? ” 
 
 Princess Pauline started up and pulled all 
 three of the hell-cords that hung against the 
 wall. 
 
 ^^Tou haven’t yet seen my new Chamberlain, 
 Laurette ! ” 
 
 To the lackey and two maids who rushed in 
 at this moment she called: 
 
 “Show in the gentleman who is waiting in 
 the salon ! ” 
 
 The lackey again threw open the door, and in 
 his most solemn tone announeed: 
 
 “Monsieur de Forbin.” 
 
 As though he were shot out of a cannon, M. 
 de Forbin came into the room, bowing very se¬ 
 riously to the two ladies on the bed. Princess 
 Pauline smiled, and, with a gracious movement 
 of the hand, she turned to Madame Junot. 
 
 “There he is, Laurette,” she said, in a voice 
 intended to pass for a whisper. “ What do you 
 think of him, little friend?” 
 
 The Princess’ new Chamberlain heard what 
 she said as well as Madame Junot. He was 
 really a handsome fellow—tall, graceful, and 
 elegant. It suddenly occurred to him that he 
 
 61 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 had been called simply to be exhibited as an ex¬ 
 ample of Princess Pauline’s good taste. He 
 blushed to the roots of his hair and remained 
 standing in the same position, with his head a 
 little bent. 
 
 Pauline Bonaparte surveyed the handsome 
 fellow closely, smiled graciously, and, beckon¬ 
 ing to him, said: 
 
 “Monsieur de Forbin, will you be so kind as 
 to help me down from here ? Yes, so—^thanks ! ’ ’ 
 
 She leaned heavily upon his arm, and bent 
 down once more over Madame Junot. “Well, 
 my pigeon, I shall see you again at the first 
 rehearsal at the ^llysee.” She kissed Laurette, 
 and whispered again—this time in Italian: 
 “Look at him! Snch a back!—such a car¬ 
 riage !—such a pair of legs . . . ! What do 
 you think, little Laurette ? ’ ’ 
 
 When Junot came home the day of Princess 
 Pauline’s call, he discovered his wife in her room 
 busy arranging some flowers in a tall alabaster 
 vase that adorned the mantel. As he drew near 
 her, he failed to win any welcoming glance from 
 her, and for a time had to content himself with 
 watching her at her task. 
 
 62 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘‘Tour old friend Pauline, the Prineess Bor- 
 ghese, left her regards for you this morning,” 
 she began, at length. 
 
 ‘^Yes?—thanks! I am glad they are not 
 from Prince Borghese ”—his voice sounded 
 forced and unnatural, aud he fixed his gaze 
 sharply upon Laurette’s profile. 
 
 She shook her head indifferently. “Prince 
 Borghese ! Why should you think of him now ? 
 Oh, no; he is a sensible fellow, and will wait a 
 few months before he continues his advances. 
 We shall then see what they lead to, when the 
 fort is no longer enceinte. ’ ’ 
 
 “ What sort of language is this ! Must I listen 
 to this from you too, Laurette?” he asked, 
 sharply, knitting his brow. 
 
 “ It is the language that my high-born friends, 
 their Imperial Highnesses, Princess Borghese and 
 the Grand Duchess of Berg and Cleve, teach 
 me,” she answered, in a nonchalant manner^ 
 holding one of the rose stems in her teeth. 
 “Besides, since you are the only one who hears 
 these tales of mine, I surely might be allowed 
 to boast a little when I have a royal admirer.” 
 
 “I don’t catch your meaning.” 
 
 “I don’t mean anything, my dear. I have 
 
 63 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 just told you that niy admirer has, for the 
 present, ... I should say, rather, I have no 
 chance with him. Meantime I have nothing 
 else to do but to put on my best visiting cos¬ 
 tume and drive to the ^llys6e, where I have been 
 ordered by Princess Caroline—probably to hear 
 a lecture about how I should behave ! ” 
 
 Juuot sat down near the window and drummed 
 nervously on the table. 
 
 “Listen, Laurette”—he clutched her arm as 
 she passed him—“what has Princess Pauline 
 said to anger you so? Now . . .” He firmly 
 held her by her elbows with both hands, and 
 looked searchingly into her eyes. 
 
 Laurette laughed — with a clear, taunting 
 laugh. ^ ^ Nothing! Why should you think that 
 she would say anything to excite me? She is 
 good nature and amiability personified. She 
 was so charming that she even compelled me to 
 take part in a comedy which Caroline and you 
 are arranging. She seemed a little sui-prised 
 that I did not know anything about it, and came 
 to the conclusion that it was probably to save 
 me that you had kept it so quiet. ’ ’ 
 
 Junot dropped his wife’s arm. ‘ ‘ Certainly ! ’ ’ 
 he said, bruskly. 
 
 64 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘‘And I thank you for your consideration,” 
 continued Madame Juuot, quietly. “It would 
 not be i:»leasant for me to appear just now side 
 by side with Princess Caroline; but it looks 
 as though her Highness wishes to place me at 
 that disadvantage, because she has sent me a 
 summons that sounds very much like a com¬ 
 mand.” 
 
 Madame Junot had now entirely forgotten her 
 assumed satirical coldness, and was becoming 
 very angry. 
 
 “I will not be the setting for a tableau that 
 shall glorify the touching love of Charles and 
 Caroline,'’'^ she said, suddenly, full of wrath. 
 
 Junot was quite as angry as she, as he paced 
 the floor with rapid steps. 
 
 ‘ ‘ It appears that you think it is I who will 
 force you to take part in this comedy ! I can 
 assure you of the opposite, as I have done 
 all . . .” 
 
 “You need not assure me of your objection. 
 I can readily understand why yo.u wished to be 
 rid of me at the rehearsals,” she coldly inter¬ 
 rupted. 
 
 Junot turned and looked sternly at her as she 
 stood by the window, her back to the light, 
 
 C5 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 with one hand resting on the marble table. She 
 stood there—so small and delicate, with her 
 heavy burden—and he could see that she nerv¬ 
 ously tried to keep from breaking down and 
 bursting into tears at his glances. He stepped 
 quickly up to her, took her tenderly around her 
 shoulders, and gently laid her head upon his 
 breast. 
 
 My poor Laura,” he said, quietly, “you— 
 you don’t know how you pain me. . . .” 
 
 She sobbed deeply and convulsively for a short 
 time. Than she controlled herself, lifted her 
 head, and looked up at him with her large brown 
 eyes, that so honestly reflected every thought of 
 her soul. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Come, ’ ’ she said, “ let us speak frankly with 
 each other. This state of affairs is unbearable 
 and—and—unworthy ...” 
 
 Together they sat down upon a sofa that was 
 placed under a mirror, his arm still resting 
 lightly about her shoulders. 
 
 “I do not ask you to be sincere,” she con¬ 
 tinued in a low tone, as she dried her eyes. 
 “I know it isn’t the fashion—that it isn’t 
 knightly to be sincere—that it isn’t good form. 
 And I expect to live up to the demands of the 
 
 66 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 times. I realize that a man must keep silent 
 while he plays the part of cavalier to a lady, 
 even though there is a knife at his throat. I 
 would not have you, for my sake. . . . No, do 
 not speak! It isn’t necessary—I have good 
 eyes. You know that I have suffered much— 
 but the women of my set must suffer. And 
 though it has been harder for me than for some 
 of the rest, 1 have been able to endure it. I am 
 your wife; and in the depths of my heart I know 
 that, though I have a hundred rivals, your love 
 for me is honest and noble. Just because I am 
 your wife, I do not envy any of my rivals.” 
 
 She raised her eyes and looked up at him 
 almost archly. “Yet,” she said, “I am the 
 only woman in the world whose life you would 
 take with your own hand. If I were unfaithful 
 to you—if you found me in the arms of another, 
 —you would kill me, although you would treat 
 lightly the unfaithfulness of a lady-love for 
 whose ‘ honor ’ you would give your life. But 
 just because I am your wife, I do not envy any 
 of my rivals.” 
 
 He did not answer, but he bent down arid 
 tenderly kissed the little hand which rested 
 lightly on his arm. 
 
 67 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ^ ‘ So long as it concerned only my own happi¬ 
 ness,” she continued, “I have not complained; 
 I know that in war a man seldom remains true 
 —yes, you cannot say that I have taken this too 
 sentimentally. I have not bothered you with 
 petty jealousies. ’’ 
 
 ‘‘It has not often been necessary, Laurette,” 
 said he, smilingly. “Taking it altogether, you 
 have held me so securely that there have been 
 times that I did not even care to look at other 
 women. Who was like you? Who could en¬ 
 chant and love like you ? ...” 
 
 A faint smile flitted over Madame Junot’s 
 face, and she lifted her handkerchief to her lips 
 to conceal it. He saw this, however, and, jubi¬ 
 lantly happy over this sign of forgiveness, he 
 tore the lace handkerchief from her hand and 
 lovingly kissed the sweet, telltale lips. 
 
 “Laurette, my own, you must not be harsh 
 with me. You know yourself that it is only 
 you—you alone—who means anything to me! 
 Without you life would be nothing ! ” 
 
 “I know it,” she said, seriously, “but . . .” 
 
 “ No ‘ but 1 ’ ” he exclaimed, joyously. “Now 
 you have given me a little bit of pardon, I can 
 begin to live again and to hope.” 
 
 68 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 She laid her hand over his mouth and looked 
 sternly at him. 
 
 ‘‘I have not forgiven you—I can never for¬ 
 give you. But, as I told you, the question does 
 not concern me. Do you really not see that 
 this is a serious matter that concerns you per¬ 
 sonally and officially ? ’ ’ 
 
 ^‘What! are you coming back to the same 
 old story ? ’ ’ said he, with a shade of disappoint¬ 
 ment in his tone. 
 
 “Unfortunately, more people than I have this 
 idea. Think of the consequences, if the Emperor 
 should learn of this intrigue, or even suspect 
 it! ” And she looked anxiously into his eyes. 
 
 “Oh, he knows very well what sort of a 
 woman his sister is—none better!” exclaimed 
 Junot, reassuringly. 
 
 “You may rest certain that he doesn’t know 
 the important affairs .she is rashly meddling with; 
 and if he did, he would see to it that no one else 
 should know about them and her connection with 
 them. ’ ’ 
 
 “Don’t believe for a moment that the Em¬ 
 peror is the only one in Paris who does not 
 understand his sister Caroline. For, of course,” 
 he continued, in the lofty tone of one whose 
 
 69 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 position with the Emperor was secure, “any 
 suspicion would be about her alone—in this 
 case. ’ ’ 
 
 “Of course ! ” answered Madame Junot, match¬ 
 ing his certainty by her own growing faith. 
 Then, rising, she added: “But I must go to 
 the ^Jlys6e to take my lesson in good manners. 
 Will you escort me V’ 
 
 He mumbled something that was unintelligible. 
 “Surely! You are right! I forgot that you 
 had been there once to-day. Aha! after all the 
 trouble her Highness takes with you, you are 
 destined to become a model man ! ’ ’ 
 
 70 
 
VI 
 
 Je souhaite k Sa Majeste 
 D’abord tout ce qu’elle dfeire, 
 
 Ensuite une bonne sante 
 
 Et puis toujours de quoi pour rire. 
 
 Elle, 6tant reine, et ne pouvant 
 Lui souhaiter une couronne, 
 
 Je lui souhaite seuleraent 
 
 Autant de bonheur qu’elle en donnel 
 
 Poeme a I’occasion de la fete de I’lm- 
 peratrice Josephine le 19. mars 1807. 
 
 N the 19th of March the court spent 
 the entire day at Malmaisou, The 
 ladies breakfasted with the Empress 
 in the large dining-hall on the first floor. Upon 
 the long stucco walls, with their pale nymphs 
 done in fresco, were hung garlands of flowers, 
 and the table was adorned with exquisite flow¬ 
 ers from the imperial conservatories. Her 
 Majesty had especially invited the children to 
 be present at her birthday breakfast. She sat 
 between her goddaughter, Josephine Junot, and 
 her little niece, Princess Lmtitia Murat. They 
 were each about five years old—that age of re- 
 
 71 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 freshing innocence and budding curiosity. They 
 were revelling in their unaccustomed liberty, or, 
 rather, license, as they filled and refilled their 
 plates with the dainty sweetmeats. 
 
 The Empress was in excellent humor to-day, 
 and seemed to have forgotten all her troubles. 
 She had received from her husband a hearty let¬ 
 ter which she passed around with delight so 
 that all the ladies could read it. 
 
 “We are all longing for Paris,” Napoleon 
 wrote—“the Paris one misses everywhere; and, 
 to satisfy our longing for it, we are running our¬ 
 selves out of breath after honor—after honor 
 that is to be applauded by an opera parquet.” 
 
 “He longs^ for Paris.” The ladies smiled 
 meaningly at each other, pointing to the sen¬ 
 tence as they passed the letter from hand to 
 hand. They also had had news from headquar¬ 
 ters in Poland, and knew that some one there 
 did not speak so much about Paris as about a 
 certain Madame Walewski. 
 
 But, anyhow, Josephine was pleased. There 
 had also come costly presents and good news from 
 the King and Queen of Hollands But Madame 
 de E6musat, the Empress’ friend and lady in 
 waiting, was far from being so delighted as her 
 72 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 mistress. She shook her head as she pointed, 
 with an almost tragic air, at^the exquisite portrait 
 of the little Prince of Holland. The picture was 
 painted on a box of crystal, set in gold filigree, 
 and had just come by a courier from The Hague. 
 
 “The poor Queen ! ” she said, with a sigh, as 
 she lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “Her Majesty 
 does not know how unhappy she is, thank God ! 
 But I . . . oh, I can read the dread message 
 between the lines of her letters. But in the face 
 of the storm she is an angel! ” she added, with 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 In spite of the hostess’ good humor, the general 
 spirit at the table seemed a little forced. Madame 
 Junot was sad, irritable, and indisposed. Prin¬ 
 cess Pauline was nervous; she was afraid of her 
 songs. She knew that she sang them miserably, 
 in spite of all flattery. Caroline was—goodness 
 knows why !—in a most dreadful humor—excited 
 and hurt. During the whole breakfast she kept 
 making sarcastic remarks to nearly every one 
 present, but especially to Madame E6musat, 
 whom she did not like. Madame Eeniusat, who, 
 unfortunately, had to take part in the opera, 
 endured all the slights with becoming modesty; 
 but the smile around her mouth grew more and 
 
 73 
 
The Governor’s \^^fe 
 
 more strained, and the glances from her large, 
 piercing eyes were almost cutting. 
 
 While the ladies were gathered in the Em¬ 
 press’ boudoir to admire the large diamond neck¬ 
 lace which the Emperor had just sent her, 
 suddenly the Grand Duchess of Berg and Cleve 
 burst into a nervous fit of crying which ended 
 in a faint. 
 
 Although the Princess collapsed near Madame 
 Junot, the latter did not stir to aid her j on the 
 contrary, the Governor’s wife, as thongh nothing 
 had happened, continued her conversation with 
 Madame Ney, who sat across the table, and who 
 did not have time to arise before the Empress, 
 much alarmed, had rushed to Caroline’s side. 
 
 They loosened Caroline’s dress to give her air, 
 when from her bosom there fell a loosely folded 
 note. The Empress saw it, and, with the for¬ 
 bearance so natural and peculiar to her when it 
 concerned secrets of that sort, she caught it 
 quickly and stuck it in her sister-in-law’s hands, 
 which she then held in hers. She glanced 
 quickly at Madame Junot to see whether the lat¬ 
 ter had noticed anything, for her Majesty had 
 recognized the handwriting as Junot’s. 
 
 The Governor’s wife sat perfectly quiet in her 
 
 74 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 low easy-chair, bending over the diamonds with 
 which her hand mechanically played. 
 
 When Caroline again gained consciousness 
 she nervously crushed the note of which the 
 Empress, by a slight pressure of the hand, re¬ 
 minded her. 
 
 “Itisa . . . a letter from Murat,” she mur¬ 
 mured. 
 
 Madame Junot turned her head a little, and 
 peeped sidewise at her from under her long eye¬ 
 lashes. 
 
 The performance of “The Barber of Seville” 
 was not a perfect success. Princess Pauline 
 looked bewitching enough in her fantastic peas¬ 
 ant costume, but such of her lines as she had to 
 sing she sang so decidedly false that even she 
 herself was conscious of the discord, and soon 
 lost her temper. Those who understood a little 
 about acting—and most of them did—sighed at 
 the memory of how differently the part of 
 Rosina had been played five years before there 
 at Malmaison, when Hortense Beauharnais was 
 the acknowledged star of the occasion. Of her 
 acting that evening, Madame Junot wrote many 
 years after this: 
 
 76 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘^To her fine acting she united a charming 
 figure and an exquisite carriage. Many years 
 have elapsed since those joyous evenings, but my 
 memory still Torcibly recalls the graceful and 
 pleasing image of Mademoiselle Beauharnais, 
 with her profusion of fair ringlets beneath a 
 black velvet hat, ornamented with long, pink 
 feathers, and the black dress so admirably fitted 
 to her small and symmetrical shape! I seem yet 
 to see and hear her, and it is truly a sweet and 
 smiling illusion.” 
 
 With such a vision in her memory, it was no 
 wonder that Madame Junot derived little pleas¬ 
 ure from Princess Pauline’s rendering of the 
 part, and she looked forward with even less 
 enjoyment to the rest of the program. In fact, 
 during the performance of the comedy which 
 followed “The Barber of Seville,” Madame 
 Junot became positively angry that she had been 
 made to take part in such nonsense, and she 
 had much difficulty in controlling herself. 
 
 Junot was really the only one in the comedy 
 who covered himself with glory. He had always 
 been a good amateur performer, and this time he 
 played with a verve and fire which lent a de¬ 
 cided charm to his part. He was the hero, a 
 76 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 young peasant who returns to his village after 
 the battle of Jena and finds his sweetheart, 
 Caroline, greatly annoyed by the persistent at¬ 
 tentions of a shallow-pated fop. But, thanks 
 to the good fairy, the Empress, who lives at 
 Malmaison, aU ends well, and they are solemnly 
 united by the Mayor of their native village. 
 
 Junot gave quite as strong and true an expres¬ 
 sion of the young soldier’s patriotic enthusiasm 
 over the victories in Germany as of his anxiety, 
 his love, and, finally, of his jubilant happiness 
 over possessing his loved one. Princess Caroline 
 played her part with no more meaning than a 
 porcelain doll might have given it. She had an 
 unfortunate accent at all times, and on the stage 
 she lost her natural and self-possessed manner, 
 becoming so overdrawn and sentimental in her 
 acting as to give the impression that she was 
 producing a parody. 
 
 But when Charles, with half-bent knee and 
 outstretched arms, turned to the bride whom 
 he had won, the royal actress at last showed 
 some life and naturalness. Amid the rousing 
 applause that greeted this scene near the end of 
 the play, a tremor—almost a shock—passed 
 through the bride; while over her painted cheeks. 
 
 77 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 before so white, there spread a warm blush down 
 to her velvety neck; her eyes beamed suddenly, 
 and, as she lowered them with a smile, she in¬ 
 toned, in an unusually true and sweet voice, the 
 melody of ‘ ^ Oh, ma tendre Musette, ’ ’ the lovers’ 
 last duette: 
 
 “ In spite of danger and snares, 
 
 I belong but to you, my love.” 
 
 After the curtain had dropped, and while the 
 actors still stood on the stage listening to the ap¬ 
 plause, Charles and Caroline stood, full of en¬ 
 chantment, still gazing at each other. The 
 young soldier’s face beamed as though he had 
 suddenly had a heavenly vision, while M. de 
 Brigode, who had taken the part of the fop, 
 whispered to M. de Montbriton: 
 
 ^'The Governor of Paris is much too realistic ! 
 How well the Princess has at last profited by 
 his instruction ! I wonder if they have not re¬ 
 hearsed more often than we ? . . 
 
 Later there was dancing in the gallery, as in 
 days of old, and Madame Junot sat by the side 
 of the Queen of Naples. After the strain and 
 excitement, of which the day had been so full. 
 
 78 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 she scarcely tried to conceal how vexed and un¬ 
 happy she felt. 
 
 She saw her husband dance with Princess 
 Caroline time after time, she saw their eyes meet 
 in the gleam of the wax candles, and she under¬ 
 stood what all the rest seemed now, also, to 
 understand. 
 
 She felt herself more deeply and bitterly hum¬ 
 bled than ever before. She thought of the talk 
 they had had a few weeks before, when she had 
 so honestly confessed to him what she felt in her 
 heart. She thought how she had put herself 
 and her feelings as wife secondary, and how 
 earnestly she had spoken to him of the danger 
 to which he politically exposed himself by being 
 on intimate terms with the Emperor’s enemies. 
 Yes, enemies ! She knew that Caroline’s in* 
 trigue meant nothing less—and Napoleon, with 
 his clear, penetrating insight into the heart of 
 things, would understand as much as soon as he 
 again set foot in Paris. 
 
 This evening she had discovered a great deal 
 more than ever before. For several months she 
 clearly understood that Murat’s wife purposely 
 wished to win the Governor of Paris as a polit¬ 
 ical personage. She saw that Caroline, to be 
 
 79 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 sure of him for her party should it suddenly 
 become necessary to elect the Emperor’s suc¬ 
 cessor, gave herself, her beauty, her womanli¬ 
 ness as the price of his support. But to-night! 
 . . . To-night she had seen, with her womanly 
 instinct, that Caroline also loved Junot. She 
 saw that now—for to-night at least—he was her 
 master. 
 
 Laurette had known Caroline Bonaparte for 
 years; and when she saw her smile with half- 
 closed eyes, as she rested on Junot’s arms during 
 the waltz, she knew she would obey him in 
 everything. Laurette also knew the power which 
 a woman who really loves has over a man, and 
 she now feared that she might lose him. 
 
 The kind Julia, the Queen of Naples, grasped 
 her hand and pressed it several times in sym¬ 
 pathy. Ah, she also had had experience, and 
 understood perfectly what was happening ! 
 
 '‘You look so pale, little Laurette—come with 
 me into the boudoir. You—in your condition— 
 you have become dizzy with watching these 
 whirling dancers—come ! ” 
 
 The Queen put her arm in Laurette’s, and led 
 her to the other room. Laurette heard them 
 call for orange-blossom water, so she swallowed 
 
 80 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 some of it when they put it to her lips. She 
 had a certain unpleasant, humble feeling that 
 these kind dames pitied her, so her pride roused 
 her to conquer her weakness. 
 
 By summoning all her strong will she arose 
 and said, smilingly: 
 
 ^‘This is really too comical! First, the Grand 
 Duchess faints, and then I must faint too, to 
 keep her company. Her Majesty is kept as 
 busy on her birthday as a Sister of Charity ! ” 
 
 At the moment she arose to order her car¬ 
 riage, Princess Caroline entered the room. 
 
 “But we cannot possibly let her go alone, 
 the sweet Laurette,” she said, as she turned to 
 her sister-in-law. “Wait a moment until I go 
 home, then you can ride in my carriage; it is 
 easy and roomy. Is it not better, Junot,” she 
 turned to the General, who was just entering 
 the room, “that you both ride home with 
 me? ” 
 
 Junot was a little in doubt at this, and bent 
 inquiringly over his wife. 
 
 “Your Imperial Highness is too kind, but. . . 
 well, what do you say, Laurette ? ” 
 
 The Governor’s wife looked up at him. Over 
 her pale face there glided, like a reflection, that 
 
 81 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ironical smile of hers that served her so well as 
 a defensive mask. 
 
 ‘' I say, with you, ‘ Her Highness is much too 
 kind’; let us say ^Thanks.’ ” Then, after a mo¬ 
 ment’s pause, in which she got herself well in 
 hand, in spite of many objections, she persisted 
 in her wish to go. “This is only a little dizzi¬ 
 ness—it is over now,” she said, as she looked 
 around. ‘ ‘ I suppose you all think that the lit¬ 
 tle one will arrive in the world on the road 
 between Eueil and Paris. In that case, I hope 
 that your Majesty will once more honor us by 
 being godmother.” 
 
 The ladies laughed aloud, and began to whis¬ 
 per and tell birth stories, of which they knew 
 some peculiar ones, that they had heard from 
 Madame Frangeau and Doctor Baudelocque. 
 Out in the gallery the dancing was continued. 
 
 At last Madame Junot was seated in the Grand 
 Duchess’ elaborate equipage. She sat on the 
 front seat, at the side of Caroline and opposite 
 her lady in attendance. Mademoiselle—or, rather, 
 Madame la Grange, as she had a right to be 
 called, on account of her age and special circum¬ 
 stances. Opposite the Princess sat Junot. Though 
 the night was quite cool, her Highness constantly 
 
 82 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 complained of the heat. She pulled the shawl 
 from her bare shoulders in a playful, obstinate 
 fashion, so that Junot was obliged, one time after 
 another, to lay it around her with tender author¬ 
 ity, while she sat and fanned herself. 
 
 Suddenly it looked as though Caroline’s indis¬ 
 position of the morning would repeat itself. She 
 interrupted the conversation with a little scream 
 and fell back with her hand on her heart. Junot 
 quickly opened the carriage door. In the light 
 of the carriage lanterns he saw the Princess’ pale 
 face resting against the silk cushion. Fright¬ 
 ened, he grasped her hands. 
 
 “Help me out,” she whispered, with closed 
 eyes. ‘ ‘ Let me walk!. . . A little fresh air!... ” 
 
 Junot almost lifted her in his arms from the 
 carriage. His wife, who had hitherto looked as 
 though she slept, turned her head and looked 
 after them. Madame la Grange made an at¬ 
 tempt to descend, but the Governor’s wife held 
 her back. 
 
 “I beg of you, madame, to remain! Some 
 one must remain to protect the royal dignity.” 
 
 “You are right; but the poor Duchess . . . 
 such a nervous attack! ’ ’ And Madame la Grange 
 sat down again—utterly at a loss. 
 
 83 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 After a quarter of an hour or so Junot re¬ 
 turned, the Pi'iucess leaning heavily upon his 
 arm. She was still pale, but her eyes beamed in 
 the light of the torches which the lackies held 
 outside the carriage door. When she took her 
 seat again at the side of Madame Junot, she 
 slii)ped her arm caressingly around her waist. 
 
 Were you frightened, little Laurette? . . 
 
 Madame Junot smiled; she was even paler than 
 the Princess, She shook her head, and said, in 
 a respectful tone: 
 
 ‘^Of course, I am very sorry that your High¬ 
 ness should be taken so unawares by this—at¬ 
 tack; but as my husband was with you, I knew 
 that nothing alarming could happen—especially 
 on an evening promenade along a country road.’’ 
 
 It was three o’clock when the carriage at last 
 stopped at the Elys4e. The Governor of Paris 
 offered his hand to the Princess to escort her to 
 her apartment. His coachman was ordered to 
 wait. But Madame Junot was driven home in 
 the Grand Duchess’ carriage—alone. 
 
 84 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 VII 
 
 La seule difference entre eux et tnoi, 
 c’est qu’ils sent des descendants, et que 
 moi — je suis un ancetre. 
 
 Mot du General Junot 
 (rappo»'te par Mme. de Remusat). 
 
 HEN Madame Junot established her elab¬ 
 orate household for the winter in the 
 palace iu the Champs-^^lysees, she nat¬ 
 urally had had many calls to pay and to receive. 
 Some of her experiences away from home have 
 been related, and in the meantime everything 
 in her own home went on as usual. Every morn¬ 
 ing after breakfast she received her daily visitors 
 —Count Louis de Narboune, Madame de Zayon- 
 scheck, and a few others of her most intimate 
 friends. Every evening, as the Governor’s wife, 
 she kept open house, where there would be 
 found, besides friends and acquaintances, nearly 
 all of the foreigners of note who were spending 
 the winter in Paris—German noblemen, Dutch 
 magnates, Polish gentlemen, Italians, Spaniards, 
 
 85 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 and always tlie Portuguese, who still called 
 Madame Juiiot their Ambassadress.” Be¬ 
 sides, there was one special day in the week for 
 Juuot’s card club—the same club that used to 
 gather at Talleyrand’s—and another for the more 
 official reception, where the officers of the gar¬ 
 rison and the dignitaries of the city, with their 
 ladies, paid their respects to the Governor’s wife 
 in a never-ending procession. 
 
 Hospitality had become so habitual to Madame 
 Junot that its demands did not bother her at all— 
 not even under present circumstances. She was 
 by nature a grande dame, and, by force of cir¬ 
 cumstances, she was pushed to the front of this 
 noisy, ever-changing cosmopolitan society which 
 had now begun in Paris. Under the kings, Paris 
 had been but a provincial town in comparison 
 with what it had developed into under the Con¬ 
 sulate and the Empire. Paris was then the cen¬ 
 ter of France, and France was the center of the 
 world. 
 
 The Emperor wished everybody to be gay, 
 although he and his staff were thankful for a 
 bivouac in Osterode, or for a wooden house in 
 Finkenstein. Whatever happened, he expected 
 Paris to “astonish Europe,” and Madame Ju- 
 
 86 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 not knew that his Majesty counted upon her to 
 carry out the social functions on a scale ‘ ‘ worthy 
 or his good city, Paris.” 
 
 As “Turkomania ” was now the only redeem¬ 
 ing thing in the current fashion, thanks to the 
 Emperor’s alliance with Sultan Selim, she did not 
 leave her divan on the grand reception nights, 
 but arranged it as an Oriental ottoman with 
 many-colored silk cushions and a couvre-pied of 
 gold lace. There she reclined evening after 
 evening, her open silk jacket thrown over a 
 loose India linen blouse. On her head was the 
 inevitable turban, around which were twisted 
 ropes of pearls—a real Queen of the Harem, but 
 d la frangaise. 
 
 It was an evening in June; it was stifling hot 
 in the large salon, with its colossal chandeliers, 
 lighted candelabras, and wall-lamps. The win¬ 
 dows opened on the Champs-^^lysees; the mild 
 evening air streamed in, ladeued with the per- 
 fiune of the linden-tree that bloomed in the 
 court. 
 
 Several of the guests had already withdrawn 
 on account of the lateness of the hour; but Car¬ 
 dinal Maury and a few ladies—among whom was 
 Madame Launes—sat around the divan. They 
 
 87 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 were still playing cards at a couple of tables 
 in the adjoining salon. The Grand Duchess of 
 Berg and Oleve was just finishing a game of 
 whist with the Governor of Paris, Duke Au- 
 busson de la Feullade, and Count de Narbonne. 
 Through the door could be seen the Princess’ 
 magnificent bust and the bowed heads of the 
 gentlemen as they deftly handled their cards; 
 their large, three-cornered hats were closely held 
 under their arms. Once more the door was 
 opened widely as the lackey announced, with 
 loud voice: 
 
 ^^His Highness the Prince Archchancellor !” 
 
 Cambac6res stepped in. He looked exactly 
 as he did when he voted for the King’s death, 
 and as he did at Malmaison, when he dined 
 outdoors with the First Consul, midst a deal 
 of joking and good humor. His long face was 
 just as serious as ever, and his long nose just as 
 solemnly melancholy; his long chin buried 
 itself with the same dignity in the lace cravat; 
 he still powdered his hair and wore the silk 
 waistcoat with embroidery, common at the time 
 of the Directorate. He looked exactly like an 
 official from one of the provinces. 
 
 He walked solemnly up to Madame Junot, 
 
 88 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 who tried to rise, and said, in his slow, drawling 
 voice: 
 
 “ I beg you, madame, remain where you are.” 
 
 He bent down and kissed her on both cheeks. 
 Then the other guests courteously made room for 
 his Highness, so that he might sit in a low chair 
 at the side of the divan. He graciously accepted 
 the pinch of snuff which Cardinal Maury offered 
 him, and as he slowly lifted his fingers to his nose 
 with a certain grace, he said, in his same slow 
 way: 
 
 I have great news for you, madame.” 
 
 “Ah, your Highness, let me hear it right 
 away ! His Eminence has not been able to think 
 of anything new for the last half hour.” 
 
 “ It has pleased his Majesty to create a new 
 dignity and rank for his faithful warriors. He 
 has decided to confer the order of Duke.” 
 
 “On whom ? ’ ’ exclaimed all the ladies at once. 
 
 Cambaceres sat with his hands on his stomach 
 and twirled his thumbs. 
 
 “Yes; now guess!” said he, phlegmatically. 
 
 “Marshal Lannes, of course !” said Madame 
 Junot, as she congratulatingly stretched her hand 
 out to Madame Lannes. 
 
 “No; that would be much too easy—a child 
 
 89 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 could guess that! No; his Majesty has made it 
 more complicated. ’ ’ 
 
 ‘ ‘ But who in the world . . . Mass4na ? . . . 
 Duroc? . • 
 
 The Archchancellor shook his head. “Will 
 no one ever guess it? ” He looked around tri¬ 
 umphantly. “Lefebvre! He is now the Duke 
 of Danzig.” 
 
 Every one seemed surprised, and then they all 
 burst out laughing. Even Cambac4res laughed, 
 and the card-players, stopping their game and 
 coming to the door, joined in the merriment. 
 
 At that moment the double doors were opened 
 again. 
 
 “Madame, the Marshalin Lefebvre!” an¬ 
 nounced the lackey. 
 
 The lady measured the servant severely with 
 her eyes as she passed him, her fat, red face 
 rounder than usual, and her elbows well out, as 
 though her arms were wings with which she were 
 going to fly. 
 
 This time Madame Junot arose and took a 
 few steps to meet the Marshalin, saying, with a 
 smile: 
 
 “May I be permitted to greet the Duchess of 
 Danzig ? ’ ’ 
 
 90 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 The new Duchess blinked at the Governor’s 
 wife without answering; then, turning trium¬ 
 phantly to the forgetful lackey, who still held 
 the door open, she glared at him: 
 
 ‘'There now, my boy, don’t you feel ashamed 
 of yourself I ” 
 
 At this sally—scarcely unexpected, for it was 
 always the unexpected that happened whenever 
 Madame Sans-Gene appeared in public—at this 
 sally a loud ijeal of laughter from the lips of all 
 rang through the salon. Madame Junot laughed 
 until the tears ran from her eyes, and, without 
 asking the new Duchess to be seated, she threw 
 herself on the divan, convulsed with laughter. 
 
 When the laughter seemed about to stop, and 
 all were busy drying their eyes, a suppressed 
 giggle or a mere glance was enough to cause it 
 to break out again. They laughed that night at 
 the Governor’s so that the echoes were heard all 
 over the Champs-Ely sees. Madame Lefebvre 
 was flattered by this gaiety, which she never 
 failed to provoke; for she settled down in an 
 easy-chair which Junot had pushed toward her, 
 and laughed just as heartily as the rest. 
 
 Siiddenly a scream of pain cut through the 
 laughter. Madame Junot tried to rise, tottered, 
 
 91 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 and would have fallen had not her husband 
 caught her. 
 
 That was the end of the laughter, and the 
 ladies looked anxiously at each other. 
 
 “ Certainly—that was it! ” 
 
 ‘ ^ Send for Marchais and Baudelocque at once, ’ ’ 
 commanded the Grand Duchess of Berg, as she 
 vigorously pulled the bell-rope with her own 
 hand. 
 
 “1 assure your Imperial Highness,” mur¬ 
 mured Madame Junot, with a gesture, “it is 
 over now. ...” 
 
 Count Louis de Narbonne quickly filled a glass 
 with deep red Burgundy from one of the decan¬ 
 ters standing on a table. 
 
 “Drink, Madame la gouvernante! If you 
 never drank wine before, you must bid Junot’s 
 oldest son welcome to his home ! ” 
 
 Madame Junot smilingly took the glass, which 
 glittered like a ruby in the light, and, lifting it 
 to her lips, gave it to her husband, who drained 
 it in one draught. When she lifted her eyes 
 again to his, she found them fastened upon her 
 with fond emotion. 
 
 “Hurry up, Madame Junot !” said Madame 
 Lefebvre, quietly, in her drawling tone, and in a 
 
 92 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 dialect that always called forth a smile. ‘ ‘ Hurry 
 up, so that Cardinal Maury can come right in 
 and baptize the boy—there are enough of us 
 here for witnesses.” 
 
 Good humor reigned again, and laughter went 
 the rounds of the little company. Junot beamed 
 with delight, but he scarcely took his eyes from 
 his wife. Suddenly she clutched his arm con¬ 
 vulsively. 
 
 ‘‘It’s an impatient youngster, Junot,” ejacu¬ 
 lated Madame Lefebvre. “He is going to look 
 like his father.” 
 
 “Ah, but his mother is not known for her 
 patience ! ” exclaimed Cardinal Maury. 
 
 Junot, almost carrying his wife to her room, 
 quite forgot, in his great anxiety, even to offer to 
 escort the Grand Duchess to her carriage. Caro¬ 
 line, without seeming hurt, took the hand of 
 Count de Harbonne, and allowed him to lead 
 her forth, followed by his Highness the Arch¬ 
 chancellor and Madame Lannes. But the rest 
 of the company, not being so inclined, returned 
 to cheer the anxious Junot, who was anything 
 but heroic while witnessing the sufferings of his 
 wife. 
 
 Madame Lefebvre, a clever and experienced 
 
 93 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 woman, did all she could to reassure him, and 
 said: 
 
 ‘‘Now, look here, General! Be patient! 
 Don’t hang over her in that manner! You 
 quite unnerve the poor child, and make her un¬ 
 equal to her task. ’ ’ And with her strong red 
 hands the Duchess of Danzig took him by the 
 shoulders and pushed him out of the room. 
 “ Now look after him,” she called to the adju¬ 
 tants and to Count de Narbonne, who had just 
 come in, “and don’t mix in our affairs; for the 
 work that has to be done here requires none but 
 women! ” 
 
 The newly made Duchess, removing her man¬ 
 tle, said to Marchais, as he entered the room : 
 
 ‘ ‘ Monsieur Marchais, what can you do for her ? 
 Poor little dear! You understand—the first 
 boy—is a bad case.” 
 
 “Let her get up and kiss all four bedposts 
 while she thinks of the Holy Virgin; that scat¬ 
 ters the pains,” suggested one of the ladies. 
 
 “Goodness, how could you think of letting 
 her get up ! That would mean sure death for the 
 child!” exclaimed another. “No, she shall 
 have a rosary under her head; that is the only 
 thing which helps.” 
 
 94 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 The surgeon, Marchais, a little fellow with a 
 large white apron over his knee-breeches, a huge 
 diamond pin on his breast, and large, round 
 glasses that kept slipping to the point of his 
 nose, called, with loud voice: 
 
 “My ladies ! my ladies ! You must either go 
 or keep still; and as I consider the latter an 
 absolute impossibility, then ...” He opened 
 the door for them to retire. 
 
 “Yes, let us go!” said Madame Lefebvre, 
 appreciating the situation, and snatching up her 
 court mantle. 
 
 “I believe it will be twins, Junot,” she said, 
 knowingly, as she bade him good-night in the 
 salon. “Now, brace up! Think how pleased 
 the Emperor will be.” 
 
 The bedroom, though lighted by many can¬ 
 dles, was dull and dark in its massiveness. On 
 the high, broad bed Madame Junot lay like one 
 dead—pale and immovable. To Junot, now en¬ 
 tering the room and catching a glimpse of her 
 there—so still, so white in the gleam of the can¬ 
 dles—the sight was unbearable. A bitter cry of 
 anguish rose to his lips as he fell on his knees 
 beside the bed where lay the delicate form he 
 loved so well. 
 
 95 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 She opened her eyes and met his for only an 
 instant. 
 
 “If the pains would only come in earnest, I 
 assure you that within half an hour you would 
 hold the child in your arms,” said the surgeon, 
 taking the Governor by the arm and leading him 
 from the room. 
 
 Through the corridors and up and down the 
 stairs the servants were hurrying, intent on 
 their errands; the lights burned brightly every¬ 
 where in the palace; and in the dressing-room 
 Madame Lallemand was busy gathering together 
 an infant’s outfit, while messengers were search¬ 
 ing Paris for Dr. Baudelocque. 
 
 Suddenly there rang in the ears of all a long- 
 drawn, agonizing scream—the peculiar scream 
 of pain and anguish which escapes from a wo¬ 
 man’s lips only at the moment of birth . . . 
 Then, at last, came the first faint cry of the young 
 heir, and the adjutant who was stationed at 
 the door announced: 
 
 “ Monseigneur has a son ! ” 
 
 When Junot, pale and worn, was permitted 
 to enter the sacred presence, his eyes first sought 
 his wife who lay exhausted, like a frightened 
 
 96 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 dove, but iu whose face shone all the glory of 
 motherhood, with a beauty that drew from him 
 the deepest reverence of his heart. 
 
 Their eyes met over the little head, so wrinkled 
 and pink, that nestled on her bosom, and they 
 both knew and understood at that moment that 
 in spite of all missteps, misunderstandings, and 
 troubles, they loved each other with the love 
 that never dies; that for them there were no 
 other ties in all the world in comparison to the 
 strong, fresh, youthful love that there united 
 them. She smiled at him, and there was a 
 secret, jubilant victory in her smile that he 
 alone understood. 
 
 Cardinal Maury and Count Louis de Narbonne, 
 who had been patiently waiting in the salon, 
 now discreetly presented themselves at the door, 
 and, at a faint nod from the young mother, they 
 entered the room. At the same time Junot, 
 quite beside himself with joy, said: 
 
 ‘‘May I introduce to you the Emperor’s god¬ 
 son, my little Napoleon?” lifting the child high 
 up in the air. “And you, my son, may I intro¬ 
 duce to you the holy Gallican Church, and in 
 this other gentleman the legitimate aristocracy 
 of your country % Ha !—‘legitimate ’—he is as 
 
 97 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 legitimate as any one—any one of the second 
 generation after the Eevolution or the Empire. 
 Think of it, my dear Narbonne, as aristocrats 
 the only difference between you and me is this: 
 you are the scion, but I—I am the sire ! ” 
 
 98 
 
VIII 
 
 C’est aujourd’hui I’anniversaire de 
 Marengo I C’est uu jour heureux pour 
 nous. 
 
 NapolSon (en route pour Friedland). 
 
 Car je me regarde comme Thomme 
 le plus audacieux en guerre qui peutetre 
 ait jamais exists. 
 
 NAPOLfioN (a Ste Heiane). 
 
 FTEK the battle at Eylau, iu th 3 autumn 
 of 1806, Napoleon spent the winter in 
 recruiting and reorganizing his army, 
 and he was now waiting only for good weather 
 to begin the campaign again. 
 
 Junot now studied more eagerly than ever the 
 large wall-maps that illustrated the seat of war 
 for him on the walls of his room. With whole 
 regiments of different colored pins he marked 
 the positions of the opposing armies. Over 
 these he pored for hours, and he never tired of 
 explaining to his wife the many combinations 
 and movements that were made. 
 
 With the certainty of an experienced and in¬ 
 telligent soldier, he warmly praised Napoleon’s 
 preeminent skill. For instance, the Emperor 
 had just chosen his winter position at Passarge, 
 
 09 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 from which he was easily able to protect that 
 part of his forces engaged in the siege of Danzig, 
 as well as to ward off from himself those who 
 were waiting for a good opportunity to fall upon 
 him. At the same time, he was so placed that 
 he could get the benefit of the great resources of 
 conquered Germany. 
 
 Junot wished his wife to understand thor¬ 
 oughly what a stroke of genius this move was— 
 to maintain an army of two hundred thousand 
 men unmolested through the winter in the ene¬ 
 my’s country. 
 
 ‘ ‘ He has taught even his enemies to respect 
 him!” he exclaimed. “On the banks of the 
 Weichsel his soldiers are bivouacing as securely 
 as though they lay along the Seine or Ehone, 
 and that with four powers declared against them I 
 From his barracks among the snowbanks of 
 Poland the Emperor is ruling his widespread 
 kingdom quite as efficiently as he could from his 
 executive chamber in the Tuileries. You see, 
 Laurette, that which is now going on in Poland 
 is exceptional in the world’s history. . . .” 
 And with deep chagrin that he could not be 
 with Napoleon, he pushed his charts away. 
 
 This feeling deepened with the advance of 
 lOU 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 spring; and after the fall of Danzig, toward the 
 end of May, it was plain to the Governor of 
 Paris—as, in fact, to all who were versed in mil¬ 
 itary matters—that the decisive moment of the 
 war was near at hand. 
 
 When Madame Junot awoke early one morn¬ 
 ing in June, and saw the sun shining from a 
 clear, blue sky, she longed for the peace and 
 quiet of the country, for the woods of Eaincy, 
 and for the roses that she knew were blooming on 
 the terrace at Eaincy. At first, however, it was 
 her intention to take merely a short morning 
 drive, for the fine mist that always foretold a 
 warm day was slowly rising over Paris, still 
 drowsy in the early morning light. But the 
 thought of Eaincy bewitched her, and its magic 
 drew her on. So, ordering her carriage, she 
 was away. 
 
 It was real summer now. The fresh morning 
 air was balm to her weary senses, and the 
 straight old trees welcomed her to Eaincy with 
 their branches spread protectingly over her. 
 The smooth lawn stretched temptingly away 
 under the trees, until it lost itself like a cloud in 
 the blue line of the forest. 
 
 101 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 For the first time in many days Madame Junot 
 felt rested—indifferent to everything around 
 her. She felt, too, the luxury of being alone— 
 the pleasui’es of solitude without one touch of 
 loneliness. For once she was glad to be free 
 from the company with which she was wont to 
 surround herself, and happy in idly basking 
 there all day in the sun and shade of Eaincy. 
 Her book fell from her lap and lay unnoticed in 
 the grass, although it was Madame de Stael’s 
 new romance, ^‘Oorinne.’’ 
 
 At last her attention was roused by the sound 
 of horses’ hoofs, and, rising slightly, she listened, 
 and then she heard the clink of spurs on the 
 stone stairs that led to the terrace. When she 
 had taken a few steps in that direction, she met 
 her husband in his General’s uniform, with the 
 hussar dolman over his shoulders, coming 
 quickly toward her down the broad stairs. He 
 frantically waved the paper he held in his hand. 
 
 “You are a pretty runaway! And to-day 
 you have made me ride in a flying gallop from 
 Paris to Eaincy, only because I was afraid that 
 some one might get ahead of me and tell you the 
 great news. Guess what it is ! ” 
 
 “It is easy enough to guess,” she answered, 
 
 102 
 
The Governor's Wife 
 
 happily, and with great assurance. ‘^The Em¬ 
 peror, of course, has won another victory. ’ ’ 
 
 “Certainly ! ” he said, ironically. “You are 
 so spoiled, you Parisian ladies, who sleep in silk 
 beds and take the victories of the army along 
 with your morning chocolate as a personal trib¬ 
 ute to your superiority. Not one of you, on the 
 other hand, has ever given a moment’s thought 
 to the effort, money, and blood that are expended 
 upon the single word, ^Victory.’ You don’t 
 realize what it costs ! ” And he went on, in his 
 impetuous, warm-hearted way, loyally ui^hold- 
 ing another’s fame, and winning from his w'ife 
 the warmest love and admiration, not for the 
 Emperor, but for himself. 
 
 She laughed and leaned lightly with both 
 hands against his breast. 
 
 “ But can’t you see I am dying with impa¬ 
 tience to hear the news ! Why blame me for 
 having such confidence in the army and such 
 faith in the Emperor ? We have been taught to 
 expect everything from them, and I am sure 
 they have done something splendid this time.” 
 
 “You are right; they won a splendid victory 
 at Friedland, on the 14th of June.” 
 
 Laurette threw her arms about his neck. ^ ‘ The 
 
 103 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 14th of June, you say ? That must be Napoleon’s 
 lucky day! Do you remember Marengo, seven 
 years ago?” 
 
 “I, too, thought of that immediately.” And 
 his expressive face grew dark and stern. “That 
 was another field where I was not permitted 
 to be.” 
 
 “Ah, my dear” (she looked earnestly into 
 his eyes), “why do you always embitter every 
 message of victory with this complaint? You 
 know that the Emperor thinks you serve him 
 better here. He has chosen you among them all 
 to watch over the apple of his eye, his Paris. 
 Do you think that he would have entrusted this 
 to Bernadotte, for instance ? ’ ’ 
 
 Junot laughed. “By the way, you should 
 accustom yourself to saying the Prince of Ponto- 
 Carvo. But I feel I am not old enough to sit 
 at home with ^ responsibilities ’ while the others 
 are fighting for honor; they are now all men¬ 
 tioned in the Emperor’s bulletins. But I—I 
 shall be forgotten by the army ! And the staff 
 with the golden eagle ! Laurette, do you believe 
 that can be won on the streets of Paris?” 
 
 “One can be just as happy and just as great 
 without being a Marshal.” 
 
 104 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 He turned impatiently and let her arms drop. 
 
 “No, I cannot,” he said, “I cannot.” 
 
 Laurette sighed and thoughtfully resumed her 
 seat, vaguely watching a gay butterfly as it 
 danced in the sunlight, while he walked up and 
 down the terrace. Then, at length, stopping in 
 front of her, he bent down over her, saying: 
 
 “What are you thinking of?” 
 
 Without raising her eyes to his, she answered, 
 dreamily: 
 
 “I am wondering if the Emperor has really 
 done right in . . .” 
 
 “What? . . .” 
 
 “Oh, nothing! It was an idle thought that 
 came into my head. Do you think that I would 
 criticize the Emperor ? ’ ’ 
 
 “Yes, he knows that you would, and without 
 a bit of hesitation.” 
 
 Beyond the Niemen, at Tilsit, the last bulwark 
 of holy Eussia, the young Czar Alexander was 
 the guest of the conqueror. Just as the proud 
 Francis II. had come to Napoleon’s bivouac in 
 Urschitz, so now the young Czar and the King 
 of Prussia sought him at Tilsit to beg for peace. 
 
 On the other hand, Napoleon stood there, in- 
 
 106 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 toxicated by his success, with the whole world 
 crawling at his feet, and with Europe appar¬ 
 ently ripe for the Western empire—that dream 
 of his which he hoped at last to realize; that 
 daring fancy of his mind which he would now 
 write large on the page of authentic history. 
 
 There, at the gates of the East, stood Napo¬ 
 leon, in the robe of Charlemagne, and with a 
 scepter that guided the fate of the people of the 
 world. At his nod Europe bent the knee and 
 wreathed his brow with the laurels of Ciesar, 
 proudly conscious that Fate had honored them 
 as a people by permitting them to honor her 
 dearest child. 
 
 There, at the gate of the East, stood an army 
 supporting Napoleon with a courage and a dar¬ 
 ing equal to his own, its strength and devotion 
 unparalleled since the days of Mohammed. They 
 had learned a new religion—the religion of 
 honor, patriotism, and personal ambition. The 
 enthusiasm for the new faith went to the heads 
 of the converts like new wine, and they were 
 already intoxicated by their own fame and too 
 keen a sense of their own power. 
 
 In the Eevolution the French had fought for 
 liberty and equality; but they had tired of both 
 106 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 as soon as they had won them, for they did not 
 know how to use them. In place of liberty, 
 Napoleon set up honor and power as the rewards 
 for successful effort. From the first he used suc¬ 
 cessfully these two spurs to stimulate his army 
 and then his country to deeds of valor. Eleven 
 years before, from the snow-clad peaks of the 
 Apennines, he pointed out for his hungry sol¬ 
 diers the rich cities of Lombardy, its meadows 
 and billowy fields of ripening grain, and the ter¬ 
 raced vineyards that led, as it were, by steps to 
 the heights of fame, with grapes and wine for 
 the bravest. 
 
 Now he showed them the golden steps in the 
 ladder of rank and position: the title of Duke, 
 the Marshal’s staff, the King’s crown, the great 
 eagle of the Legion of Honor; and in the souls of 
 these thousands of men he awoke an all-consum¬ 
 ing ambition which, guided by his hand, and 
 sensitive to every pressure, should make his own 
 success. He was not afraid to awaken the egot¬ 
 ism of his men and their envy of each other, for 
 he felt himself strong enough to control them, 
 to show them their goal, and to limit and use 
 their power to further his own plans. He tried 
 his power, he tempted his fortune, he stretched 
 
 107 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 the bow to the utmost — and, see! it did not 
 break! 
 
 In Paris they scarcely spoke of anything be¬ 
 side the Emperor’s friendship for young Alex¬ 
 ander; about the newly won victory over the 
 Eussian army at Friedland; about the King of 
 Prussia, whose whole kingdom Napoleon could 
 have taken, but of which he graciously allowed 
 him half; about the new crown with which the 
 Emperor would reward his third brother; about 
 the restored freedom of Poland; about the plead¬ 
 ings and sorrows of the beautiful Queen Louise. 
 Enthusiastic announcements ! fablelike plans ! 
 piquante anecdotes!—ah, there was enough to 
 talk about! 
 
 On the 27th of July, 1807, Paris was awak¬ 
 ened by cannon salutes from the Hotel des Inva- 
 lides. Then they knew that the Emperor had 
 reached home. 
 
 108 
 
IX 
 
 II est facile de voir, comment il 6tait au 
 pouvoir de Napolfiou de bouleverser cette 
 ame noble et genereuse et surtout de- 
 vou6e fl,lui. 
 
 Mme. JuNOT (de son mari). 
 
 Je prouverai au peuple frau^ais, que 
 moi seul, je suis fait pour gouverner, 
 decider et punir. 
 
 Mot de NapolSon. 
 
 HE Governor of Paris at once re¬ 
 quested a private interview with liis 
 Majesty, for the cold glance and formal 
 bearing with which his “ idol ” had received him 
 in the forenoon cut him to the quick, embittered 
 every thought, and gave him not a moment’s 
 peace. His request was as quickly granted, and 
 the meeting was appointed for the same evening 
 between eight and nine. 
 
 In his impatience Junot came earlier than the 
 appointed time, fairly flying up the steps, and 
 scarcely noticing the salute of the guard and the 
 pages as he passed through the salle des gardes. 
 In the salon de service only four officers were on 
 duty: the Adjutant, the Chamberlain, the Mas- 
 
 109 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ter of Horse, and the Palace Pr^fet, for it was 
 quite unusual for the Emperor to receive at such 
 a time. While Junot was waiting for the sum¬ 
 mons from the Emperor, he forced himself to 
 speak a few words to the gentlemen present; hut 
 giving this up, he soon began to pace the floor. 
 A quarter of an hour passed, then another, and 
 still he was not admitted. It was known that 
 the Emperor was at work this evening with the 
 Librarian of the Foreign Department, Monsieur 
 de la Nautte-Hautevive, and it was evident that 
 he had much to do. 
 
 Out of humor over the long wait, the Governor 
 of Paris seated himself at last in one of the big 
 red chairs in front of the fireplace, staring hope¬ 
 lessly at the ceiling. The familiar room, with 
 its few pieces of furniture, was but faintly 
 lighted. Solemn landscapes, grown black with 
 age, hung on the dimly lighted walls, and every¬ 
 where through that part of the palace were scat¬ 
 tered pictures of Marie Th6rese, who was often 
 portrayed as Minerva surrounded by the Graces. 
 
 Junot knew these apartments as well as he 
 knew his own. How often during the glorious 
 days of the Consulate had he wandered arm in 
 arm with Napoleon through those spacious 
 110 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 rooms! Would Napoleon forget him now? 
 Could he forget his old companion in arms? 
 Alas ! the Emperor had spoiled him, and had 
 made him believe that they were close friends in 
 spite of the purple and the crown—the same 
 friends they had been at Toulon, and in Italy, 
 and in Egypt. And now . . . 
 
 Junot covered his eyes with his hand to shut 
 out the vision of that cold, strange glance from 
 a comrade’s eyes, and of his haughty demeanor. 
 The memory of it was like a nightmare—some 
 hideous phantasm. 
 
 At last the guard opened the door of the Em¬ 
 peror’s salon and announced the Governor of 
 Paris, who entered in dress uniform, spurs at his 
 heels, and with his hat under his arm. Ah, how 
 long since the two had shared meals and bed, 
 and had strolled arm in arm through the Jardin 
 des Plants ! 
 
 The Emperor dropped his paper, a copy of 
 Le Monitcur, and looked long and sternly at 
 Junot from his easy-chair near the window. 
 Then, pulling at his vest and blowing a few 
 specks of dust from the lapels of his coat, he 
 stood without speaking. 
 
 “Sire!” cried Junot, impetuously, drawing 
 
 111 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 nearer, and no longer able to endure this cold de¬ 
 meanor and crushing silence. ‘ ‘ Your Majesty ! ’ ’ 
 he almost entreated; and then he stopped. 
 
 ‘‘Yes, Monsieur Junot, it is time we two came 
 to an understanding and spoke plainly,” said 
 Napoleon, stepping to his desk, and, after some 
 searching, drawing forth a paper which he 
 hastily perused. “ It is a surprise to me, Junot, 
 and quite inexplicable, that you could betray 
 the confidence of your friend and sovereign to 
 the extent revealed by this paper. What is the 
 meaning of this?” And with an impatient 
 gesture he threw the paper down and turned 
 away. 
 
 “I can understand,” answered Junot, point¬ 
 ing with disdain to the paper—“I can under¬ 
 stand now what it is that your Majesty charges 
 me with. I recognize the handwriting and the 
 form of a report. And from such a source and 
 with such evidence you judge your oldest friend 
 and also your own sister ! ” 
 
 “Be still, yoii hothead! No one may men¬ 
 tion names here. I can see plainly enough that 
 you have a bad conscience.” 
 
 ‘ ‘ A bad conscience in regard to you and your 
 wishes you have never seen in me, Sire,” an- 
 
 112 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 swered Junot, firmly. “So you cannot possibly 
 kuow how I look under circumstances which 
 have never existed.” 
 
 “You, too, whom I have trusted as I would 
 myself these fifteen years! ” continued Napoleon 
 without listening, as he dropped into a chair 
 and tapped its arm emphatically with his snuff¬ 
 box. Then suddenly lifting his head he said, 
 angrily: 
 
 “And not even a little caution—one would 
 think yoxr were a begfnner! At two o’clock in 
 the morning your carriage is seen at the Elys6e; 
 the Grand Duchess plays whist at your house, 
 and is there early and late; she drives to the 
 opera in your carriage, sits in your box ... It 
 really looks as though she did not have the 
 slightest conception of what is becoming to a 
 Princess! ” 
 
 “Her Imperial Highness has always been 
 an intimate friend of my wife,” said Junot, 
 meekly. 
 
 “Those were other times, other customs! 
 Does Madame Junot allow herself to be used 
 as a plaything in this comedy? I understand 
 her but poorly if she allows herself to be duped 
 either by you or Caroline! ” 
 
 113 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Junot took a step toward the Emperor, and 
 instinctively placed his hand upon his sword. 
 
 “Your Majesty, do you remember at Mar¬ 
 seilles, when I was in love with Princess Pauline, 
 that I did not think life worth living after you 
 refused me her ? How did I behave then? . . . 
 Did I make any attempt to disobey your will at 
 . . . It might, perhaps, have been easier then! 
 Did I act like a man of honor. Sire, or did I 
 not ?’ ’ 
 
 “ Bah ! said the Emperor, “ that was a differ¬ 
 ent matter! A young girl cannot be named in 
 the same breath with a married woman. You 
 know that as well as I—yes, better. A pretty 
 mess if this report had fallen into the hands of 
 her husband, and noble consequences for you ! ’ ’ 
 
 “If Murat is offended,” said Junot, hotly, 
 “he knows where he can find me. If his High¬ 
 ness feels offended—and I deny that he has the 
 slightest reason for offense—then ...” 
 
 ‘ ^ Great God ! That would make the scandal 
 complete! Are you crazy, Junot? You know 
 that I do not tolerate duels among my men. I 
 decide all difficulties. Murat knows nothing; he 
 will keep quiet, and you will leave Savary alone 
 for this report. He has but done his duty. I 
 
 114 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 have a right to know everything that happens 
 in Paris—and especially what my Governor is 
 doing.” 
 
 Junot was silent. The Emperor walked to 
 and fro, slightly bent forward in deep thought! 
 He then placed himself with his back toward the 
 fireplace, and turned to Junot. 
 
 ‘‘Can you honestly say that you did not sus¬ 
 pect what the little intriguer really wanted of 
 you? ” 
 
 Junot was shocked. His face reddened, and 
 involuntarily he threw his head back as he met 
 the Emperor’s glance. 
 
 “ I don’t know what your Majesty means.” 
 
 “Then all Paris knows more than its Gov¬ 
 ernor. I am sure that every cavalier in Paris 
 could answer my question. I know Caroline— 
 she is more ambitious than all her brothers com¬ 
 bined. And you have not discovered that? . . .” 
 
 Junot remained silent. 
 
 “ Answer me, man! Defend yourself! Don’t 
 you understand what you are charged with ? ’ ’ 
 shouted Napoleon, angrily. 
 
 Junot lifted his large eyes, and closely ob¬ 
 served the Emperor. “No,” he said, proudly. 
 “The charge which I think you mean is so 
 
 115 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 impossible, so unreasonable, when it concerns 
 me, that I cannot believe that any person of 
 sound reason could have made it.” 
 
 “A man, and especially you, can do much to 
 win a woman, ’ ’ said the Emperor, more qnietly. 
 
 “ If an assurance is necessary between you and 
 me,” said Junot, bitterly, “then I here give you 
 my word of honor that there has never been a 
 word of politics spoken in the conversations 
 with which your sister has honored me. ’ ’ 
 
 They were both silent for a few seconds, the 
 Governor of Paris meeting with pride the pierc¬ 
 ing glance of the Emperor, who again snatched 
 the paper from the table. 
 
 ‘ ‘ But it is impossible, ’ ’ he said, impatiently, 
 half to himself. ‘ ‘ Savary has a fine nose, and 
 everything speaks that the plan . . .” He 
 glanced, with an uncertain, questioning look, at 
 Junot, who did not stir from the spot. 
 
 “Tell me all!” said Napoleon. 
 
 “Your Majesty, what I might say concerns 
 but me, and that I will not say.” 
 
 “You mean, then, that this was nothing but 
 a common love story which concerns nobody ? ’ ’ 
 Junot lifted his head proudly but remained 
 silent, while the Emperor drew slowly near him. 
 
 116 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Then he spoke eagerly: “Your Majesty, you 
 may take my life—it is yours by right; you may 
 deprive me of my sword and rank—I shall not 
 complain. But you can never make me break 
 what I consider the law of honor.” 
 
 ‘‘You have called me your best friend ...” 
 
 “ It was the pride of my life that you allowed 
 me to do so. ’ ’ 
 
 “ And now, for the sake of a stupid tradition 
 . . . Ah, you Frenchmen ! ” Napoleon turned 
 around and passed his fingers through his hair. 
 “I demand only that you shall honestly tell me 
 what has happened between you and Murat’s wife 
 —mark well that I say Murat’s wife, for Caroline 
 has shown that she is Murat’s wife rather than 
 my sister.” 
 
 Junot laid his hand upon his heart. “ I give 
 you my word of honor. I have nothing more 
 to say.” 
 
 Napoleon, looking sharply at him, shrugged 
 his shoulders, and strode thoughtfully up and 
 down the floor. 
 
 “I neither want your life nor your sword, 
 which you so romantically offer me; but . . . 
 There is another matter of which I wish to speak, 
 Junot. It will not do for one person to hold the 
 
 117 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 two important positions which you now occupy. 
 You are both Governor of Paris and my First 
 Adjutant. You may take your choice of these 
 posts, but the offices must be separated here¬ 
 after. ’ ’ 
 
 Junot, with emotion, straightening up and 
 looking proudly into the Emperor’s eyes, made 
 no answer. 
 
 “You understand,” continued the Emperor, 
 impatiently, ‘ ‘ that it will hereafter be impossible 
 for the Governor of Paris—the first commander 
 of the most important division of the army—to 
 go freely in and out of my tent, by day or night, 
 as my First Adjutant.” He stopped, and, 
 eying him closely, he continued in a louder 
 voice: “You cannot complain. I have given 
 you your choice.” 
 
 Junot was still very pale when he answered: 
 
 “The choice is soon made. I will never give 
 up—never give up—the post I filled for you at 
 Toulon, at Arcole, Lodi, and Castiglione, in 
 Egypt, and now, last of all, at Austerlitz. . . . 
 Never ! ” 
 
 “You don’t seem to count for anything the 
 fact that I made you Governor of Paris % ’ ’ 
 
 “Sire . . .”—Junot made a step toward him 
 
 118 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 —‘‘I have been as proud as a god at being the 
 Governor of Paris. I now formally resign my 
 post.’’ 
 
 ‘‘You are crazy, Junot!” shouted the Em¬ 
 peror, stamping upon the floor. “But I have 
 other things to do besides talking reason to 
 you. Go ! ” 
 
 General Junot bowed, as with downcast eyes, 
 but with a firm, proud carriage, he withdrew. 
 
 Napoleon once opened his lips as if to speak 
 and call him; but, with a shrug of the shoulder, 
 he suddenly faced about, walked quickly to his 
 room, and slammed the door. 
 
 119 
 
X 
 
 Je n’hesite pas un instant a, charger 
 cette malheureuse relation de mon mari 
 avec la reine de Naples de tons ses 
 malheurs et a la regarder comme cause 
 de sa mart. 
 
 Mme. JuNOT (Mem.) 
 
 o THE i^LYSEE!” Madame Junot or¬ 
 dered her carriage the next morning 
 after her husband’s interview with 
 the Emperor at the Tuileries. Though it was 
 early, the August day was already oppressively 
 warm, and within the carriage Madame Junot 
 leaned back with closed eyes and a sad, almost 
 pained, look upon her face. Her light shawl 
 had slid from its place, revealing her beautiful 
 arms and shoulders, and giving a glimpse of a 
 bosom that heaved with many a sigh. 
 
 After a drive of a few minutes the Governor’s 
 wife reached the Elysee, where she ascended 
 the stairs. She did not enter the salon, where 
 the members of the court usually gathered, but 
 
 120 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 made her way straight to the private apart¬ 
 ments of the Princess, and sought from the first 
 maid in attendance to arrange an immediate in¬ 
 terview with her Imperial Highness. 
 
 Caroline had just arisen, and was seated on a 
 low couch which, like the rest of the furniture 
 in the room, was covered with white lace over 
 rose-colored silk. One of her maids was putting 
 on her stockings, while another was busy remov¬ 
 ing her large, lace nightcap. 
 
 Hastily slipping her feet (one still bare) into 
 some Turkish slippers, with her abundant hair 
 hanging loosely over her lace-trimmed chemise, 
 and with a colored handkerchief about her bare 
 neck. Princess Caroline gave Madame Junot a 
 quick, searching glance as she entered; then 
 running toward Laurette, she grasped her with 
 both hands, her own face becoming pale. 
 
 “My God, how you look ! What is the mat¬ 
 ter? Has Junot met with an accident? . . .” 
 
 Then turning to her maids, she said: “Go! 
 let us be alone ! ’ ’ 
 
 Madame Junot threw herself upon the breast 
 of her former friend and sobbed uncontrollably, 
 for she suddenly felt, strangely enough, that 
 here she should be understood and find help. 
 
 121 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘ ‘ Laurette, what has happened ? ’ ’ asked Caro¬ 
 line again, anxiously. 
 
 “Ah, madaine . . —Madame Junot lifted 
 her head with difficulty and dried her eyes— 
 “he has had a scene with the Emperor which 
 . , She sobbed again convulsively, but 
 fought to control herself. “ You know how ter¬ 
 ribly he takes everything to heart, and the Em¬ 
 peror is more to him than anything else in the 
 world . . . Oh, such a night! . . .” 
 
 “But, Laurette ! ” she screamed, “he has not 
 killed himself? . . .” 
 
 “No; but he has threatened to do so. Ah, to 
 the others the Emperor can say what he likes, 
 but to him . . . He has the sword in his hand 
 ... It will end with that—I feel it. He has 
 but one god, the Emperor, and then when he 
 misjudges him ...” 
 
 “But my brother likes Junot so much,” said 
 Caroline, now much more quiet. “There was 
 a time when he was more to him than any of his 
 brothers. I cannot understand for what reason 
 he now ...” She regarded Laurette search- 
 ingly. 
 
 The Governor’s wife dropped her eyes from 
 the piercing glance. 
 
 122 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “ The reason was but a small one ... I have 
 forgotten it.” Her voice was as proud as a 
 queen’s. 
 
 Caroline bent down and fastened the shoe on 
 her bare foot which she drew up under her, and 
 said: 
 
 ‘‘Madame Junot, I shall speak to my brother 
 regarding this.” 
 
 “He has resigned his post as Governor of 
 Paris! He will retire from the army I Think of 
 his leaving the army! It will be his death ! ” 
 
 “But Junot exaggerates—I know his dreadful 
 disposition. The Emperor could not have meant 
 his orders so.” 
 
 Madame Junot sat with her hand before her 
 eyes, her elbow resting on her knee. She slowly 
 answered, and with difficulty, but with perfect 
 clearness: 
 
 “His Majesty spoke about ‘plans’ which, if 
 they were not direct treason to himself, were trea¬ 
 son toward France and the Constitution . . .” 
 
 Caroline, startled, leaned back on the couch, 
 pale and silent. Neither spoke for many mo¬ 
 ments. 
 
 “But, Laurette, you should speak with Bona¬ 
 parte yourself! ’ ’ she at last exclaimed, suddenly. 
 
 123 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 He has always been tender and considerate of 
 you. Do yon remember Mabnaison ? ...” 
 
 ‘‘Ah! I have thought of everything,” inter¬ 
 rupted Madame Juuot, quickly. “But you 
 must speak with him first, madame. If he calls 
 me later on, I shall go to him.” 
 
 Caroline understood her. “You are proud, 
 little friend,” she said, slowly, with admiration. 
 
 Madame Junot smiled ironically. 
 
 “ Do you think so 1 It seems to me as though 
 this night has killed all pride in me. How I 
 have fought! . . . For I cannot, I will not, see 
 him destroy his future and our children’s future. 
 To break with the Emperor would mean to us 
 not only an unhappiness, which he never could 
 survive, but it would also bring with it complete 
 ruin.” 
 
 The Princes, after another long silence, said, 
 decidedly: 
 
 “You did right in coming to me at once, 
 Madame Junot. You know I have never forgot¬ 
 ten our old friendship, and my interest in you 
 both is so great that I shall gladly use all my 
 influence with Bonaparte to reconcile him and 
 your husband—not a difficult task, I hope.” 
 
 The Princess, now perfectly composed, realized 
 
 124 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 that she would have au unpleasant scene with 
 her brother, which she had hoped to avoid; but 
 she dreaded what Junot might do in his despair, 
 and she also feared the resolute, courageous Lau- 
 rette, who knew all. But, above all, Murat 
 must not know what had happened between 
 the Emperor and Junot, nor should the Governor 
 of Paris be permitted to resign his post, for, if 
 he did, all the world would know that his action 
 had been brought about by direct charges. 
 
 “You look quite miserable, Laurette,” she 
 said, gaily. “It is too bad you are married to 
 such a hothead! Stay and drink a cup of tea 
 with me, as in the good old days. We have not 
 as yet had a sensible word with each other, just 
 because of all this fuss your husband is making.” 
 
 To imitate her brother, the Princess now drank 
 tea in the morning, which she had served on the 
 roomy night-stand, also covered with rose-colored 
 silk under a magnificent spread of Mechlin lace. 
 
 “Ah yes, these men! these men!” she 
 sighed. “They make us nothing but trouble ! 
 Sister Paulette, in comparison, really has a very 
 comfortable time of it.” 
 
 ‘ ‘ But is Prince Camille such a fine example 
 of a husband?” exclaimed Madame Junot, half 
 
 125 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 laughingly, yielding to the genial warmth of the 
 tea, and deeply touched for the moment by 
 recollections of their early married life, when 
 she and Caroline, each in love with her own hus¬ 
 band—free from care, and very happy—had 
 freely chatted thus over a basket of grapes or 
 some other dainty morsel. 
 
 ‘‘Prince Camille ! He cares no more for her 
 than for an old pair of boots, so he cannot trouble 
 her much. No, I mean because she has no chil¬ 
 dren. She has no one to think of and work for; 
 she has only to amuse herself and take the world 
 as it comes. She goes her way—and he goes his. 
 But we ! ” The Princess sighed, then added, in 
 a burst of confidence: “Can you believe it? The 
 other day I found on the table in my room a 
 note from Murat to a certain little obscure . . . 
 Yes, you know her very well. I need but say 
 that her mother is an Englishwoman. Just 
 think of it!—he had written it right there, while 
 I sat at his side with Achille and Laetitia ! ’ ’ 
 
 Madame Junot had no difficulty in picturing 
 to herself this family group. 
 
 “And then people were surprised when I 
 turned this miss away from my ball. You re¬ 
 member my last grand ball, just before the Em- 
 
 126 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 peror’s return? . . . The Queen of Holland 
 protected the minx—just to irritate me, of 
 course ! You should have heard the uproar she 
 made in her behalf! Now she also has Josephine 
 interested in this ^ model ’ woman. Ah, my 
 dear Josephine, you will regret that! ” 
 
 The Princess laughed in her forced, hard way. 
 She was now in good humor again, for it always 
 amused her to talk with Laurette, who had been 
 acquainted with the whole family from her early 
 youth. Caroline, like all the Bonapartes, was 
 not at all nervous, and the thought of an im¬ 
 pending scene with her brother did not disturb 
 her good humor in the least. 
 
 “She is as wily as a snake, that girl, and 
 goodness knows what the men see in her ! ” con¬ 
 tinued Caroline. “But they are all crazy about 
 her. Yes, I hope I am not too indiscreet when 
 I tell you that the Governor of Paris also pays 
 his respects to the Guillebeau family on Boule¬ 
 vard Madeleine. There is gambling, they say, 
 in the mother’s salon, and later in the eve¬ 
 ning the daughters appear in gipsy costumes, 
 dancing and beating tambourines. What do 
 you think of that ? ’ ’ 
 
 “ I think your Highness had double reason. 
 
 127 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 then, for turning her away!” Laurette said, 
 quickly. Then she continued, more slowly: 
 
 ‘ ‘ A gipsy with tambourine ! How is it pos¬ 
 sible that she dare present herself in this 
 house ! ” 
 
 The Grand Duchess of Berg and Cleve appeared 
 not to understand Madame Junot; but she leaned 
 back and rang for her maids to aid her to finish 
 her toilet for her drive to the Tuileries, and soon 
 after this she bade good-by to Madame Junot 
 with a cordial embrace, at the same time send¬ 
 ing her regards to Laurette’s husband. 
 
 128 
 
XI 
 
 “ Le travail est mon Element; je suis 
 et construit pour le travail. J’ai conuu 
 les limites de mes jambes, j'ai connu les 
 limites de mes yeux—je n'ai jamais pu 
 connaitre ceux de mon travail." 
 
 Napoleon. 
 
 “ A vous ecouter, Madame, on croirait 
 que je vous ai frustree de I’heritage du 
 feu roi. notre pdrel ” 
 
 Mot de I’Empereur 
 it la Princesse Caroline. 
 
 FTER Is'apoleoii had definitely arranged 
 his home at the Tuileries in such a way 
 as to suit his tastes and his needs, he 
 admitted no one to his private study except his 
 secretary, Meneval. There, in this large and 
 practical room, he worked from breakfast until 
 dinner, at six, interrupted at times by audiences 
 with his ministers and others in an adjoining 
 room—the so-called arriere cabinet. 
 
 In his study the Emperor permitted no intru¬ 
 sions; he had consecrated it to his work. When 
 busy there he often walked the floor by the 
 hour, dictating rapidly. The overworked secre¬ 
 tary sat at his writing-table by the window, and 
 
 129 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 restlessly heaped up sheets of paper without 
 fiudiug time to arrange or classify them, while 
 the Emperor was in the room. At the middle 
 of the floor stood Napoleon’s own writing-table, 
 mounted with bronze. This was also entirely cov¬ 
 ered with books and papers, and underneath it, 
 screwed to the floor, stood a little safe to which 
 the owner alone had the key. Behind its artistic 
 and unbreakable lock were concealed the most 
 precious and important secrets in the empire. 
 Napoleon’s large portfolio was the only confldant 
 to which he dared entrust his new-born plans, 
 his unfinished combinations, and his daring 
 political sketches and dreams. 
 
 After an unusually busy forenoon, his Majesty 
 the Emperor had had a plain luncheon, alone, as 
 usual, and was on the point of resuming his 
 work when the Grand Marshal, Duroc, an¬ 
 nounced to him that the Grand Duchess of Berg 
 and Cleve wished an immediate interview with 
 him. He directed that she should be admitted 
 a half hour later, and, turning quietly to his 
 secretary, he picked up the thread of conversa¬ 
 tion where it had been interrupted by his frugal 
 meal. 
 
 “Well, Meneval, have you the letter ready for 
 
 130 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 the King of Naples ? ” he said, as he seated him¬ 
 self in a writing-chair, which he seldom occu¬ 
 pied, except when he was about to sign his name. 
 “I trust you did not forget to impress upon him 
 the fact that, in the present condition of Europe, 
 the loss of Corfu was the greatest calamity which 
 coidd befal the country! That is enough. I 
 need not give him any reasons—he knows them. 
 But underline my words.” 
 
 The Emperor was not in humor to-day to 
 write details. In silence he was shown one 
 document after another which the secretary had 
 had time to finish while the Emperor was at 
 luncheon. The pen sputtered and spread a rain 
 of ink around itself as he quickly wrote his 
 almost unreadable signature, and often took no 
 other trouble than simply to sign a large iV. 
 
 Since his return from Tilsit he was more than 
 ever full of work; for, in spite of his constant 
 care of every detail in the affairs of the country, 
 there was still much with which he could not 
 occiipy himself while in the field and at such 
 great distances from Paris. The many advance¬ 
 ments and changes in civil and military service 
 needed Napoleon’s personal attention, besides 
 the long-contemplated change of officials, the re- 
 
 131 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 formation of Corps Legislatif, the care of the fleet 
 (which, since Trafalgar, needed all the restora¬ 
 tion it could get), the coast defenses, which had 
 to be strengthened, and—before everything else 
 —the complete rearrangement and reorganiza¬ 
 tion of the flnances of the empire and of the 
 Bank of France. Added to this, he also had an 
 eye upon all the great road and canal undertak¬ 
 ings, which were recommended in all parts of 
 the country, and the monumental works for the 
 use and beauty of Paris, which he impatiently 
 hurried. His untiring endeavor to get sufficient 
 good water for his capital had almost succeeded. 
 Large fountains in all parts of the city played 
 day and night, furnishing even the poorest with 
 abundant water. The Arch of Triumph, the 
 Vendome Column, the Temple (which he had 
 decided to erect the year before, in honor of 
 French arms —le Temple de la Gloire), the 
 newly begun bridge over the Seine (which should 
 compare with the Austerlitz bridge and take its 
 name from Jena), the erection of enormous 
 market halls (which he called ^‘The Louvre of 
 the Poor”)—all these occupied his time, just as 
 though he were personally the leader and chief 
 of these many undertakings. 
 
 132 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 To him came all reports—even regarding the 
 smallest details. Stronger and stronger there 
 grew within him a jealous desire to be not only 
 the one who ruled the present time, but also the 
 only one who judged, thought, and acted for the 
 future. 
 
 At last, after having carefully read all letters 
 and despatches, he arose and glanced carelessly 
 at the clock. He stretched his hand for his hat 
 and sword, nodded to Meneval, who scarcely 
 had time to look up from his papers, and went 
 into the salon to receive his sister. 
 
 Princess Caroline had waited a long time, and, 
 though accustomed to her brother’s indifference, 
 she was already in a bad humor on account of 
 the delay. He had let her wait like any 
 other supplicant! His manners were not merely 
 thoughtless, they were positively offensive! He 
 demanded the utmost deference from every one, 
 but it never occurred to him to put the least re¬ 
 straint upon himself. 
 
 He nodded indifferently to the Princess, who 
 courtesied repeatedly as she entered the room, at¬ 
 tired in a forenoon toilet of white embroidered 
 mousseline, with a short overskirt of rose-colored 
 gauze, decollete, and almost without sleeves. 
 
 133 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Over her arms hung loosely a light shawl, gleam¬ 
 ing with silver thread, and on her head was a 
 heavy velvet toque decorated with white plumes. 
 What with head-gear, the noonday heat, and the 
 irritating delay, was it any wonder that her fine 
 complexion was redder than was becoming to her? 
 
 ‘‘Well, my dear Caroline, what have you on 
 your mind ? ” he asked, coolly. 
 
 “On my mind? . . . What else should a sis¬ 
 ter who has not seen her brother for several 
 months have on her mind than the wish to be 
 permitted, in all confidence, to bid him welcome 
 home?” 
 
 Napoleon smiled. He walked up to the Prin¬ 
 cess, clasped her waist with both hands, lifted 
 her from the floor, and put her carefully down 
 again, steadily looking straight into her eyes 
 with the same unmerciful glance. 
 
 “A-ha, little friend, and you think that you 
 are so clever that you can deceive me! So Junot 
 has already told you all ? ” 
 
 “No,” she answered, without taking her eyes 
 from him, “Madame Junot has done it.” 
 
 Napoleon whistled softly. He turned on his 
 heels and commenced to walk up and down the 
 floor, with his hands behind his back. 
 
 134 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘^Madame la ‘ Gouverneuse' ! She is a smart 
 little devil! She sends you to me; no one but 
 she would have thought of disarming me in this 
 manner ! ’ ’ 
 
 He stood awhile in front of the Princess, who 
 remained silent, swaying his body to and fro; 
 then he exclaimed: 
 
 ‘‘What competent and daring diplomats 
 women are when it concerns something or some 
 one they love! Laurette—the proud Laurette— 
 has come to you! Naturally, she would not, on 
 any condition, lose her title —‘•Madame la Gov- 
 ernante de Paris ’ / ” 
 
 “She supposes, as I do, that Junot, in his 
 usual impetuousuess and completely blind per¬ 
 sonal devotion to you, has acted too impul¬ 
 sively,” said the Princess, quietly and unre¬ 
 strained. 
 
 “And you, my dear Caroline,” said the Em¬ 
 peror, ironically—“you have, of course, no idea 
 of what has caused Junot to take this step 
 
 “Not the slightest!” answered her Highness, 
 still unruffled. 
 
 “My compliments, Aunonciade! You excel 
 even Mademoiselle Mars! Unfortunately, you 
 do not act nearly so well on the stage as in real 
 
 135 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 life. But you need not exert yourself too much 
 here,” he said, dryly. “I know to a dot all 
 about your nice little romance with the Governor 
 of Paris.” 
 
 The Princess did not answer, but she flushed 
 with indignation. 
 
 '‘There are none who cause me more disagree¬ 
 able, nonsensical trouble than my relatives.” 
 And the Emperor wandered angrily up and down 
 the room with long strides, working himself up 
 more and more. “Have I not had one scene 
 after another this whole winter with Hey and 
 Lannes — yes, even with Augereau ! — because 
 they insist that I always prefer Murat to them. 
 God knows that I do not prefer Murat for any 
 other reason than because he is married to a 
 Bonaparte ! I do everything for my brothers 
 and sisters, and what thanks have I for it? 
 In the field your husband makes trouble be¬ 
 tween my men and my best Generals, and here 
 at home you are entangling Junot in a stupid 
 story ! ’ ’ 
 
 The Princess had now recovered her self- 
 possession. She was absolutely sure that 
 Junot, in his usually chivalrous manner, had 
 been silent about everything concerning her, 
 
 136 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 so she could easily deny all her brother’s 
 charges. 
 
 “I really do not comprehend what it is that 
 your Majesty is charging me with ! I have been 
 an intimate friend of Madame Juuot for ten 
 years, and if it pleases your Majesty to listen to 
 all the gossip of evil-minded and envious per¬ 
 sons, then ... Yes, then, of course, I have 
 nothing to say.” 
 
 “One need not be evil-minded to think it a 
 little suspicious when the Governor’s equipage 
 can always be seen outside ^}lys4e. And, not 
 alone that, you have shown yourself with him 
 in public during the whole spring—even at 
 Tivoli!—danced with him at all balls . . . Ah, 
 you may easily see that I am well informed ! ’ ’ 
 
 “Now this is going too far !” exclaimed the 
 Princess, indignantly. “I should not be per¬ 
 mitted to dance with Junot, who has known me 
 since I was a little girl, and whom Signora 
 Lsetitia to this day calls her sixth son 1 Is it 
 this with which you charge me, sire ? Then you 
 should see that some one in the Tuileries does 
 not behave worse than at the i^lys^e ! ” 
 
 This plain thrust at the Empress made Napo¬ 
 leon furious. 
 
 137 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “Silence, Caroline!” he said, severely, 
 stamping his foot. “After all that I know 
 abont you, it would be becoming for you to be¬ 
 have more modestly. If you had been led on 
 to this story merely because you were infatuated 
 with Junot, who is a handsome fellow and 
 who understands women to perfection, I should 
 have thought nothing of it. I can understand 
 that one might tire of Murat! But you busy 
 yourself with politics; you have had entirely 
 different motives. You—” he looked at her 
 and lifted his hand. “Ah, perhaps you don’t 
 think I have seen through it all! ” 
 
 The Emperor placed himself in front of her 
 and took her forcibly by both shoulders. 
 
 “You need not take the trouble to defend 
 yourself; I know what I know. But one thing 
 I demand : that you give me an honest answer 
 to this question:—Have you ever confided to 
 Junot your, as it seems, quite elaborate 
 plans %’ ’ 
 
 “No,” answered the Princess, in a short, 
 pouty manner. She realized that there was no 
 use in further concealment. 
 
 “ Well ? . . . Now, at last, I can see how it is 
 with this whole affair! You knew Junot’s 
 138 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 loyalty to me, and you have been clever enough 
 not to confide your intrigues to him ; but you 
 wished, in any case, to arrange it so that the 
 Governor of Paris, when it came to the point, 
 could not deny you anything ! That was not so 
 stupidly thought out for a woman—or, rather, 
 only a woman could devise such a plan. The 
 worst of it is, however, it is now impossible for 
 me to find out whether Junot would have fallen 
 into the trap at last.” 
 
 Caroline was not easily scared; her nerves 
 were completely mastered by her will—a charac¬ 
 teristic of the family which she possessed to the 
 highest degree. Her brother’s anger and irony 
 did not make the slightest impression upon 
 her. 
 
 ‘‘And if I really had had the thought with 
 which your Majesty pleases to accuse me, would 
 it really have been so great a crime ? Eemem- 
 ber, all this began before the 5th of May ! And 
 if the calamity had happened to France and to 
 us all at that time, God forbid now and always 
 . . . Well, your Majesty is but human, like the 
 rest of us . . . Would it then have been agree¬ 
 able for us—for your Majesty’s sisters and broth¬ 
 ers, who have the first right to your care—that a 
 
 139 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 stranger, in the hands of the Empress and Eu¬ 
 gene de Beauharnais, should become our mas¬ 
 ter? . . 
 
 “A stranger ! I do not know why Louis’ son 
 should not be as near to me as youi’ husband 
 and Achille?” 
 
 The Princess shrugged her shoulders and 
 smiled meaningly. 
 
 The Emperor understood it, of course, very 
 weD, for he answered, dryly: 
 
 “Dear Caroline, you can be very clever, but 
 once in a while your fancies get the best of you. 
 You have already given several versions to the 
 story about this poor child’s birth ... It is 
 all nonsense. I hope that Murat in the future 
 can be as sure of his youngsters as Louis is of 
 his! ” 
 
 “Napoleon!” The Princess arose threat¬ 
 eningly ; her face burned scarlet under the 
 white feathers of the toque. 
 
 The Emperor seemed not to hear her, nor to 
 be inclined to continue the conversation, for he 
 knew from experience that he might now expect 
 both fainting and tears. He turned around and 
 glanced at the clock on the mantel. 
 
 “Good-by, Madame Caroline; you detain me 
 
 140 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 much too long with your stupidities. By the 
 way, remember me to Madame Junot, and tell 
 her that she need not fear for her stately title. 
 Do you believe that I, for the sake of your ex¬ 
 travagances, would part with a person who can 
 fill his position and be of unaccountable use to 
 me? He will remain the Governor of Paris, of 
 course, as long as there is use for him there, 
 whether he wishes it or not. But he must go 
 away for a while until they are through gossip¬ 
 ing at the Faubourg St. Germain. . . . Well, 
 but this has nothing to do with you ! Now let 
 me see that in the future you behave decently.” 
 
 At the door he spoke again: “ It would really 
 be better to rid myself of you and your husband 
 than to send Junot away. Why do you not 
 retire to your ducal estate ? Look at Elisa! 
 She is of use to me, and the stupid things she 
 does are at least not done in Paris.” 
 
 The Grand Duchess of Berg and Cleve, who a 
 minute ago had lifted her head full of expect¬ 
 ancy, when the Emperor spoke of sending her 
 away, dropped again offendedly into her former 
 position. 
 
 ^^My estate! my dukedom!” she said, con¬ 
 temptuously. “To others your Majesty donates 
 
 141 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 crowns; but to us, your own sisters, who have a 
 certain right . . 
 
 “Eight!” interrupted Napoleon, ironically. 
 “Dearest sister, it seems to me that we have 
 quite conscientiously divided the inheritance 
 from the King . . . our father ! ” 
 
 142 
 
XII 
 
 Paris — Paris, c’est la France I 
 
 Napoleon. 
 
 Son caractSre m’^tait connu. II ne fal 
 lait pas aller trop loin avec lui, mais il 
 fallait se donner de garde aussi de de- 
 meurer en arriere. 
 
 Mme. JoNOT 
 (sur I’Empereur). 
 
 ADAME JuNOT had speut the afternoon 
 before the 15th of August, the anni¬ 
 versary of Napoleon’s birthday, with 
 the Empress; and now that it was evening she 
 was seated in her own home, tired and not a little 
 irritated because she had been obliged to spend 
 a whole half hour on the road between the Tuil- 
 eries and the Champs-^llys4es. The coachman 
 had picked his way foot by foot, stopping fre¬ 
 quently to avoid the streams of people who 
 poured from all directions toward the Tuileries, 
 both to see the fireworks along the river and to 
 view the Champs-i^lysees illuminated with the 
 lanterns in the national colors. 
 
 Madame Junot was glad to be safely home at 
 last, sitting cosily in her large arm-chair, and 
 looking thoughtfully but uninterestedly out upon 
 
 143 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 gayly lighted Paris. The glow from the many 
 lanterns outside faintly lighted her room, while 
 the excited exclamations now sounded more 
 hushed in the distance, joyously mingliug with 
 the noise from the passing crowds. 
 
 Madame Junot’s thoughts had nothing to do 
 with the Emperor’s birthday; they were not 
 even occupied with the grand fdte in his honor, 
 at which she should preside on the morrow at 
 the Hotel de Ville, where, as the Governor’s 
 wife, she should do les honneurs for Napoleon. 
 Her arrangements were already made with all 
 the skill of an adept in the art of entertaining, 
 so they were giving her no further trouble. 
 
 The door to the adjoining salon opened sud¬ 
 denly; she heard quick, well-known steps which 
 gradually grew slower and finally hesitated. . . . 
 She sat and listened anxiously, without rising or 
 changing her position, as Junot walked slowly 
 into the room. 
 
 There was no other light in the room than that 
 which came through the windows from the 
 street, so she could not see his face; but from his 
 walk and the relaxed carriage of his shoulders 
 she knew that there was something wrong—in 
 fact, she felt it the moment he entered. 
 
 144 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “Is it you, Junot?” she asked, slowly, look¬ 
 ing toward the door. 
 
 “Yes,” he answered, quietly, as he sat down 
 opposite to her at the table and rested both 
 hands upon his knees. The sharp explosion of 
 the rockets as they rose in the air and the joyful 
 exclamations from the streets were plainly heard 
 in the quiet room. 
 
 Suddenly, with painful effort, he said: “ With¬ 
 in a month I leave Paris.” 
 
 She started from the chair. “Can it be true? 
 What do you say ? Leave Paris ! ...” 
 
 “Napoleon does not want me here any longer. 
 He will send me away when he himself comes 
 home. He knows me; he knows that that is the 
 hardest punishment he ever ...” The Gov¬ 
 ernor of Paris stopped, straightened himself in 
 the chair and drummed loudly with his fingers 
 on the table. 
 
 Madame Junot bent forward and grasped his 
 hand. 
 
 “Tell me all, dear one,” she said, tenderly, 
 soothingly. 
 
 “There is nothing more to tell,” he answered 
 in the same forced, indifferent manner. “The 
 Emperor has just appointed me as First Com- 
 
 145 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 mander of the Army of the Gironde . . And 
 to her exclamation, which showed both surprise 
 and relief, he raised his hand hopelessly, and 
 exclaimed: 
 
 ‘ ‘ Can you not see that he wants to get rid of 
 mel That this is disgrace and exile ? . . 
 
 Laurette at the same moment grasped its full 
 import, realizing its meaning just as clearly as 
 he. ‘ ^ Is not that what I have always told 
 you?” she thought; but she could not bear to 
 tell him so, now adding: 
 
 “Surely the Emperor has shown a very re¬ 
 markable sign of the confidence he has in you, 
 and he could scarcely have meant this in any 
 other way than as a special honor to you. Did 
 you speak with him yourself?” 
 
 “No; I received the news through the War 
 Department. . . . But I will not accept it,” he 
 continued, impetuously. “ I will not do it. No 
 one need imagine that he can drive me out of 
 the country in this manner ! As soon as I am 
 away . . . Well, you know, the absent one is 
 always in the wrong. ’ ’ 
 
 He impatiently began to walk up and down 
 the floor. She followed him anxiously with her 
 eyes, and at last she said: 
 
 146 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘'Speak to the Emperor yourself to-morrow 
 at the festival, or aj)ply for an audience. Ah, 
 could he only see you as I see you now ! . . .” 
 
 The siucerity of her voice touched him, and 
 drew him to a seat on the arm of her chair. 
 
 “I will let you remain here. You shall see 
 that they don’t make trouble for me with him. 
 My own Laurette ! Had I not you, then . . .” 
 
 She laughed lightly, glad for his tender, ear¬ 
 nest glance and words. 
 
 “Then you would comfort yourself in some 
 other way!” She sighed, and they both sat 
 silently for a moment, hand in hand. Then she 
 slowly arose. 
 
 “Let us retire. To-morrow will be a hard 
 day for both of us.” 
 
 Napoleon had purposely selected his birthday, 
 the 15th of August, for this feast, by which the 
 city of Paris should celebrate his home-coming. 
 He wished to give as much eclat to the occasion 
 as possible, and thus flatter the city. He well 
 knew that he had more difficulty in conquering 
 Paris than in conquering the whole world, and 
 he never felt quite sure of his absolute posses¬ 
 sion of it. The Emperor knew that it was first 
 
 147 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 necessary to control the dance-halls, wine-cel¬ 
 lars, caf6s, and salons of Paris before he could 
 lead France and, through France, Europe. This 
 latent undercurrent of ever-changing resist¬ 
 ance, which Paris always offered, irritated and 
 troubled him more than he was really willing to 
 admit. He who never feared the whole of 
 allied Europe for a moment, and who, with a 
 glance and a smile, got his armies to go to the 
 end of the world; who understood how to compel 
 the mighty Eoman Church to make the most 
 unheard-of concessions; who reduced the Senate 
 to a choir of praise-singing, humble spirits; who 
 unflinchingly dissolved the whole tribunal when 
 he thought it no longer useful—he did not fear, 
 the word “fear” did not flt him; but he felt 
 greatly annoyed by the saucy criticisms in which 
 the Parisian tongues and pens indulged in re¬ 
 gard to himself and his institutions. He had 
 far more respect for a gathering of people on the 
 carousal square, or in the Palais-Eoyal, than for 
 a hostile army of 300,000 men. With untiring 
 care he saw that the troops which lay in Paris 
 never had combats with the inhabitants of the 
 city—“It would be impossible for me to take 
 part against the people ! ” he said. 
 
 148 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Many important scenes in the history of 
 France had been enacted in the old Hotel de 
 Ville, but now it was not considered large 
 enough for the coming festivities. In conse¬ 
 quence, there was erected for this occasion a 
 stately and very roomy hall in the inner yard of 
 this building. Count Frochot, the Pr4fet of 
 Paris, had taken it upon himself to arrange the 
 program for the festival, and to be the leader of 
 it all. The details, however, had to be laid be¬ 
 fore Duroc and the master of ceremonies, M. de 
 S^gur. The Governor of Paris had but to re¬ 
 ceive his Majesty at the foot of the stairs and 
 lead him into the hall. His wife and the Pr6fet 
 had the honor of escorting the Empress. 
 
 Madame Junot was quite equal to the de¬ 
 mands of the occasion, but she was nervous 
 over the knowledge that her husband intended 
 to make use of the first opportunity to speak a 
 few words to Napoleon about the journey to 
 Bayonne. He was too impetuous to postpone 
 such a disagreeable task any longer than was 
 necessary, and she was very anxious to know 
 how the Emperor would receive his petition. 
 
 It was a mild, still August evening. She 
 stood at the head of the stairs, by the side of 
 
 149 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Count Frocliot, awaiting the arrival of her 
 Majesty’s cortege. But she was uot the least 
 cold in her toilet of silk tulle —lamee W argent. 
 Behind her stood twenty-four ladies, all in white, 
 who had been selected to welcome the Empress 
 as representatives of the foremost names in the 
 industrial and ceremonial world of Paris. 
 
 They had waited a long time before the car¬ 
 riages at last drove up. After her Majesty 
 came Napoleon’s mother, then the Queen of 
 Holland, the Grand Duchess of Berg, and Prin¬ 
 cess Stephanie of Baden. The imperial ladies 
 were received with all the form dictated by eti¬ 
 quette as Empress Josephine stepped slowly up 
 the stairs between Madame Junot and the 
 Prefet. 
 
 The Governor’s wife opened the ball with the 
 Grand Duke of Berg. Junot danced with Prin¬ 
 cess Stephanie. Now Murat had always shown 
 himself very gallant toward Madame Junot, but 
 to-night he excelled himself. He was, as it 
 was then the fashion to express it, a real ‘ ‘ Trou¬ 
 badour,” overflowing with sentimental compli¬ 
 ments. He wore a glittering, fantastic uniform 
 in “Polish style,” as he himself expressed it, 
 but his brother-in-law, the Emperor, called it 
 
 150 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 d, la FranconV But, anyhow, he looked stately 
 in his chapska and his short jacket, a la Polonaise. 
 Madame Juuot, who did not have more respect 
 for his Highness than she used to have for him 
 when he was but General Murat, joked gayly 
 with him about all the plumes which he had 
 used during the campaign. He assured her, with 
 his hand upon his heart, that he had thrown 
 them away as soon as a drop of rain or a grain of 
 dust had fallen upon them—“So that my lady’s 
 color, white”—here he looked at her snow- 
 white costume—“ should always be spotless.” 
 
 She burst out laughing, and, with a flattering 
 remark about his brilliant charge against the 
 Enssians at Eylau, she answered, gayly, “With 
 such a lot of plumes—yes, even with less—one 
 ought to lead France to victory.” 
 
 The Emperor, as usual, walked around the 
 hall, and stopped behind them, hearing the last 
 remark. 
 
 ‘ ‘ She has not forgotten her repartee, ‘ Madame 
 la Gouverneuse ’ You are wasting your time in 
 being gallant to her, Murat. She has always 
 been a model of devotion to her husband.” He 
 met her glance, fleetingly, and turned his head 
 half away. “Do you remember, madame, when 
 
 151 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 you implored me last summer to be permitted 
 to go to Juuot at Parma ? Wbat do you say now 
 to a trip to Bayonne ? ’ ’ 
 
 Madam Juuot smiled. ‘ ‘ If your Majesty would 
 permit it, I should prefer to remain in Paris.” 
 
 “Ah, the ladies ! they are all alike ! Paris ! 
 Paris ! . . . As though they could not live out¬ 
 side of Paris ! ’ ’ 
 
 “Yes, the gentlemen—the gentlemen, they can 
 . . .” Madame Junot smiled maliciously, look¬ 
 ing up at the Emperor. She lowered her eyes 
 again, afraid that she had shown too much 
 familiarity among all these people who did not 
 belong to her usual circle, and her eyelashes 
 threw a soft, dark shadow over her finely flushed 
 cheeks with their little dimples. Although she 
 was not so stately as her beautiful Grecian 
 mother, who had been Bonaparte’s first love, 
 she still resembled her very much. After this 
 by-play Napoleon had intended to pass on ; but 
 he remained standing and pinched her ear 
 slightly as he forced her to lift her head again. 
 
 “How old are you really, Madame Junot? 
 Is it already your intention to hide your age ? 
 By the way, it seems to me that you are very 
 modestly attired.” 
 
 152 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Madame Jiinot was, of course, as decollete as 
 the other ladies, which meant a good deal, so 
 she laughed as she answered: 
 
 ‘‘I am twenty-three years old. It has never 
 occurred to me to hide my age—at least, not 
 from you. Sire, whom I could not deceive, any¬ 
 how.” 
 
 “Yes, we are indeed old acquaintances, Ma¬ 
 dame Laurette. Before you were married you 
 were a pale little youngster—but now ! ’ ’ 
 
 Laurette did not answer, but bent her head a 
 little. 
 
 “Look at her, Murat! There is a wife who 
 is in love with her husband ! ’ ’ 
 
 Murat laughed in a noisy manner that always 
 irritated and hurt Madame Junot. 
 
 “Junot has always had a wonderful power 
 over women. Do you remember in the Orient, 
 Murat, the yellow Xraxarane ? He could have 
 burned her at the stake like an Indian widow 
 when he went away; she would not have ob¬ 
 jected. At the most, she would have extin¬ 
 guished the fire with her tears.” 
 
 Madame Junot knew that it was the Emper¬ 
 or’s delight to tease the young matrons with 
 their husbands’ old love affairs, which he had at 
 
 153 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 his fingers’ ends. She had heard them so often 
 that she was hardened to them. 
 
 “Ah, Jaunette,’’'' she said, laughingly; “she 
 was sweet. I have her portrait on the mantel in 
 my room.” 
 
 “Indeed ! I have more and more respect for 
 you, Madame Junot. You are exceptionally 
 sensible.” 
 
 “Ah, I assure you, your Majesty, you over¬ 
 value me. Jaunette was long before my time. 
 But perhaps had you spoken about some one 
 else, not quite so colored . . . Had she resem¬ 
 bled another favorite odalisk from down there 
 who was once shown me—a silk-soft blonde, with 
 eyes like sapphires, and such hands . . . and 
 lips . . .” 
 
 Murat stopped laughing, and looked at Ma¬ 
 dame Junot with an anxious warning; but Na¬ 
 poleon laughed aloud. This quite impertinent 
 allusion to his well-known Egyptian mistress 
 was far from offending him; on the contrary, it 
 amused him for the moment, at least. 
 
 “Unfortunately, I have not seen the lady of 
 whom you are speaking,” he said, with assumed 
 earnestness. “Ah, so—did Junot also keep 
 white slaves in his seraglio ? ’ ’ 
 
 154 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘‘No, Sire—oh, no. They were reserved for 
 —for—the Sultan.” 
 
 “Yes, the Sultan can allow himself many 
 caprices ! ” The Emperor smiled. “Although, 
 unfortunately, they are not all satisfied—is it 
 not so, Madame Junot? ” 
 
 He watched her closely with a smile, with 
 something peculiar in his glance which she did 
 not quite understand. He had already turned 
 to go, hut bethought himself, and said, softly, 
 coming quite close to her: 
 
 propos! Your husband spoke to me, a 
 little while ago, in regard to this trip to Ba¬ 
 yonne. It did not quite suit me at that time to 
 consider any change in the plan, but I did not 
 finish my conference with him. He ought to 
 know, though, that my orders are never changed. 
 Besides, I have use for him at Bayonne in mat¬ 
 ters of which he shall soon know. But you . . . 
 well, you tell me that you would rather remain 
 in Paris ...” And with a careless nod he 
 continued his round. 
 
 Murat could not get the conversation started 
 again; his partner had suddenly become pecul¬ 
 iarly distracted. 
 
 155 
 
XIII 
 
 On aime toujours bien plus pour sot 
 meme que pour autrui, et le premier des 
 biens que I’amour donne, c’est d’aimer. 
 
 Mme. JuNOT 
 (“ fitienne Saulnier ”). 
 
 T was an evening toward the end of this 
 same momentous month of August. 
 The clock had just struck nine; and as 
 it did not look as though Junot would soon come 
 home, Madame Junot thought she would retire, 
 as she was tired and, unusual enough, alone. 
 While one of her maids was brushing her hair 
 and arranging it for the night old Josephine 
 entered the room. 
 
 ‘‘Madame,’’ she said, “there is a lackey in 
 the waiting-room with a letter from the Tuileries. 
 He has orders to wait for monseigneur. I be¬ 
 lieve it is in haste.” 
 
 Madame Junot turned her head languidly, 
 while she slowly filled the hollow of her hand 
 with eau de Portugal from the crystal bottle. 
 
 “Who is it from?” 
 
 “ From the Grand Marshal.” 
 
 156 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Madame Junot arose quickly, impatiently 
 twisted the loose, hanging hair into a coil high 
 on her head, and into it hastily stuck a comb 
 studded with pearls. She threw a shawl over 
 her lace dressing-gown, 
 
 “Let Martin and Dubois saddle their horses 
 at once, and see if they can find monseigneur. 
 Wait, I will write a few words. . . , He must 
 be either with Madame de Lalligant or with Car¬ 
 dinal Dubelloy. So here—please ! . . .” 
 
 Laurette had suddenly lost all inclination to 
 go to bed, so anxious was she to know w'hat 
 Duroc could wish to tell her husband. She 
 wrapped herself in her large cashmere shawl, 
 and had the candles lighted in her boudoir. 
 
 Junot, tired out, came in with the open letter 
 in his hand. 
 
 “Thank God, you are here at last!” His 
 wife turned quickly away from the window 
 where she had posted herself to watch for him. 
 “Have you met Martin or Dubois'? . . .” 
 
 “ No. ” He threw the letter indifferently upon 
 her writing-desk, “I—I was . . . I found out, 
 just the same, what it was about.” 
 
 Madame Junot looked at him. “Ah! I un- 
 
 157 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 derstand ...” She took the letter and read it 
 through, half aloud. 
 
 It was from Duroc, hut it concerned entirely 
 different matters from what she had thought. 
 He notified Junot, in few words, that Princess 
 Catherine of Wiirtemberg, the future Queen of 
 Westphalia, would arrive at Eaincy the next 
 morning with her suite. His Majesty had de¬ 
 cided that she should breakfast and rest at 
 Eaincy after the journey. 
 
 The Emperor did not wish that his brother’s 
 prospective bride should make a grand entrance 
 into the city at high noon, as did the Duchess of 
 Bourgogne and other Princesses under Vancien 
 regime. He thought that she might remain with 
 the Junots at Eaincy, which was bnt a short dis¬ 
 tance from Paris, until the evening. 
 
 ‘‘Madame Junot knows how to talk to Prin¬ 
 cesses. Let her entertain Princess Catharine 
 until I send Jerome for her ! ” 
 
 During the reading Jnnot sat down on the 
 sofa between the windows, crossed his legs, and 
 was thoughtfully stroking his silk stockings. 
 He was still in evening dress, with low shoes and 
 white knee-breeches. By his side lay his large 
 three-cornered hat. 
 
 158 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Well, this may prove to be quite amusing ! ” 
 Madame Junot folded the letter energetically. 
 ‘'He gives us orders to receive a Princess to¬ 
 morrow morning and amuse her the whole day, 
 just as he would give his valet orders to bring 
 him his snuff-box ! It is almost eleven o’clock, 
 and we have but the night before us in which 
 to drive to Rainey and make all arrangements ! ’ ’ 
 
 Junot pulled at his shoe and looked up. He 
 knit his brow and whistled, but he did not 
 speak. 
 
 Laurette looked up at him uneasily, sure that 
 he had come directly from the ^ilys6e. What 
 could he have heard which made him now so 
 sullen and disinterested in everything at home ? 
 She wrapped herself in her crimson shawl with 
 a wrathful gesture, crossed her bare arms, and 
 stood looking straight at her husband. 
 
 “Junot . . . you don’t help me at all! . . .” 
 
 “ Ah, Laurette”—he impatiently put his foot 
 to the floor and bent forward, with his elbows 
 on his knees—“I have really so many other 
 things to think of! What do you wish me to 
 do? The Emperor wishes it thus.” 
 
 He looked up at her while he spoke. She 
 suddenly felt a deep pity for him. She knew 
 
 159 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 what the trouble was—now, when every one 
 thought that he was in disgrace with the Em¬ 
 peror, they were all turning away from him. 
 
 ‘‘You are right; there is nothing to do!” 
 she exclaimed, gayly. “Do you wish me to 
 answer Duroc ? Of course, she is welcome, poor 
 child, who has to marry Jerome! I shall 
 arrange it all as well as I can ; but you must be 
 maitre de plaisir. We must certainly amuse her 
 with a hunt after breakfast. . . .” 
 
 Madame Junot had settled down at her desk 
 while she spoke. She tried the pen upon her 
 thumb nail, to see if it were cut right, and took 
 paper from the portfolio. When she was glad 
 and happy she would nearly always drive his 
 indisposition away. And after this gay rally 
 Junot lifted his head and smiled. 
 
 “Of course she must hunt—a Teutonic Prin¬ 
 cess ! She is as stiff as a stick, I have heard. 
 You must chat with her, Laurette ; I shall have 
 to be excused. I am not much acquainted with 
 Princesses other than Spanish and Portuguese, 
 and deliver me from them ! ” 
 
 “ Ail, you also know a couple of French ones 
 —better, I mean.” 
 
 Madame Junot turned her proud little head 
 
 160 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 a bit, and smiled with her fine, sarcastic, self- 
 confident smile, which had a shade of superiority 
 about it. 
 
 “I wonder, dear, if this hunt will be as amus¬ 
 ing to you as the hunts at Rainey used to be ! ” 
 
 But when she saw the fiush upon his forehead 
 and the impetuous manner in which he suddenly 
 turned his head away, there flitted an expres¬ 
 sion of anxiety and deep pity over her face. 
 She arose and slowly sought his side. 
 
 Junot, . . She searched for words that 
 did not come, but she remained standing at his 
 side with one hand on the chair on which he sat. 
 
 Junot was deeply touched by the expression in 
 this face which he, in spite of all, loved the 
 most in all the world. Easily moved as he was, 
 he drew her hand to him and murmured, as he 
 bent his face down over it: 
 
 “Why don’t you say something, Laurette, be¬ 
 cause I have been away to-night? Upbraid me, 
 be angry with me, as you used to be till ...” 
 
 “What can I upbraid you for? She is like 
 the brother; when she wished to rule, then ...” 
 
 He guessed her thoughts, and, bitterly hurt in 
 his manly pride, he said: 
 
 “I understand you! In this, as in everything 
 
 161 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 else, you see in me only a desire to obey—a 
 Bonaparte ! ” 
 
 She gently drew her hand from his, and leaned 
 against the window-sill. 
 
 “Do you imagine that any woman could re¬ 
 sist Napoleon when he loved, or thought he 
 loved ? ’ ’ 
 
 Junot smiled a little doubtfully. “I have, at 
 least, never known one.” 
 
 His wife still looked steadily at him. There 
 was in her clear, beaming glance, and in her 
 proud smile, something which made him anxious, 
 and which at the same time astonished him, but 
 which, at this moment, he did not comprehend. 
 
 She moved her lips as though to speak again, 
 but controlled herself. As she passed him in 
 walking toward her desk, she said, plainly, in her 
 usual voice: 
 
 “Yes; there you see ...” 
 
 Junot remained sitting, and followed her 
 thoughtfully with his eyes while she finished her 
 letter, with her back turned to him. 
 
 In his present tired and embittered soul there 
 awoke a suspicion to which he dared not listen. 
 Had Napoleon tried to win his wife ? Had she, 
 for her husband’s sake and out of love for him, 
 
 162 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 enough courage and power to resist what no other 
 woman in France would have resisted 1 He re¬ 
 membered, suddenly, her expression when she 
 had said to him once, in a tender moment, No 
 woman could resist Bonaparte if she did not love 
 another man with all her soul. ’ ’ He had laughed 
 and said that if the thought of the Emperor 
 haunted all the women of France to the same 
 degree as it did her, then Napoleon’s power over 
 the men would soon be over. In answer she 
 had smiled without offering any explanation. 
 
 He arose and walked to and fro with quick, 
 irregular steps, stopping at last behind her chair, 
 while he slowly and tenderly passed his hand 
 over her hair. 
 
 Apparently Laurette did not feel his touch, 
 for she bent more intently over her letter; but at 
 that moment they were both thinking the same 
 thoughts, though neither was willing to admit 
 the fact. 
 
 Madame Junot drove to Eaiucy that night in 
 the moonlight. After her came the head cook, 
 Richard, leading a whole train of wagons with 
 provisions, table-service, and toilet articles. In 
 the morning, at half-past nine at the latest, the 
 
 163 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 castle should be in perfect order to receive the 
 Princess of Whrtemberg, and it was Madame 
 Juuot’s intention to do all in her power to make 
 the reception as brilliant as possible. She knew 
 that the Emperor would inquire about every de¬ 
 tail, and she wished that his royal sister-in-law 
 shonld get a favorable and lasting impression of 
 French taste and ceremony as soon as she set 
 foot upon Parisian gronnd. 
 
 The Governor’s wife did not have time to sleep 
 many hours that night. Early in the morning 
 her husband came, followed by an Adjutant, 
 to be present at the arrival of the Princess. 
 Madame Junot, already awake, was sitting in 
 bed drinking her chocolate when Junot entered, 
 still in his riding-costume. 
 
 “Let me see if you have dark rings under 
 your eyes. Princess Gracieuse! ’ ’ he said, gaily, 
 as he sat down upon the edge of the bed. “You 
 must not, of all things, look too tired; that 
 would also be reported to his Majesty ! ” 
 
 “ Ah , you need not fear,” she laughed. “He 
 has not as yet forbidden us to paint, thank 
 goodness! ” 
 
 Junot laughed hilariously. “The poor Jo¬ 
 sephine—if that were the case ! ” 
 
 161 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 He started to go, but turned at the door. 
 ^^Tell me—are you quite sure what kind of 
 dress . . . V’ 
 
 Laurette already had one foot out of bed. She 
 made an impatient movement of the hand. 
 
 “Just be quiet, my dear ! As I was able to 
 accustom myself to wearing hoop-skirts in Lis¬ 
 bon without falling upon my nose, neither you 
 nor the Emperor need trouble yourself about my 
 attire. I have heard that in Germany grand 
 toilette is required for an occasion like this; but 
 here ... You know that it is only at the 
 Tuileries that we wear mantle and cherusque. I 
 know the Emperor—he wishes that the Princess 
 shall understand from the first moment that the 
 French court is something exceptional, some¬ 
 thing superior . . . and still just like the rest! ” 
 She laughed. 
 
 Madame Junot had not for a long time felt in 
 such good a humor as to-day. She felt that it 
 was a favor Napoleon had shown them when he 
 entrusted his royal sister-in-law to her and her 
 husband, and she was keenly alive to the honor 
 he had done them and the opportunity the occa¬ 
 sion afforded them. 
 
 While her maids dressed her in her dainty 
 
 165 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 dem i toilette of white silk moire and a toque with 
 white ostrich plumes, she was wondering what 
 the demeanor of the Princess would be. Lau- 
 rette, for her part, was not especially interested 
 in the Princess, for, likeeA^ery one in Napoleon’s 
 old circle, she was disturbed by the Emperor’s 
 decided inclination to make family connections 
 with the old courts; and, besides, she was vexed, 
 as a woman and a Catholic, at the despotic man¬ 
 ner in which he had caused Jerome to dissolve 
 his first marriage, and to treat his young wife 
 and child. She remembered the spring morning 
 two years before, when she and Junot had unex¬ 
 pectedly met young Jerome Bonaparte in a de¬ 
 serted posada near Merida. She thought of their 
 breakfast in the sunny garden, where Jerome, in 
 his despair and sorrow, could speak of nothing 
 but his separation from his “Eliza,” who, by 
 the Emperor’s order, and in spite of her pitiful 
 condition, was not permitted to land at any har¬ 
 bor of France, Holland, Spain, Portugal, or 
 Italy. 
 
 At that time Eliza was on her way to England, 
 while he, going to his brother, implored him for 
 pity on his young wife and unborn child. Ah, 
 yes !—poor little Jerome. He had, perhaps, not 
 
 166 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 been able to resist the temptation of being called 
 imperial or royal highness, with a view to a 
 crown and the hand of a princess . . . Madame 
 Junot smiled a little maliciously, while she 
 buttoned her long, white gloves, at the thought 
 of the love-meeting she should soon witness 
 between the i^laymate of her childhood and 
 his royal bride. “1 wonder if he remembers 
 the posada on Estremadura’s perfumed flower 
 field!” 
 
 Princess Catherine of Wiirtemberg was at this 
 time about twenty-five years of age. She had 
 parted with her German attendants a few days 
 before, and now felt very strange among all these 
 unknown French people who surrounded her. 
 She was small of stature, stout, and cpxite awk¬ 
 ward ; but she had a ixretty, open, bright face, 
 which, on account of the intense August heat 
 and her painful position, was extremely red 
 under the high and somewhat old-fashioned 
 coift’ure. 
 
 Madame Junot approached the Princess rather 
 formally, for, Parisian as she was to her finger¬ 
 tips, she surveyed her royal guest critically. 
 Her costume—Madame Junot saw that at once 
 —was much too antediluvian even for a German 
 
 167 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Princess ! Who would have the front of a dress 
 draped with a “ Mathilde^^ nowadays? Who 
 would wear such tight, smooth sleeves? They 
 reminded one of the Marie Antoinette fashion. 
 And such a train ! In Paris the Princess from 
 Stuttgart would look like a lady from the 
 provinces. 
 
 The demeanor of the Princess, though forced 
 and often painfully uncertain, was proud and 
 dignified. She was exceedingly gracious toward 
 her hostess and the young matrons whom the 
 Emperor had selected for her court ladies. Her 
 color changed every moment; and though she 
 tried hard to control herself, it was visible to 
 all that she was in an embarrassing position 
 among so many strange persons; and she had a 
 dreadful anticipation of being soon taken by her 
 bridegroom (who, according to her standards, 
 was already married), and of being introduced to 
 the Bonaparte family. 
 
 ^‘Well, Madame la Gouveniante, what do you 
 say to my little sovereign ? ’ ’ whispered Marshal 
 Bessieres, who was acting for Prince Jerome in 
 meeting the Princess. And he looked smilingly 
 through his cross-eyes at her Highness, who, 
 with stiff grace, was receiving the compliments 
 
 168 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 of the persons whom her lady in attendance, 
 Madame de Lugay, presented. 
 
 The Governor’s wife turned slowly around and 
 looked up into Bessieres’ face. She bit her lip 
 and shrugged her shoulders slightly, while she 
 answered : 
 
 ^‘She does not scare me, dear Marshal, espe¬ 
 cially in that costume! Could you really not have 
 given her a hint as to the fashion in Paris I Of 
 course, it had to be so; but don’t you think the 
 artist could have made that a little smaller ? ” 
 she said, with an ironical glance at the enormous 
 miniature portrait of Prince Jerome which, in a 
 setting of diamonds, hung from the Princess’ 
 necklace and dangled to and fro on her bosom at 
 the least movement. “It is a pity that she is 
 obliged to show herself before them all in this 
 manner.” 
 
 “A hint? Dear Madame Junot! And you 
 have a little experience yourself in regard to 
 royal highnesses. Did it ever occur to you to 
 let the Princess of Brazil know that she looked 
 like. . . ? Well, I don’t understand much 
 about ladies’ costumes, but Jerome does, unfor¬ 
 tunately. This much I do know : you cannot 
 joke with her Highness.” 
 
 169 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “Indeed!” Madame Junot was now very 
 much interested. 
 
 “Yes, just imagine. . . . When we went 
 through that barbaric wedding ceremony, you 
 know—well, I thought that the occasion re¬ 
 quired that I, as representative of the groom, 
 should say something—something funny, to show 
 we were not at all duped by the queer old 
 ceremony. I wished her to see that we, as 
 sensible and modern people should, took it all at 
 what it was worth—a tradition, and a custom 
 which we were forced to follow. But she . . . 
 del! ’ ’ 
 
 ‘' What did she say ? ’ ’ 
 
 “She gave me a rebuff so sharp and unex¬ 
 pected that I don’t yet know what she meant. 
 And what I said, I assure you, was really most 
 innocent.” 
 
 “Oh, but you are too hard upon her, good 
 friend,” said Madame Junot, suddenly springing 
 to her defense. “She is naturally very irritable 
 under the present circumstances, and must con¬ 
 stantly be on her guard. She is, indeed, in a 
 trying situation. But she can be agreeable if she 
 wishes. See how she smiles at her father’s min¬ 
 ister, Herr von Wintzingrode ! ” 
 
 170 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Bessieres shook his head. 
 
 “Yes, poor child! Will it uot be amusing to 
 hear what the Grand Duchess of Berg—and 
 especially the Princess Stephanie—will have to 
 say about her ? ’ ’ 
 
 “You will be sure to hear-that, if it is really 
 so important to you,” answered the Governor’s 
 wife, a little dryly. 
 
 The Princess expressed a wish to dine with 
 the other ladies, and she accordingly joined them 
 in the beautiful library, where an elobarate re¬ 
 past was served. As the Princess was expect¬ 
 ing the arrival of Prince Jerome soon after din¬ 
 ner, she begged Madame Junot, if it were possi¬ 
 ble, to let her know a little beforehand of the ar¬ 
 rival of his Highness. An Adjutant, armed 
 with a field-glass, was therefore stationed at the 
 gate to watch the long avenue of poplars, ready 
 to report the first glimpse of the Prince and his 
 suite. 
 
 As the time drew near seven o’clock, Princess 
 Catherine’s nervousness and anxiety became more 
 noticeable. When Madame Junot saw how un¬ 
 happy she was, she forgot her prejudice against 
 her, and hurried to ask whether the Adjutant 
 
 171 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 had not as yet announced anything. But when 
 she opened the door into the large dining-room, 
 where Junot presided at the gentlemen’s dinner, 
 she was met with such peals of laughter that she 
 lost the heart to put her question. It was ap¬ 
 parent that Junot, Bessieres, and the rest who 
 were interested in neither Jerome’s first nor 
 second wife, considered the visit of the Princess 
 to Eaincy only as a capital occasion to feast and 
 to renew old acquaintance and mutual memories 
 of the campaign. 
 
 So, turning from the revel, she quickly threw 
 a shawl over her shoulders and walked across the 
 lawn to the Eussian Pavilon, where the poor 
 exiled Adjutant, M. de Grandsaigne, was dining 
 all alone, his field-glass on the table before him. 
 
 '^Sister Anna, sister Anna, seest thou any one 
 coming ? ’ ’ she called, gayly, as she put her hands 
 up to her mouth as a trumpet. 
 
 “I see, oh, mistress, but the grass which is 
 a-greening and the sun which is a-shining! ” 
 laughingly answered the young aristocrat, de¬ 
 lighted at the prospect of company. 
 
 Madame Junot stood for a moment holding the 
 door-posts of the pavilion, while she swayed 
 lightly to and fro on her heels. She laughed. 
 
 172 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 though with a bad conscience for joking over 
 such a serious matter, while the poor Princess 
 sat in agony within. Then shading her eyes with 
 her hand, she gazed down the avenue. 
 
 ‘‘You see but poorly, sister Anna! There is 
 the dust-cloud, and in the midst of it Sir Blue¬ 
 beard himself.” 
 
 Monsieur de Grandsaigne, looking at her with 
 big eyes, burst into a jolly laugh, in which she 
 joined him when she caught the full force of her 
 own joke. 
 
 “Hasten to my husband. Monsieur de Grand- 
 saigne, and tell him that the Prince will be here 
 in a minute. I shall go to her Highness.” 
 
 The gentlemen hurriedly left the table and 
 gathered, with the ladies, in the billiard-room, 
 while Junot hastened to receive the Prince and 
 his suite. 
 
 The Princess, alone in the large center salon, 
 suddenly became calm as she stood there in her 
 studied position, at the side of the chair reserved 
 for the Prince. All could easily watch her 
 movements, for the two salons were divided only 
 by a row of pillars. 
 
 Jerome Bonaparte was dressed in the custom¬ 
 ary salon costume worn by French princes: 
 
 173 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 white cashmere knee-breeches, and silk dress 
 coat a la frangaise, with the large decoration of 
 the Legion of Honor over his breast. Thus at¬ 
 tired, he entered alone from the music-room, 
 where his suite remained, and quickly walked 
 toward the Princess, who took a few steps to 
 meet him. 
 
 They greeted each other in a few words which, 
 however, were spoken in too low a tone for the 
 ladies and gentlemen in the billiard-room to hear 
 them. 
 
 The Prince then sat for a moment in the chair 
 beside his bride, as had been previously ar¬ 
 ranged. He asked her a few questions in regard 
 to her journey, and after that arose. 
 
 “My brother awaits us,” he said, loudly, so 
 that all could hear it. “He is impatient to 
 greet his new sister, whom he already prizes 
 highly.” 
 
 Princess Catherine smiled—it was always the 
 same forced and dignified smile—and lightly 
 followed her husband to the entrance of the 
 music-room. But scarcely had she passed the 
 door when she changed color, swayed, and, 
 with a painful sigh, raised her hand to her 
 heart. 
 
 174 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “She is fainting!” exclaimed Madame de 
 Lugay. “ Get water and eau de Cologne ! ” 
 
 The indisposition did not last long, for the 
 young Princess almost immediately opened her 
 eyes again. 
 
 “ Oh, I am so tired ! ” she said, in a natural, 
 complaining voice—“so tired after the jour¬ 
 ney,” she added. 
 
 “ Your Highness ” (Bessieres approached her, 
 bowing with hat in hand), “the carriages are 
 waiting; but if your Highness wishes to post¬ 
 pone the journey . . .” 
 
 “No, no!” She arose, hurriedly; she was 
 anxious to put an end to her martyrdom. 
 
 “Madame Junot”—she turned to her hostess 
 with the forced, stereotyped smile which was so 
 very unbecoming to her pretty, honest face—“I 
 assure you I shall never forget Rainey and your 
 hospitality. It will always remind me of some 
 of the most agreeable moments of my life.” 
 
 Madame Junot made a courtesy and kissed 
 the Princess’ hand. This time her deep obei¬ 
 sance was sincere. She comprehended, at that 
 moment, the bitter, cruel humilities which this 
 stranger, daughter of a strange king, had suf¬ 
 fered during these few hours here in her home. 
 
 175 
 
XIV 
 
 Ma sant6 n’a jamais 6t6 si bonne — 
 tenement que je suis devenu plus galant 
 que par le passfi. 
 
 NAPOLfiON. 
 
 (Lettre an roi Joseph 1807.) 
 
 HE Empeeor of late had shown the 
 Governor’s wife marked attention; it 
 looked as though he wished to deny 
 all rumors of Juuot’s disgrace. His long talk 
 with her at the festival at the Hotel de Ville had 
 been noticed and commented upon, and every¬ 
 body was talking about the very great favor 
 which had been shown them when she and her 
 husband had been selected to receive the new 
 Queen of Westphalia. Napoleon had, besides— 
 some said as thanks for her hospitality at Eaincy 
 —recently sent Madame Junot magnificent bou¬ 
 quets and rare plants from the imperial hot¬ 
 houses. And now, at the last grand ball Avhich 
 the Grand Duchess gave at ^llys6e in honor of 
 King Jerome’s wedding, he had again been ex¬ 
 ceptionally courteous and had held a long con- 
 
 176 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 versation with her. The other ladies of the 
 court—most of whom were awed and scared by 
 the Emperor to such a degree that they were 
 at their wits’ ends when they were obliged to 
 answer his abrupt questions—commenced to 
 show themselves very envious of Madame Junot. 
 She could joke and laugh and be perfectly nat¬ 
 ural with her quick repartee, and she often suc¬ 
 ceeded in awakening upon the Emperor’s lips 
 that pretty, bright smile which was so tempt¬ 
 ingly tender. 
 
 Madame Junot, for her part, did not avoid 
 the Emperor, nor did she make any special effort 
 to attract his attention. She had, as well as he, 
 V esprit deprmcipaute in a high degree. It amused 
 her to be, and to be considered to be, the first 
 lady in a salon, and she never avoided a success. 
 But, on the other hand, she was not anxious to 
 become the target for the court gossip which she 
 felt had already begun to occupy itself a great 
 deal with her. The Emperor approached her 
 this evening at the Grand Duchess’ ball, after he 
 had been a silent observer of the first dance from 
 his throne, and she noticed the hurried, mali¬ 
 cious discretion with which those near them 
 withdrew from hearing to give them an oppor- 
 
 177 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 tunity for a tSte-h-Ute. She felt, in spite of be¬ 
 ing used to the stage of society, that her blush 
 suffused her neck as well as her cheeks. 
 
 This unfortunate blush capped the climax; it 
 was commented upon even more than the conver¬ 
 sation itself, which lasted but a few moments. 
 The Governor’s wife blushed ! She, who was 
 usually impertinently self-possessed ! Perhaps 
 out of malice. Princess Pauline, who was not a 
 specially clever observer, called her sister Caro¬ 
 line’s attention, pointing with her fan toward 
 the other end of the hall where Madame Junot, 
 with downcast eyes, was just then making a 
 deep obeisance before his Majesty. She noted, 
 too, how graciously he patted her blushing 
 cheek when they parted. 
 
 “Bonaparte begins to pay attention to the 
 ladies—at least, to one of them ! Perhaps he 
 thinks that Junot is too much engrossed else¬ 
 where to notice it.” 
 
 The Grand Duchess of Berg betrayed no in¬ 
 terest in the episode, nor did she intend to let 
 Pauline suspect her game, as she answered, 
 dryly : 
 
 “Laurette has always had great opportunities 
 with the Emperor—she looks so much like Sig- 
 
 178 
 
The Governor's Wife 
 
 nora Panoria! If she were not so stubborn, she 
 could have made her fortune long ago. And 
 now she is more beantifnl than ever . . 
 
 Then she stopped, gazed in front of her a lit¬ 
 tle absent-mindedly, and smiled faintly. 
 
 ‘^It is a great temptation, though,” she 
 sighed, with a moral, sentimental shake of the 
 head. “Who knows whether she can resist it? 
 Poor Junot! ” 
 
 “Yes, poor Junot!” sighed Pauline, pity¬ 
 ingly. “ But he has his opportunities, too.” 
 
 After this soliloquy Princess Caroline rose to 
 go; but she stood for a moment on the steps 
 that led from the platform on which the two 
 ladies sat. She lifted the train of her dress with 
 regal dignity, and with a gracious movement 
 turned her beautiful head toward her sister. 
 
 “So you still remember that old love story? 
 Dear Pauline, you are really more faithful than 
 I shonld have thought you ! ’ ’ And then she 
 softly added a sisterly warning: “But you 
 should not speak too loudly about your weak¬ 
 ness for him.” 
 
 Princess Borghese was so indignant at this 
 that she conld not, for a moment, find words to 
 answer. 
 
 179 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 The Grand Duchess, with proud bearing, 
 stepped down the purple-covered steps. 
 
 The Grand Duchess of Berg and Oleve regu¬ 
 larly received her most intimate friends every 
 forenoon in her so-called “little” salon. It 
 was a large, gorgeous room, which Percier and 
 Fontaine had lately redecorated with blue silk 
 coverings for the walls and with gilded lambre¬ 
 quins. The furniture, all new and in the splen¬ 
 did style of the Empire, was also richly gilded 
 and covered with blue brocaded silk. The 
 curtains at the large windows were also of blue 
 brocade, embroidered with golden bees and 
 branches of laurel. 
 
 After the return from Tilsit^ and ever since 
 Talleyrand was elected Vice-Grand Electeur, 
 and, as such, was one of the great dignitaries of 
 the country, both Murat and his wife had plainly 
 made great efforts to gain his friendship and in¬ 
 timate acquaintance. The Prince of B6nevent, 
 as Talleyrand was known, was always affable ; 
 but he preserved, even in his relation to the 
 Emperor’s own family, his usual smooth, im¬ 
 penetrable manner, which often appeared a lit¬ 
 tle careless. He had always treated Murat in- 
 
 180 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 dilferently—in accordance with the manner with 
 which Napoleon himself treated him. It would 
 also be wrong to say that Murat felt himself 
 especially attracted to Talleyrand; but his wife, 
 the Princess, by whom he was entirely guided, 
 in spite of his frequent brutality toward her, 
 never tired of explaining to him how important 
 it was for their plans to have Talleyrand on their 
 side. He was the only one, as far as foreign 
 politics was concerned, who had any influence at 
 all with Napoleon. 
 
 On the other hand, Caroline always won from 
 Talleyrand not only the homage due her as 
 sister of the Emperor, but also his sincere ad¬ 
 miration for her as a very beautiful woman. 
 They agreed well whenever they met, and 
 they found a deal of amusement in bargaining 
 with each other for the crowns of Europe. 
 Each understood the other thoroughly, and each 
 played the game with great gusto—as a joke, 
 of course. 
 
 On the morning following the ball, his High¬ 
 ness, the Prince of Benevent, was ealling upon 
 her Highness, the Duchess of Berg and Cleve. 
 The clear, sharp light of the September day, 
 reflected in bluish tints from the hangings and 
 
 181 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 furniture, could not dim the incomparable 
 freshness of the Princess, who was arrayed in 
 an Oriental costume and a loose jacket of rose- 
 colored velvet; in fact, she looked quite as 
 charming as she did the evening before at the 
 ball. She sat now with both elbows resting 
 upon the little bronze-trimmed table, which 
 stood beside her lounge, and played carelessly 
 with her rings. 
 
 “The Grand Duke complains about your 
 Highness,” she said, smilingly, as she looked 
 up at Talleyrand. “He insists. . .” 
 
 “That Monsieur de Talleyrand ‘ne veut pas 
 queje sois roue! ’ ” interrupted Talleyrand, with 
 a jolly imitation of Murat’s voice and his south¬ 
 ern accent. 
 
 The Princess involuntarily drew her rounded 
 chin in a little. But she did not think it ad¬ 
 visable to show that she thought he had gone 
 to© far, s© she shrugged her shoulders with a 
 smile. 
 
 “Yes, dear Prince, he says so, and it seems 
 that he is not so very much mistaken. . . . But 
 you, who have influence with his Majesty . . . 
 why do you oppose our wishes, which are only in 
 accordance with those of the people of Poland ? ’ ’ 
 182 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘‘Your Imperial Highness, it is a little diffi¬ 
 cult to speak about these things—sincerely— 
 without, at the same time, hurting your tender- 
 est and holiest feelings. ’ ’ He was silent. 
 
 “Ah,” said the Princess, dryly, “when one 
 speaks to me about business, I always make my 
 feelings, even the holy ones, secondary. It is 
 my duty, as Duchess. You were going to 
 say! . . .” 
 
 “I would but say”—Talleyrand slowly 
 opened the cameo lid of his magnificent snuff¬ 
 box, and held the pinch between his fingers 
 for a long time—“I would but say that there 
 are, unfortunatelj^, persons who think that your 
 superior consort, who is so incomparable when 
 it comes to bravery, is not among those who 
 are most capable of ruling the affairs of the 
 country.” 
 
 Caroline had expected this objection. She 
 was thankful that he had spoken so openly, and 
 she leaned gracefully over the little table as she 
 looked at Tallyrand with a long, questioning 
 glance. 
 
 “ But there are others who do understand it. 
 You know that my husband is always open to 
 well-meant advice which I, from time to time. 
 
 183 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 am able to give him. And I, for my part, do 
 appreciate the friendship of which one of the 
 most superior and highly trusted men of the 
 country pleases to consider me worthy. ...” 
 
 The Princess made a pause, letting her eyes 
 rest on Talleyrand’s. Then she smiled, and, ex¬ 
 tending her hand to him over the table, said: 
 
 Monsieur de Talleyrand, I am sincerely 
 thankful for your confidence in me ! ’ ’ 
 
 Talleyrand bent low over the charming little 
 hand, which he kissed. 
 
 At this moment the chamberlain introduced 
 anew guest: ^^His Majesty, the Austrian Em¬ 
 peror’s new Ambassador, Herr von Metternich!” 
 
 The elegant young aristocrat stepped in with 
 graceful dignity. As he approached the Prin¬ 
 cess, who had risen, he made, with natural 
 ease, all the ballet-like courtesies dictated by 
 the French etiquette. Caroline smiled gra¬ 
 ciously as she extended her hand and pointed 
 to a seat. 
 
 Talleyrand remained but a few moments. As 
 he went out, he met General Junot at the door. 
 
 ‘^My dear Governor of Paris,” the Princess 
 exclaimed, as she showed him a seat a little 
 farther away than Metternich’s and spoke with- 
 
 184 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 out looking at him, busying herself with a bot¬ 
 tle of perfume which stood on the table before 
 her, ‘^it is a rare honor to see you ! To what 
 am I to-day indebted for the pleasure of your 
 visit ? ’ ’ 
 
 ‘ ‘ I came to make your Imperial Highness my 
 parting visit—here, at illysee. In a few days— 
 as soon as I have escorted their Majesties to 
 Fontainebleau—the Emperor wishes me to de¬ 
 part for my post in the army.” 
 
 “So sooiil” Caroline stared at him with her 
 large, dark eyes. “I thought that we should at 
 least have the pleasure of your company during 
 the hunting season. It must have been quite 
 suddenly that my brother came to this decision. 
 Perhaps, after the ball, last night . . .” She 
 stopped, bit her lip, and glanced involuntarily 
 at Metternich, as though she were afraid that 
 she had said too much. 
 
 “I do not know when his Majesty made this 
 decision, but I have long been prepared for this 
 departure.” It wus apparent that Junot did 
 not fully understand the Princess’ words. He 
 glanced at the Austrian, to see if it were not his 
 intention to depai t. 
 
 iMetternich, well acquainted with the gossip 
 
 185 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 of the court, made a gesture as though to rise; 
 but the Princess held him back with a glance 
 which could not be misunderstood as she, at 
 the same time, turned again to the Governor of 
 Paris. 
 
 “It looks almost as though he wishes to get 
 rid of you,” she said, laughing mischievously. 
 “Apropos, may I be allowed to compliment 
 you ? Madame Junot was bewitching at my 
 ball last night. She was very generally ad¬ 
 mired. ’ ’ 
 
 Junot knew the Duchess of Berg so well that 
 he instantly divined what she meant; she was 
 trying to divert his attention from herself by 
 making him jealous of the Emperor’s attentions 
 to Laurette. At the same time she insinuated 
 to this strange diplomat, whom she plainly enough 
 was trying to win, a different reason for this de¬ 
 parture to Bayonne from the one which, accord¬ 
 ing to gossip, was supposed to be the most de¬ 
 cisive: a momentary exile, as punishment for a 
 too great intimacy with a certain Imperial 
 Princess. Junot’s face reddened deeply with 
 anger, and he could not speak. 
 
 The Princess was cruelly courageous, for she 
 knew, to a dot, what she wanted and what she 
 
 186 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 was doing. But for once she was scared, know¬ 
 ing, as she did, Junot’s wild impetuosity, and 
 perceiving from the expression of his face how 
 deeply he felt her thrust. She closed her eyes 
 for a second, anxious for his next word, at the 
 same time crushing the little smelling-salt box 
 which hung at her belt. 
 
 Metternich stroked one of his fingers over the 
 gold band on his three-cornered hat as he said 
 slowly, with a slight bow toward Junot: 
 
 “My dear General, may I be permitted to 
 be of the same opinion ? With the exception of 
 our gracious hostess, Madame Junot was, with¬ 
 out doubt, the lady who was most admired at 
 the ball last night.” 
 
 This compliment, spoken by Metternich in an 
 indifferent tone of voice, stopped the passionate 
 answer which already trembled upon Junot’s lips, 
 and gave him that cooling douche of calmness 
 which leaves reason uppermost and in control. 
 He received the compliment in silence, but with 
 a polite bow. 
 
 The Princess now wished that Metternich, 
 whom she had detained with all her power, 
 should go. When she realized the impression 
 her behavior had made upon Junot, the woman 
 
 187 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 in lier awoke; she had been his mistress, she 
 had loved him—yes, it seemed to her at this 
 moment as though she loved him still! When 
 she saw him, so proud, so self-controlled and 
 manly, she could not bear the thought that they 
 shoirld part in this manner. 
 
 Junot leaned back in his chair in a non¬ 
 chalant manner, his head held proudly and out¬ 
 lined superbly against his loosely hanging dol¬ 
 man. To the Princess, covertly watching him, 
 the white scar on his temple became more 
 marked—the scar of which he was so proud. 
 In her innermost soul she already suspected the 
 contempt and coldness which now was following 
 his anger against her, and. Imperial and Eoyal 
 Princess though she was, she would have thrown 
 herself on her knees before her lover had not 
 Herr von Metternich been present. She longed 
 for his angry and upbraiding words, and once 
 more for the mastery he had exercised. 
 
 No wonder, then, that Princess Caroline 
 breathed heavily and with difficulty; that she 
 pressed her hand against her heart, while the 
 flush on her cheeks slowly increased and spread. 
 For some moments no one spoke. The Gov¬ 
 ernor arose to go. 
 
 188 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “ Your Imperial Highness ! ’ ’ He bowed with 
 correct respectfulness before the Princess. 
 
 Caroline arose. 
 
 “Dear Junot,” she said, in a low voice, “I 
 am sorry that you must depart so soon. ...” 
 She searched for words while she graciously fol¬ 
 lowed him a few steps. “We shall meet again 
 —if not before, then at Fontaineblau—shall we 
 not?” 
 
 Junot made another bow, in answer to the 
 glance which the Princess, unnoticed by Metter- 
 nich, sent him. Then he left her presence, and 
 walked rapidly through the anteroom, scarcely 
 acknowledging the salutes of the bowing cava¬ 
 liers. 
 
 Princess Caroline talked for a long time with 
 Herr von Metternich, while the cavaliers in the 
 anteroom drew their own conclusions from the 
 unusual incidents of the morning. 
 
 189 
 
XV 
 
 Ici (a. Paris) seulement de tous les 
 lieux de la terre les femmes mSritent 
 de tenir le gouvernail . . . Une femme 
 a besoin de six mois de Paris pour 
 connatire ce qui lui est du, est quel est 
 son empire. 
 
 Napol6on 
 
 (Correspondance de I’Empereur). 
 
 II fallait pour lui rfeister qu’une 
 femme aimat ailleurs, car il n’est pas 
 de raison, il n’est pas de vertu a, 
 I’epreuve d’une semblable seduction. 
 
 Mme. JuNOT 
 (de Napoleon). 
 
 HERE is madame ? ’ ’ demanded the Gov¬ 
 ernor of Paris, as he opened the door 
 to his wife’s waiting-room. 
 
 “ Madame, monsignenr ? . . . Madame is just 
 receiving his Excellence, the Grand Marshal,” 
 replied the lackey, rising sleepily from his din¬ 
 ner nap. 
 
 That is good,” said the Governor of Paris, 
 moving impatiently and quickly through the 
 room to her reception-room. 
 
 In the chair at her desk sat Laurette. Her 
 elbow rested against the golden lyre on the 
 
 190 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 back of the chair, and her face, in charming 
 silhouette against the strong light from the 
 window, was turned with interest toward 
 Duroc, who was slowly walking up and down 
 the room, when her husband abruptly stepped 
 through the door, dark as a thunder-cloud. 
 She peeped up at him in surprise. But with¬ 
 out speaking Junot flung himself upon a 
 chair by the window, nodding indifferently to 
 Duroc. 
 
 ‘‘For God’s sake, Junot,” they both cried, 
 “what is the matter? ” 
 
 “Ah, nothing!” But immediately after he 
 exclaimed, impetuously: 
 
 “Duroc may just as well hear it. Tell me, 
 Laurette, what in the world is it”—he arose 
 and stepped to his wife—“what is it that 
 people are saying about you — and — about 
 him 1 ’ ’ 
 
 They both knew that when Junot said “him,” 
 with that accentuation, he meant Napoleon. 
 
 ‘ ‘ About me and the Emperor ? ’ ’ Laurette 
 began to laugh. “My goodness! Here is 
 Duroc, and he was just telling me the most 
 touching stories about Napoleon and a certain 
 Madame Walewski. And in the Tuileries they 
 
 191 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 chatter constantly about his attentions to 
 Madame Gazani! Wliat are they now saying 
 about me in Paris? . . . Napoleon’s empire is 
 Europe, but I did not think his heart was so 
 roomy. ’ ’ 
 
 Junot was silent; but he noticed the glance 
 which his wife gave Duroe, and he felt con¬ 
 vinced, at that same moment, that they had 
 not devoted all their conversation to the Polish 
 Countess whom she had mentioned. 
 
 Duroc drew near Madame Junot and smil¬ 
 ingly shook his finger at her. ‘ ‘ But, madame, 
 I thought you so discreet that I might entrust 
 to you the state secret which I confided to you. 
 But quite apart from the fact that you have 
 lost my secret, you should not be so sure that 
 Madame Walewski does not interest him any 
 longer. She was in high favor at Warsaw and 
 Finkenstein, but . . .” He shrugged his 
 shoulders. ‘^She was too monotonous, too 
 meek—no charm, no esprit! She did not un¬ 
 derstand how to amuse him sufficiently, and 
 she bothered him with politics. Besides, she 
 was not a Parisienue—only a Frenchwoman 
 could have completely enthralled the Em¬ 
 peror.” 
 
 192 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘‘And now, perhaps, he has found one who 
 can enthral him!” interrupted Junot, iron¬ 
 ically. 
 
 Duroc turned toward him. “No, my friend, 
 I do not believe that possible now. Since the 
 Emperor ceased to care for Josephine, he has 
 loved but once. That was during the Con¬ 
 sulate. Now—now Napoleon has but one true 
 love—France ! ’ ’ 
 
 “Yes, that all sounds very pretty,” said 
 Junot, dryly. He bent forward and took his 
 wife firmly by the arm as he forced her to look 
 up at him. “Have yoii more confidence in 
 Duroc than in me, Laurette?” he asked, ten¬ 
 derly upbraiding her. 
 
 “Confidence? I have nothing to confide to 
 any one. Dear me, I suppose it will end by 
 their saying that Duroc is my lover ! ’ ’ 
 
 “Madame” (Duroc laid his hand on his 
 heart), “I have never dared to aim so high; 
 but may I now hoi)e, when Junot has de¬ 
 parted ...” 
 
 They all laughed. Junot placed his arm 
 around his wife’s waist, and extended the other 
 hand to his friend. 
 
 “I know it is folly,” he said, still laughing. 
 
 193 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “ I am a fool to take it so to heart; but people 
 must not comment upon my Laure! Take good 
 care of her, Duroc, while I am away.” 
 
 “Yon had better entrust her to some one 
 else,” laughed Duroc. “As you have heard, 
 I am not to be trusted. Apply to another of 
 madame’s admirers—Murat, for example ! ” 
 
 The Governor reddened to the roots of his 
 hair. Without saying a word, he drew his arm 
 away from his wife’s waist, and walked slowly 
 out of the room. 
 
 “Duroc, how could you?” Madame Junot 
 passed him, blamingly, and started to follow 
 her husband. 
 
 “I beg of you, madame ... I give you my 
 word of honor that I had no other thought with 
 my words!” But now, in his anxiety, he 
 grasped her hand and held her almost forcibly 
 back, while he lowered his voice. “May I 
 give you some good advice? Do not follow 
 him; let him alone. A wife ought not to see 
 her husband blush. ’ ’ 
 
 Madame Junot smiled ironically, without 
 answering. Duroc bent down with respect and 
 kissed the strong little hand which tried to tear 
 itself away. 
 
 194 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “And now,” he said, slowly, as he carefully 
 led her back to her seat, her hand still in his, 
 “tell me what you were going to say when your 
 husband came in. You have often called me 
 your brother—consider me as such now.” 
 
 Duroc looked devotedly at her and inquired; 
 
 “Pray, how is it that you have never before 
 told me about this old story from Mal- 
 maison? . . .” 
 
 “Ah!” (she looked down as she sat, and 
 turned the rings on her fingers) “it did not 
 amount to much, and then came the stay at the 
 camp in Boulogne and our departure to Portu¬ 
 gal, and then ... I have scarcely seen the 
 Emperor until now.” 
 
 “And now?” 
 
 Madame Junot smiled, and shrugged her 
 shoulders. “I have only told you the begin¬ 
 ning of the story: how he used to come into 
 my room and read his mail every morning at 
 four o’clock . . . That was compromising, 
 was it not, with all those papers on the floor 
 marked ‘ To the First Consul, personal—to him 
 alone ’ ? Almost a whole week passed in this 
 manner. ’ ’ 
 
 “ And didn’t he say very much ? ” 
 
 195 
 
The Governor's Wife 
 
 Yes, lie talked a good deal—you kMOTv how 
 sentimental and how ironical he can be at the 
 same time. So, naturally enough, I never really 
 knew what he meant. And whenever he left me 
 he would pinch my nose and ruffle my hair.” 
 
 ‘‘But Junot?” 
 
 “ Junot! He commanded Paris then, and did 
 not know a word of it; Josephine was in Plom- 
 bieres, as you remember ; and you ?—you were 
 far away, somewhere in Lorraine. Madame 
 Louis'? Well, I was so young I was too bashful 
 to say anything to Madame Louis. But she un¬ 
 derstood it all, just the same.” 
 
 Duroc sighed. He often did that when the 
 talk was about Hortense. 
 
 “Then Junot dined at Malmaison one even¬ 
 ing. He was to go back the same evening — 
 you know the Commander of Paris is never 
 allowed to leave his post. But, yes, I got 
 him up to my room to say good-night — and 
 of course I did not let him go!” she said, 
 quickly, and with superiority. “But when 
 I heard Bonaparte come to my door in the 
 morning, then ... I am not easily frightened, 
 but then I wished I were hundreds of miles 
 away.” 
 
 196 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘‘Did lie say anything—the First Consult” 
 
 “ He looked at me, and then he smiled. And 
 such a smile! He saw through it immediately; 
 then he became angry, and mocked me because 
 I had been afraid.” 
 
 “But Junot, Junot? . . . What did he say 
 when he saw Bonaparte in your room? ” 
 
 “He only laughed. Not a suspicion ever oc¬ 
 curred to him—at that time! You know well 
 enough his idea of friendship and the sacred 
 ties that bind friends.” 
 
 “But did he not think Napoleon’s presence 
 peculiar?” asked Duroc, doubtfully. 
 
 “Ah, at that time! . . . We had as good as 
 no etiquette, and the First Consul said that he 
 had promised to wake me for the hunt. Be¬ 
 sides, he commenced to upbraid Junot at once 
 because he had remained away from his post 
 without permission. He is equal to all emer¬ 
 gencies.” 
 
 “ Do you think that he was angry with you? ” 
 Duroc arose and walked up to her. 
 
 “Yes. And he would have despised me had 
 it been different. He did not care for me even 
 then, little as he does now ! ’ ’ 
 
 They were both silent for a few moments. 
 
 197 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Then Madame Junot said, suddenly, as she laid 
 both hands upon Duroc’s breast: 
 
 “Dnroc, my friend, tell me honestly—it has 
 always worried me, and I have never dared to 
 speak to any one about it—do you think that 
 it could have been for such an incident as this 
 . . . that it was my fault that Junot was not 
 made a Marshal at the Coronation ? ’ ’ 
 
 ‘‘But, madame!” exclaimed Duroc, depre- 
 catingly. 
 
 “Ah, I know what you will say ...” She 
 let her arms drop and turned half around. ‘ ‘ But 
 he is not always just—he has never been so,” 
 she continued, sighing. 
 
 “Madame Junot, you must not think such 
 things. You are misjudging the Emperor 
 greatly,” said Duroc, sternly. 
 
 She threw her head back, and again looked up 
 defiantly with her large brown eyes. 
 
 “Because I say that he is not always just? 
 Ah! read his bulletins of last winter, and then 
 speak with Lannes and Ney! You know his 
 ‘justice’ as well as I—yes, a thousand times 
 better. ’ ’ 
 
 Duroc smiled, and again caught the small, 
 restless hands. 
 
 198 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “Now, for the first time, I realize that the 
 Emperor is right: you are, indeed, the greatest 
 rebel in his kingdom, Madame Laurette ! ” 
 
 “I? I who, at this moment, would give him 
 my life if he demanded it in the name of 
 France ! ’ ’ 
 
 “He knows that, well.” 
 
 “ Yes, he knows that! . . . Ah, Duroc, ad¬ 
 mit that my position is really difficult. I dare 
 not hurt him for Junot’s sake ; on the other 
 hand, I cannot confide in Junot. You know how 
 he is—‘ The Tempest, ’ as you all call him—he 
 fears nothing; and he would immediately de¬ 
 mand an explanation from the Emperor himself. 
 But his position is already so compromised. 
 
 . . . Ah, I dare not think of it! ” 
 
 “For God’s sake!” exclaimed Duroc, now 
 frightened. “He is a hothead, a daredevil! 
 
 . . , And you”—he bent down over her as 
 he turned her face toward his, with brotherly 
 tenderness—“ you love him, my friend ! ” 
 
 Laurette looked up. Her beautiful eyes 
 beamed with a moist gleam. She smilingly laid 
 her hand upon Duroc’s lips. 
 
 “ He is his friend’s best friend and his own 
 worst enemy ! ” she said, with a proud woman’s 
 
 199 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 warmtli and admiration for her loved one’s dar¬ 
 ing and knightly unselfishness. '‘Even the 
 Emperor, should he he in danger, would turn 
 to Junot again, as he did at Marseilles. And 
 you—and I—I ...” She covered her face 
 with both hands. 
 
 Duroc walked a step backward ; he bowed low 
 and respectfully. 
 
 "Madame! My friend! . . . Now go to 
 your husband. ’ ’ 
 
 Every evening her Majesty held her cercle 
 in the Tuileries. In this, all those who had dif¬ 
 ferent grades of les entrees, which meant the 
 Princes and Princesses of the imperial family, 
 the foreign noblemen who were in Paris, the 
 Marshals, Ministers, dignitaries and high officials 
 of the country, and most of the military and 
 civil court functionaries—all these were present, 
 with ladies, without special invitation. Those 
 who had a right to these evenings walked 
 through the anteroom and knocked, without 
 further ceremony, at the door to the salon. The 
 chamberlain in attendance announced them, and 
 the Emperor himself said : 
 
 " Come in !” 
 
 200 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 A lady would quietly sit down, after she had 
 made her obeisances, to which usually not much 
 attention was paid. A gentleman placed him¬ 
 self just as quietly along the wall by the side of 
 those who had come before him. The Emperor, 
 who always liked to be in action, walked up and 
 down the room, as a rule, stopping to talk to one 
 or another, or sometimes to himself, engrossed 
 in one of those long monologues which he loved 
 and often preferred to conversation with others. 
 The Empress was almost always too engrossed 
 with checkers, a game of which she was a mas¬ 
 ter, playing with one or another of the gentle¬ 
 men whom she had selected beforehand for her 
 opponent. 
 
 The ladies who were not otherwise engaged 
 played lotto in the adjoining salon. The gentle¬ 
 men would converse among themselves, while 
 they anxiously waited for the Emperor to favor 
 one or another of them. This happened very 
 seldom, however, as he preferred to talk with the 
 ladies at these evening parties. 
 
 Scarcely had the Governor’s wife entered and 
 taken her seat, when his Majesty observed her 
 and directed his steps toward the corner where 
 she sat. 
 
 201 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Meanwhile people began to whisper, in ear¬ 
 nest, that the Governor’s wife unquestionably 
 was on the royal f-oad to la haute faveur. 
 
 ‘‘How is the boy, my godson that is to be, 
 Madame Junot ? ’ ’ He pinched her ear. ‘ ‘ E'ow 
 I shall have two little Junots to look out for. 
 Apropos, Madame Laurette, whom have you 
 thought of for godmother ? ’ ’ 
 
 ‘‘Her Majesty, the Empress, I hope . . .” 
 
 Napoleon turned on her that searching, pene¬ 
 trating glance which she now knew so well. 
 
 “The Empress? Yes? But why not my 
 mother ? ’ ’ Their glances met; they were both 
 silent. Then she said, with decision: 
 
 “With your permission. Sire, and if her 
 Majesty does not object, I wish that it be the 
 Empress. ’ ’ 
 
 Napoleon smiled almost unnoticeably, with a 
 slight shrug of the shoulders. 
 
 “ As you wish it, Madame Junot. You may 
 speak to Josephine about it.” 
 
 Madame Junot understood both the smile and 
 the shrug of the shoulders, which brought the 
 conversation to a sudden close. “Poor Jose¬ 
 phine !” she thought, as she watched the Em¬ 
 peror move silently away. “ I am afraid I have 
 
 202 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 been a poor diplomat; but no one shall say that 
 I have left the sinking ship.” 
 
 As a special favor, before his nearing depar¬ 
 ture, the Empress invited Junot to a game of 
 checkers. She bent lower over the checker¬ 
 board as she said, softly: 
 
 “His Majesty now occupies himself very 
 much with Madame Junot. Have you noticed 
 it?” 
 
 Junot smiled. His attention had already 
 been called to this by others. 
 
 Josephine looked up, her beautiful mild eyes 
 gleaming with unusual earnestness under the 
 strongly painted brow. 
 
 “ And you are going away, Junot? ” 
 
 “Yes, your Majesty, in a few days. The 
 army awaits me.” He spoke quietly. 
 
 “ You—you are not a little anxious about this 
 state of affairs? ” 
 
 This time Junot laughed aloud, for he knew 
 how nervous and suspicious Josephine had be¬ 
 come of late, on account of rumors and threats 
 of divorce which constantly rang in her ears. If 
 the Emperor looked twice at the same woman 
 she became restless and jealous. 
 
 203 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘‘Your Majesty,” he said, as he bent over her 
 hand (she was just moving a piece on the 
 board), “my confidence in his Majesty is, in 
 every way, unbounded.” 
 
 The old circle, as a relic of the simple ways of 
 the Directorate and the Consulate, still preserved 
 a certain off-hand manner toward the Empress 
 when her husband was not present; and Junot, 
 especially since their mutual journey to Italy in 
 ’96, when he and Josephine for a whole month 
 occupied the same coach, always addressed her 
 with frank directness. 
 
 “Should all of his Majesty’s generals become 
 ‘ anxious ’ upon departing from home, when it 
 pleased him to send them to war, discipline in 
 our army would soon be at an end.” 
 
 Josephine forced a smile upon her tightly 
 pressed lips as she replied : 
 
 “You can understand, dear Junot, that I am 
 but joking. I wished only to know whether 
 you had also heard this absurd gossip.” 
 
 Their glances again met; hers was sad and 
 restless. He noticed how old her face had 
 grown (the thickly applied paint could not hide 
 it any longer), and how sunken was the fine 
 mouth. Then he felt pity for this woman whom 
 
 204 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 he had always despised, and had always consid¬ 
 ered unworthy of her proud position. The mo¬ 
 ment was now approaching, judging from all 
 indications, which he and so many others of 
 Napoleon’s war-fellows longed for—the moment 
 for the divorce from a sterile and unfaithful 
 wife. And now, for the first time, it dawned 
 upon him that this, Napoleon’s divorce from 
 Josephine, also meant divorce from all the old 
 times: from the memories of Italy, of Egypt, and 
 the Consulate—from all the i^eriod which she 
 represented. Over the gracefully bowed head 
 of the Empress he could see the young Queen of 
 Westphalia at the other end of the salon. She 
 was dignified, foreign, and correct to her finger¬ 
 tips, as with her stereotyped, meaningless smile 
 she accepted the compliments of the French 
 gentlemen whose names she tried in vain to re¬ 
 member. . . . 
 
 The game was finished. The Governor of 
 Paris arosa and bowed deeply. As the Empress 
 looked up at him with her beautiful glance, so 
 touchingly mild when she wished it, and at part¬ 
 ing quietly bowed her head with tlie tender, 
 cordial grace which she, though old and passee, 
 still preserved, Junot suddenly realized how 
 
 205 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 mucli they all would lose with Josephine. Just 
 as she was—and she had her faults—so would 
 she always be: the tie between Napoleon and his 
 past; she alone was ‘‘Madame Bonaparte,” 
 mistress of Malmaison; it was she alone who 
 had once been called by the soldiers of the Ital¬ 
 ian army, “ JVbtrc Dames des Victoires.” 
 
 206 
 
XVI 
 
 J’aime le pouvoir, moi, mais c’est en 
 artiste que j’aime. Je I’aime comme un 
 musicien aime son violon, je I’aime pour 
 en tirer des sons, des accords, des har¬ 
 monies. 
 
 NAPOLfiON. 
 
 II disait souvent que I’homme vraiment 
 politique .sait calculer jusqu’aux moindres 
 profits qu’il peut faire des dcfauts. 
 
 Mme. DE RfiMUSAT 
 (de I'Empereur). 
 
 BOUT the middle of September the whole 
 elaborate coui't moved to Fontaine¬ 
 bleau. Here, at this magnificent and 
 favorite castle, Napoleon had decided to cele¬ 
 brate the grand festivities which he had planned 
 long ago in honor of the King of Westphalia’s 
 wedding, and as a splendid ending to the agree¬ 
 ment at Tilsit. He wanted to give the French 
 court an opportunity to again assert itself as the 
 foremost in the world—such as it had been under 
 Louis XIV. 
 
 Nearly all of the imperial family made their 
 residence at Fontainebleau with their Majesties. 
 
 207 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 There came the newly married King and Queen, 
 Napoleon’s mother, Queen Julia of Naples, 
 the Queen of Holland, the Grand Duke and 
 Duchesse of Berg, Prince and Princess of Baden, 
 and Princess Pauline. The Emperor had, be¬ 
 sides, invited all the foreign ambassadors who, 
 after peace was declared, had hurried to Paris. 
 He had also gathered around him the great dig¬ 
 nitaries of his country and its foremost men: 
 the Prince of Neufch4tel, the Prince of B6n6vent, 
 most of the marshals, high officials, and Minis¬ 
 ters, with their families. Before he should 
 stretch out his hand in earnest after a new West¬ 
 ern crown, he would rest here for a moment in 
 the heart of old France, surrounded by his proud 
 court: by friends whom he had made powerful, 
 and by enemies whom he had conquered. 
 
 He had his private apartments arranged, as far 
 as possible, in the same manner in all of his cas¬ 
 tles as they were in the Tuileries, and the furni¬ 
 ture, which had been made after the same 
 models, was also similarly arranged. In this 
 way, by “feeling at home,” he did not waste 
 time. The articles needed for his work and 
 comfort were carried on all his journeys in large, 
 practically arranged necessaires, so that wher- 
 
 208 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ever lie had his headquarters—be it in a castle 
 or in a bivouac—he could always have about him 
 his writing-table, charts, and other materials ar¬ 
 ranged in the special manner which he had 
 found most convenient and useful. 
 
 The secretary and the keeper of his portfolio 
 had immediately assisted each other in getting 
 everything arranged ‘^as usual” in the large 
 room overlooking the orangerie. This he had 
 selected for his workroom, and now—a couple of 
 hours after his arrival—he was walking to and 
 fro, from one corner of the room to the other, 
 engrossed in one of his endless dictations, while 
 Meneval, to whom it was entirely immaterial 
 whether he wrote his quick, foreshortened signs 
 in the Tuileries or at Fountainebleau, piled one 
 sheet after the other upon the table in front of 
 him. 
 
 The Emperor was in excellent humor to-day. 
 He often stopped dictating to jiick at random a 
 book from the shelf. He would open at a 
 tragedy by Corneille, and commence to recite; or 
 he would hum, out of tune, a melody or an old 
 refrain from an operetta which had been popular 
 during the Directorate. He smiled to himself as 
 he swayed to and fro with his hands behind him. 
 
 209 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 iudiflfereut to the fact that he was singing a street 
 song: 
 
 Marat, du peuple le vengeur ...” 
 
 Suddenly he sat down upon the arm of 
 Meneval’s chair, put his hand out after the snuff¬ 
 box that lay upon the table, and slowly took a 
 pinch of snuff. 
 
 ‘‘Lay your pen away, Meneval”—he patted 
 him on the cheek. “Let us chat a little, my 
 friend.” 
 
 “Your Majesty, I am afraid I shall for¬ 
 get . . .” 
 
 “Oh, nonsense; you have a memory like a 
 horse! Here at Fontainebleau we really must 
 rest a little—you, as well as I—for the sake of a 
 change! You too must have your share in the 
 pleasures of life, Meneval.” 
 
 “But, sire,” interrupted the secretary, com¬ 
 pletely perplexed, “how in the world can I 
 take time for pleasure and play, when I realize 
 that you are working steadily and need me all 
 the time?” 
 
 The Emperor laughed aloud. “Bah! When 
 one wishes, one can find time for everything— 
 even for love intrigues, though I must confess 
 they do take a confounded lot of time ! ” 
 
 210 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 He again walked over the floor, still smiling 
 and humming. Suddenly he stopped, with his 
 thumbs stuck into his vest-pockets, and said, in 
 an entirely changed voice: 
 
 “Have you the despatch ready for Berna- 
 dotte ? To-day a courier goes to Hamburg. We 
 must make hay while the sun shines. Ah, Mr. 
 Canning; he should know what a favor he has 
 done me! Now is the time to give them their 
 death-blow, dear Meneval. England has never 
 had such mediocre Ministers as at the present. 
 Public opinion, which was once so hard for me 
 thoroughly to get the support of, is at last with 
 me on account of the bombardment of Copen¬ 
 hagen. That act of the English has changed me 
 in their eyes from a “tyrant” to a “re¬ 
 deemer.” . . . Every harbor from St. Peters¬ 
 burg to the Gulf of Taranto shall be closed. 
 They will thank me for my continental blockade. 
 Lisbon, you say?” (Meneval had not said a 
 word, he only looked up.) “ As to Lisbon, I can 
 
 trust Junot. He usually accomplishes what he 
 sets out to do; he must answer for Lisbon ! ” 
 
 He rang the bell forcibly. The lackey who 
 was always in attendance outside the door, 
 entered. 
 
 211 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Send a messenger to the Governor of Paris. 
 I wish to speak with him at once.” 
 
 While the Emperor was waiting for Junot, 
 he continued his silent wandering about the 
 room. Here, within these four walls which he 
 called his workroom, he enjoyed to the fullest 
 extent the reality of his power. To him 
 the pomp and glitter of his position were but 
 the attendant circumstances of royalty — the 
 supplement of power. On the other hand, here 
 alone in his study he celebrated his greatest 
 triumphs. 
 
 Never before had his brain been so productive 
 of gigantic plans as now, after he had found his 
 long-sought alliances at Tilsit; never before had 
 it seemed to him that the way was so open for 
 his unbounded ambition. Europe—this sus¬ 
 picious, shy, conservative Europe, which he 
 had courted so long—threw itself at last into his 
 arms. He knew, through Savary, that Alex¬ 
 ander and EomanzofP, who were now more 
 anxious than ever to please him, had decided to 
 break off all connection with the cabinet at 
 London. Metternich and the Grand Duke of 
 Wurzburg had already as good as decided to 
 accept the treaty about which they had long 
 
 212 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 negotiated, in whicli Austria—suppressed and 
 tempted by his clever traps—at last openly broke 
 with England and definitely accepted his con¬ 
 tinental policy. On his table lay despatches 
 from King Frederick William, with humble 
 assurances of Prussia’s readiness to conclude 
 with France an otfensive and defensive alliance; 
 and at last Denmark, the Mistress of the Sound, 
 who had kept herself coyly at a distance, and had 
 never ceased to boast of her neutrality, now— 
 thanks to England’s brutal tactics at Copen- 
 hagan—she had no other choice than to throw 
 herself kindly into his arms, ready to do his bid¬ 
 ding, if she might avenge the insult to her capi¬ 
 tal and the loss of her fleet. 
 
 Almost all Europe was at Napoleon’s feet, and 
 he was but waiting for new despatches from Lis¬ 
 bon to break with Portugal and to hand her 
 ambassador his passports. Only a few days 
 more, and Junot should receive his final and 
 secret instructions. 
 
 The Emperor asked the Governor of Paris into 
 his workroom—something which had scarcely 
 happened since the time of the Consulate. He 
 begged Junot to be seated in one of the few 
 chairs which stood here and there alongside the 
 
 213 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 walls, while he himself straddled another chair, 
 his chin resting upon the back of it. 
 
 ‘‘Now, my dear Governor of Paris, are you 
 not a little curious to know why I send you to 
 Bayonne ? ’ ’ 
 
 “No, Sire. You have said—and, besides, I 
 have heard it repeated by others—that you wish 
 to get rid of me at any price,” said Junot, with 
 a smile. 
 
 The Emperor smiled also, and swayed to and 
 fro on his chair. 
 
 ‘ ‘ And you really believe that I am childish 
 enough to let myself be moved by personal rea¬ 
 sons when an affair concerns the state? That 
 may have been possible in the days of the ancient 
 regime.” He shook his head several times. 
 “ Ah, no; I have outgrown that! But you, 
 Junot—who, in spite of all your stupidities, are 
 a clever fellow—you don’t believe it either.” 
 
 “No, your Majesty,” said Junot, sincerely, 
 “no longer.” 
 
 “You remember, perhaps, that you were once 
 Ambassador to Portugal ? ” 
 
 Junot laughed. Napoleon had now completely 
 won him over by his good humor. 
 
 “And that you so impressed the Prince of 
 
 214 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Brazil with your hussar uniform that you almost 
 made a revolution iu the palace, or, rather, a 
 wardrobe revolution ? I believe that he almost 
 sacrificed his braid of hair ...” 
 
 ‘‘But, Sire, where in the world do you get 
 that from?” exclaimed Juuot, laughing. 
 
 “Your wife told it to Josephine. Ah, I know 
 everything. . . . Tell me—do you believe that 
 you can once more astonish his Highness with 
 your hussar uniform and 26,000 men at your 
 heels ? ’ ’ 
 
 “With 26,000 men!—yes, sire, I believe I 
 can. ’ ’ 
 
 “Good.” The Emperor nodded. “They are 
 now at Bayonne. Now you know what the 
 ‘ Observation Army of the Gironde ’ is for, and 
 why I select you, who know Portugal so well, 
 for its leader.” 
 
 Junot bowed silently. His heart beat with 
 joy and expectation. 
 
 “I tell you this now, so that you can make 
 your plans. Sealed orders are good enough, 
 but—yoiT know I trust you. . . . For you I 
 have reserved the honor of depriving England 
 of her last friend on the Continent; I send you 
 to battle with my worst enemy. Now, Junot, 
 
 215 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 you have an opportunity to avenge your captiv¬ 
 ity in Egypt.” 
 
 “Sire,” said General Junot, solemnly, as he 
 arose and bent low over the Emperor’s extended 
 hand, “if passionate devotion and undaunted 
 bravery can accomplish what you desire, then 
 we must succeed.” 
 
 Napoleon, who had also risen, was touched by 
 Junot’s words, and pressed the hand which so 
 eagerly clutched his. 
 
 “ There, you see! One should never misjudge 
 an old friend, Junot,” said he, smiling in his be¬ 
 guiling manner. 
 
 Junot had large tears in his eyes; he laid the 
 Emperor’s hand upon his heart. 
 
 “Your Majesty ! ” he murmured. 
 
 “Now, there, old friend. . . . And now you 
 are responsible for the closing of Oporto and 
 Lisbon to the English before Christmas. Soon— 
 soon, my friend—the house of Braganza shall 
 have ceased to reign! ” 
 
 But it seemed as though Napoleon regretted 
 that he had disclosed one of his most secret 
 thoughts; he bit his lips, turned on his heel, and 
 walked to the window. Junot, as if enchanted, 
 rested his glance in worship on the Emperor’s 
 
 216 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 proud profile, which was sharply drawn upon 
 the window. His wife was right: this man was 
 his god, he really knew no other. 
 
 “You shall, later on, get more detailed 
 instructions,” continued the Emperor, in a 
 more business-like tone, as he strolled up and 
 down between MenevaFs writing-table and Ju- 
 not, who stood immovable in his corner, with 
 both hands upon the hilt of his sword. “In 
 a week you will be at Bayonne, and next 
 month, I think, you can cross the Pyrenees. In 
 regard to Spain you will get further orders. 
 Show, now, that you have been a diplomat! 
 You know I have a lucky hand ; he whom I 
 select for a purpose is usually successful. 
 
 “You see,” continued the Emperor slowly, 
 again entirely confidential to his friend, “Spain 
 is a ticklish point; she causes me a deal of 
 trouble. I must support Spain ; she is sinking 
 deeper and deeper, and she will soon be of no 
 more use to us. We must, however, profit by 
 her resources . . . 
 
 “But how you look at me, Junot!” He 
 stopped in front of him, with both hands behind 
 his back. “You think I am raving, as in 
 Egypt, at the St. Jean d’Arc, don’t you? ” 
 
 217 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘‘Sire,” exclaimed Junot, as lie looked into 
 his eyes, “you know that ever since we two 
 first met at the sansculotte battery at Toulon I 
 have believed in you, if anybody has.” 
 
 “You have a cause!” He nodded. “You 
 were really the first one who voluntarily tied his 
 fate to mine. But still,” he lifted his head, and 
 nodded more slowly—“still we are far from the 
 goal.” 
 
 Junot smiled proudly, and was happy under 
 the Emperor’s strong, beaming glance. 
 
 “Then I can surely trust you.” He passed 
 his hand over Junot’s bent head and smiled sud¬ 
 denly. “The old scar is still there, I can feel 
 it. . . . My friend, in the battles which now 
 await you, I need scarcely beg you to remember 
 Arcole and Lonato.” 
 
 “My General! my Emperor ! ...” 
 
 “There, now, Junot. . . . You are too forci¬ 
 ble, too impetuous, my old friend. But you 
 know now what your Emperor expects of you. 
 One thing more” (Junot had already neared 
 the door): “you understand that what I have 
 told you must not be disclosed to any one.” 
 
 “Your Majesty!” exclaimed Junot, indig¬ 
 nantly. 
 
 218 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “Yes, yes . . . I know, I know; but your 
 wife is a clever little imp, and you are a bit 
 weak in regard to her. I only warn you ; be 
 careful ! ” 
 
 Juuot bowed again, with his hand on his 
 heart, and then left the room, the Emperor’s 
 smiling glance following him. 
 
 219 
 
XVII 
 
 J’ai toujours aimfi I’analyse, et si jo 
 devenais serieusement amoreux, je de- 
 composerais mon amour pi^ce ^ pidce. 
 
 Napoleon. 
 
 II faut toujours tenir nos vanit^s en 
 haleine 3, nous autres, la s6v6rit6 du 
 gouvernement republicain vous e(it en- 
 nuy6 a. mort. 
 
 Napol4on. 
 
 IS Majesty breakfasted early on the 
 morning of the hunt; in faet, he had 
 long been busily engaged when the 
 hunting cavalcade gathered in la hour du 
 Cheval-Blanc. The ladies, in their fantastic 
 costumes of the same color as that of the Princess 
 to whose court they belonged, had already taken 
 their places in the open carriages and a few 
 were mounted when the Emperor, who always 
 came last, descended the horseshoe stairs, accom¬ 
 panied by his suite. 
 
 The morning was misty and cool, and the 
 roads were still soaked with the rain of the night; 
 everything was in striking contrast to the gay 
 cavalcade which shed its brilliancy on all sides. 
 
 220 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 First came the hunters, then the carriages, and, 
 last, the wagons with provisions and the service 
 for the luncheon—cooks and servants following 
 after. The Emperor rode for a time at the side 
 of the carriage in which the Emjjress and his 
 mother sat, his greeting to Josephine having 
 been an indifferent one. 
 
 Under the clear and telling light of the morn¬ 
 ing sun Josephine did not show to advantage in 
 a half Oriental costume which Napoleon had 
 designed for her. Napoleon did not make any 
 remarks about it, however; but, after speaking 
 a few words to the ladies, he touched his hat, put 
 spurs to his horse, and flew off with loose reins. 
 
 He did not hunt for the sake of the game. 
 Sport did not amuse him any more than gam¬ 
 bling, and he could not understand how any one 
 could appreciate the miserable and quite imag¬ 
 inary results which they obtained. But hunting 
 gave him an opportunity for vigorous bodily 
 exercise in the time of peace, the only change 
 which he cared for and considered useful. He 
 liked to go away by himself and be alone; and 
 with the exception of the stable-master, Jardin, 
 who always followed him like a shadow at a re¬ 
 spectful distance, he would roam around unat- 
 
 221 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 tended in this ancient, memorable, forest which 
 he loved so well, and here think out his most 
 daring thoughts and dream his proudest dreams. 
 Besides, these great hunting festivities appealed 
 to his esthetic and aristocratic tastes. He liked 
 to hear the horn ring out through the forest, the 
 yelp of the hounds, and the rousing, jubilant 
 “ Rallali ” when the deer fell. He liked to see 
 his stately cavaliers rush past him on their fiery 
 steeds, and perceive the ladies who, gaily and 
 gracefully attired in their attractive costumes, 
 presided at the merry luncheon under the trees. 
 Such scenes reminded him of his youth, of the 
 life in the field, of old times at Malmaison—of 
 everything he liked to remember. 
 
 So now, without a thought as to the direction 
 he had taken, the Emperor had neared the heights 
 at Franchard. He stopped there a moment, lis¬ 
 tening to the hunt, the noise of which could be 
 heard in the distance; he then gave his horse free 
 rein, and at a furious speed rushed down the 
 steep embankment. Down in the valley, sharply 
 drawn against the white rocks which arose behind 
 her, was a solitary lady on horseback. Her 
 white mare reared with fright as the Emperor 
 rushed toward them so unexpectedly. 
 
 222 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 '‘Is it you?” called Napoleon to the lady. 
 “Why in the world do yon stop here alone, 
 Madame Junot ? ” He rode breathlessly up to 
 her. 
 
 “I was a little tired, and then. . . . Yes, 
 I really do not know how it happened that the 
 others escaped me. But they were all so stren¬ 
 uous in following the deer that I preferred to 
 stop here and rest for a while—it is so beautiful 
 here. ...” She made a sweeping gesture with 
 her hand to call his attention to the beautiful 
 surroundings of the spot. 
 
 The sun, now in earnest, broke through the 
 mist which, like a soft, torn veil, still hovered 
 around the pointed tops of the rocks. Yet the 
 Emperor did not look at the view, but watched 
 the Governor’s wife somewhat curiously. Jardin 
 stopped at a little distance. 
 
 “It isn’t at all your way to become ‘tired,’ ” 
 said he. 
 
 Madame Junot bent low over the mare’s neck 
 and patted it, while the Emperor continued to 
 look at her with his peculiar, unmerciful glance. 
 Her hunting costume was very becoming, deco¬ 
 rated as it was with the colors of the Empress. 
 The short tunic of purple velvet, embroidered 
 
 223 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 with gold, fell gracefully down over a white silk 
 skirt, which, for the sake of convenience, was 
 slightly lifted at the side, so that the little hoots 
 of red velvet were visible. Around her waist 
 was a broad red scarf, and on her head a black 
 toque boldly turned up in front, with waving 
 white plumes, under which her rich, dark hair 
 rippled in a mille boucles coiffure. Her fresh 
 beauty was magnificently emphasized by these 
 strong, rich colors. 
 
 They slowly commenced—still followed by 
 Jardin—to pick their way in silence among the 
 rocks. As the road was especially bad, being 
 wet and slippery, Napoleon frequently took hold 
 of her horse’s bit to guide the animal more surely. 
 
 “This reminds me of our youth, Madame la 
 Gouverneuse. Yes, of course you are now old 
 enough for one to speak about youth without 
 danger of offense. I do not know whether your 
 Grace remembers a certain tete-d-tete at the hunt 
 at Butard ? ’ ’ 
 
 Madame Junot knew that the Emperor loved 
 to surprise his friends as well as his enemies, 
 but she was not at all prepared for this attack. 
 In all the intervening years he had never as 
 much as hinted at the events of that morning 
 224 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 and at what had happened on the way to 
 Butard. 
 
 conrse, your Majesty,” she answered, 
 with an unsteadiness unusual for her, “How 
 should I be able to forget one of the few times 
 when I have had the honor of speaking with 
 your Majesty ? ’ ’ 
 
 He stopped, eyed her closely, and smiled 
 faintly. “How funny! You speak your lines 
 so fluently and with perfectly correct accentua¬ 
 tion. . . , Even Madame de Chevreuse is no 
 greater actress than you I ” 
 
 “You have made that remark often before. 
 Sire,” she answered, “but it has never pleased 
 you to give me any reason for your opinion.” 
 
 “I know no one—at least, no woman—who has 
 opposed my will in every way, as you have,” he 
 continued, without wishing to listen to her. 
 
 “Of course, I dare not say that, your Majesty 
 is unjust,” she said, with tears in her eyes from 
 vexation and nervousness; for quite apart from 
 the difficulties and dangers of the moment, she 
 was harassed by the thought of Junot’s departure 
 on the morrow, the anguish of which was already 
 upon her. 
 
 His look now changed to a roguish glance. 
 
 225 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 such as she had not seen since “their youth,” 
 as he expressed it. 
 
 “Unjust? Dare I again remind your Grace 
 of the trip to Butard ? ’ ’ 
 
 Laurette laughed aloud, vastly relieved by the 
 Emperor’s good humor, and much diverted by 
 the medley of emotions that followed. “Ah, 
 that time!” she said. “Your Majesty puts 
 me really quite at a loss by constantly coming 
 back to the mysterious incident which, I must 
 confess, I do not quite remember.” She could 
 not help looking at him secretly with a roguish 
 glance from under her eyelashes, and this be¬ 
 trayed her. She was, however, quite herself 
 again, and no longer awed by the impending 
 conversation, which she knew must be decisive. 
 
 “Ah, ha, Madame Junot! Shall I help your 
 memory a little ? The little incident began when 
 you took many unnecessary precautions against 
 what you thought to be a criminal caprice of the 
 First Consul.” Still he did not succeed in ruf¬ 
 fling her; but his sarcastic voice made her lose 
 her patience, which never stretched very far. 
 An d when she became impatient or angry she 
 easily forgot that she no longer spoke to General 
 Bonaparte. She answered, impetuously: 
 
 226 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “Criminal! That is a word which you are 
 adding yourself. But can you deny that such 
 an act was a caprice V’ 
 
 She looked earnestly at him with her beaming 
 brown eyes. Their glances met. 
 
 “No,” he said, sternly. “Yes, perhaps, 
 partly; it is difiBcult fully to analyze the feeling 
 a man has for a woman. But I believe—pecul¬ 
 iar as it may seem to both you and to me— 
 that it really was a feeling of friendship. That 
 is something which I seldom used to feel for 
 ladies, but you . . . there is something about 
 you which greatly attracts me. Mark well, I 
 do not for a moment say that I love you, but . . . 
 I believe we could have been very good friends, 
 Madame Junot.” 
 
 “Friends, Sire!” she repeated, slowly and 
 very earnestly. “ It seems to me that . . .” 
 
 “Ah, I know what you would say,” he inter¬ 
 rupted, impatiently. “ Yes, just friends ! You 
 see, in my opinion friendship is impossible be¬ 
 tween men and women of our age, unless . . .” 
 He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 She did not answer, and he avoided looking at 
 her as he continued, slowly: 
 
 “You were at that time but a mere child. 
 
 227 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 You were a little conceited and headstrong, as 
 you always have been. And then you made 
 the mistake of considering as an offense to your 
 honor that which was only—well, what shall I 
 say ? ’ ’ 
 
 It appeared to Madame Junot that it would 
 have been quite difficult to construe these re¬ 
 peated tete-a-Utes at her bedside at four o’clock 
 in the morning in any other manner. She pon¬ 
 dered a little as to how he would get out of it. 
 
 ‘‘At that time, madame, the First Consul 
 offered his hand to you in friendship; he longed 
 to have a clever, sweet friend. But that was 
 long ago, Madame Laurette—long ago. Is it 
 not so ? ” 
 
 “Yes, your Majesty, it certainly was very 
 long ago. The surprise is that your Majesty 
 still remembers it.” 
 
 “You do not sit badly on a horse, Madame 
 Junot, considering that you have but ridden a 
 few months. I remember when Junot swore 
 that his little Sevres doll should never be per¬ 
 mitted to risk her precious life on the back of a 
 horse—you see, I have a good memory !—and 
 now he has taught you the art himself. Yes, 
 we all change ! ” 
 
 228 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “It was my own special wish, Sire,” an¬ 
 swered Madame Junot, poutingly. 
 
 “Certainly.” They walked their horses to¬ 
 ward the rest of the party, Jardin behind them. 
 “Do you see how they stare at you ? To-mor¬ 
 row a dozen anonymous letters will be written 
 to Junot, saying that the Emperor at last has 
 decided upon a ‘ maitresse en titre.’ Then he 
 will turn around on the way to Bayonne, spur 
 his best horses, and come back aflying . . . 
 Ah, I know Junot! What answer shall I make 
 him then ? ” 
 
 “How do I know. Sire? How would it be 
 possible for me to know what the Emperor had 
 decided? ” 
 
 “But you do know . . .” 
 
 “That he has not thought of Madame Junot. 
 Yes, that I know, your Majesty.” 
 
 The Emperor looked at her for a long time, 
 and then burst out laughing aloud. 
 
 “You are a veritable little devil! To think 
 of it! How could you guess that I really had 
 not for a moment thought of Madame Junot ? ” 
 
 Queen Hortense was still seated in her car¬ 
 riage in the midst of the hunting party, and she 
 held a brilliant group of cavaliers about her 
 
 229 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 equipage. When the Emperor and Madame 
 Junot joined the hunting party, Napoleon beck¬ 
 oned to the Governor of Paris, who, with hat in 
 hand, was speaking to Queen Hortense. 
 
 “See here, Junot! Here you have your wife 
 again. She came within a hairbreadth of dis¬ 
 appearing forever among the cliffs at Franchard 
 —just like Eurydice ! ” 
 
 His Majesty dismounted and took his place at 
 the table, which was already set. He turned to 
 the Ambassador from Escurial, the Duke of 
 Frias, and said, graciously : 
 
 “How does your Grace enjoy the hunt? I 
 do not suppose it much resembles those of his 
 Catholic Majesty at Aranjuez? ” 
 
 The proud Spaniard bowed, looked up at the 
 sky, and answered : “His Catholic Majesty, 
 Sire, always lunches under a tent.” 
 
 “I, however, prefer the sky,” answered the 
 Emperor, with superiority, as he turned around. 
 
 The sun was now shining brightly, and through 
 the scant foliage there fell a warm, trembling 
 light over the long table, around which the 
 guests were already taking their places. The 
 table was placed on the grass upon a portable 
 wooden platform covered with a thin Aubusson 
 
 230 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 carpet. The service was, in all details, entirely 
 of silver, marked with the imperial monogram. 
 Here in the woods, after an animated hunt, and 
 now that everybody was hungry, it was almost 
 impossible, in spite of the exertions of Monsieur 
 de Segurs and the Prefet, strictly to maintain 
 the formal service which Napoleon always de¬ 
 manded. Here nature and old habits again held 
 sway, here appeared reminiscences of the happy 
 and graceful lack of form of the days of the 
 Directorate and the Consulate. The Emperor 
 did not comprehend it himself, but his court 
 really never had a greater resemblance to the 
 old French court, which he so much wished 
 it to resemble, than at such functions as 
 these, when all these brave men and m.erry, 
 beautiful women, freed from the restraint of 
 the still scarcely learned ceremony, gave them¬ 
 selves up to the vivacious sway of their Gallic 
 natures. 
 
 That was why the hunt was considered the 
 best of pleasures by all—even by those who did 
 not take an active part in it. From the time 
 they gathered in the morning, at the blast of 
 the horn, until the curee in the evening, when 
 the hounds fell over the prey in the gleam of the 
 
 231 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 torches, there was nothing hut gaiety and hap¬ 
 piness the whole day long. 
 
 The Emperor sat at the head of the table ; 
 slowly, almost caressingly, he let his eyes wander 
 over the many guests. Among the gentlemen’s 
 green hunting costumes glittered the ladies’ 
 dresses—in white and purple, silver and lilac, 
 rose and blue. 
 
 The knives and forks rattled against the silver 
 plates, the wine sparkled as it flowed from the 
 silver decanters into the crystal cups which ring- 
 ingly touched each other, while laughter pealed 
 from fresh lips. And midst all this noise and 
 hum he could sometimes catch the words of com¬ 
 pliments and quickly turned repartee in the 
 clear, daring, French accents which he loved so 
 much. 
 
 The Duke of Wurzburg, the brother of Em¬ 
 peror Franz, gallantly entertained her Majesty 
 the Empress with descriptions of a modern Eng¬ 
 lish park with which he intended to surround 
 his new residence. Josephine, who understood 
 a good deal about such things, was highly inter¬ 
 ested and gave him good advice. At last he 
 also appealed to the Emperor, to hear his opinion 
 on the subject. 
 
 232 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘ ^ An English park, you say ? ’ ’ The Emperor 
 leaned back in his chair and clinched the hand 
 which rested upon the table-cloth. “ Ah, yes ! 
 But still I think that is a caprice most suitable 
 for millionaires. . . . My English park, your 
 Highness”—he made a sweeping movement of 
 the hand—“ you see right here. It is the forest 
 around Fontainebleau.” 
 
 The Governor of Paris had not, during the 
 whole day, attempted to converse with Princess 
 Caroline, although many excellent oppoituuities 
 had offered themselves, and he had caught 
 several glances from her which jDlainly told him 
 that he might do so. But when they all arose 
 from the table, he happened, for a moment, to 
 be near her lady in attendance. Mademoiselle de 
 la Grange, whom he had noticed circling around 
 him for some time. He had always disliked the 
 flattering old schemer, although he had not hesi¬ 
 tated to use her when he had occasion. Now, as 
 she approached him, dressed in pink and silver, 
 wearing the colors of the Princess, she was almost 
 disgusting to him. 
 
 Mademoiselle de la Grange laid a long, bony 
 finger on her painted lips and whispered : 
 
 “ I know a lady who is veiy sorry about a cer- 
 
 233 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 taiu person’s approacMng departure. At the 
 ball to-night she expects that he will find an op¬ 
 portunity to speak with her.” 
 
 The Governor of Paris, after having won the 
 affections of the Emperor’s sister, now avoided 
 her as much as possible. Two days before she 
 had shown such unconcerned and selfish perfidy 
 that he fairly hated her for it. It hurt his pride 
 as a man that he met his rebuff in the presence 
 of Metternich, whom every one was pointing to 
 as his successor in her favor. It hurt him, too— 
 more than he was willing to admit, even to him¬ 
 self—that, in the game she was playing, she 
 threw him away as a worthless card at the first 
 breath of censure for her folly. 
 
 The Emperor and the Empress partook of the 
 dinner apart, while Duroc did les Jionneurs at 
 his table for those of the royal guests who did 
 not have their own establishments at Fontaine¬ 
 bleau. After this function was over, the Emperor 
 gave a ball in the Francis I. gaUery, a grand old 
 festival-hall now used a great deal more than it 
 had been during Vancicn regime. The Emperor 
 thought his young court showed to better advan¬ 
 tage under those enormous chandeliers which 
 hung from the artistically carved ceiling, among 
 
 234 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 the proud, historic emblems on the long walls: 
 the golden F alternating with salamanders, with 
 paintings by Eosso, and with bold sculptures 
 by Primaticcio. 
 
 In the evening, while on his usual rounds, the 
 Emperor stopped for a moment, leaned against 
 the monumental fireplace at one end of the hall, 
 and looked down through the enormous rooms, 
 where all in France who had aristocratic names, 
 or beauty, or fame, took part in the quadrille. 
 Then it was that he experienced the same feel¬ 
 ings as when he reviewed the troops upon the 
 battle-field after a victory. He refused no tri¬ 
 umphs when they could enlarge his imperial 
 prestige, whether they were won upon the pol¬ 
 ished floor of the festal hall at Fontainebleau, 
 or upon the bloody meadows of Eylau. 
 
 Princess Pauline, on account of her poor 
 health, did not dance, although she was always 
 present at the festivals. She sat that night in a 
 large chair in the middle of the room, the fairest 
 of the fair, decked with her own diamonds as 
 well as those of the house of Borghese. In her 
 lap she held a rose, a ring, and a handkerchief, 
 while, back of her chair, gracefully grouped, 
 stood Princess Caroline, Madame de Canisy, and 
 
 235 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 the Duchess of Chevreuse. The young Duke of 
 Mecklenhurg-Schwerin, Prince Murat, and Gen¬ 
 eral Junot knelt upon three pillows at her feet. 
 Meantime, with great solemnity, the young ladies 
 tied a soft silk veil before the eyes of the Prin¬ 
 cess, after they themselves had first been named as 
 the ring, the rose, and the handkerchief. Blind, 
 like Fortuna, Princess Pauline distributed the 
 emblems to the three kneeling cavaliers. The 
 Duke of Mecklenburg got the ring; he arose 
 immediately and bowed to Madame de Canisy. 
 Murat got the handkerchief, which represented 
 the Duchess of Chevreuse, who, with an almost 
 unnoticeable wrinkling of her fine little nose, 
 decided to give him her hand while she fleet- 
 ingly glanced at the Duke of Mecklenburg. 
 Last of all, Junot received the rose. The Grand 
 Duchess of Berg and Cleve haughtily placed her 
 royal hand in the Governor’s, while every one 
 wondered whether Princess Pauline really had 
 been as blind as she looked when she drew the 
 lots. 
 
 The three couples solemnly took a few turns 
 of the dance, and then gave way to others. The 
 interest of the guests now concentrated upon the 
 jealous little Queen of Westphalia, and they 
 
 236 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 wondered whether she would allow her husband 
 —one of the gentlemen kneeling before her—to 
 dance with Princess Stephanie. The confusion 
 and change of interest gave Junot and Caroline 
 a chance, quite unnoticed, to exchange a few 
 words with each other. 
 
 “Tell me,” whispered the Princess, “shall I 
 not see you again before you go away ? ” 
 
 “I do not think so. That would be very un¬ 
 wise in our situation, as you no doubt realize as 
 well as I,” answered Junot, softly. 
 
 “You are still angry with me on account of 
 the . . . other day? . . .” 
 
 “Your great kindness, your Highness, has 
 filled my soul with such gratitude that it would 
 be impossible for me to feel angry toward you.” 
 
 The Princess bit her lip. She felt intuitively 
 the hidden bitterness in this answer, and she 
 looked up for the first time during their conver¬ 
 sation. His eyes met hers with an expression 
 which, in spite of its tender sentimentality, could 
 not quite disguise the triumphant smile around 
 his lips. The Princess tapped her foot impa¬ 
 tiently upon the floor. She hated him for his 
 proud, merciless sagacity, which laid as a weight 
 upon her heart. She said, with emotion: 
 
 237 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 “ But you will write to me, my friend ? . , 
 
 He laid liis liand upon his heart. Nothing, 
 your Highness, will give me greater consolation 
 in my loneliness.” 
 
 The Princess looked questioningly at her 
 lover. She knew him so well. She knew that if 
 he once got his erratic and impetuous nature 
 under control he would rise vastly her superior 
 in irony and sarcasm. He was a good deal of 
 a riddle to her to-night, and his treatment of 
 her, she vaguely felt, was for some reason very 
 humiliating. 
 
 ‘‘You should have every confidence in me,” 
 she said, quickly, and with greater earnestness. 
 “Eemember, Junot, if you are ever in need— 
 remember that you have a true friend in me.” 
 
 Junot, by way of answer, tenderly pressed the 
 soft little hand that stole into his. This linger¬ 
 ing hand-shake with which they parted expressed 
 his last gallant and appreciative thanks to her 
 for all that she had been to him. 
 
 238 
 
XVIII 
 
 Nous ne pouvons nous aimer avec 
 passion et vivre parfaitement heureux. 
 Mais I’amour vaut bien ia paix — n’est- 
 ce pas f 
 
 Mme. Jdnot 
 (“ fitienne Saulnier ”). 
 
 L’avenir est a mepriser pour I’homme 
 qui a du courage. 
 
 Napoleon 
 
 (Correspondance de I'Empereur). 
 
 T was about midnight when Madame 
 Junot returned from the ball to the 
 apartment which had been designated for 
 her and her husband in one of the pavilions of 
 the castle. Junot had not returned as yet. He 
 wished to speak once more to his friend Duroc, 
 this being almost impossible except at night, as 
 the Grand Marshal was usually very busy. 
 
 She could uot, however, understand what de¬ 
 tained Junot so long. She saw him disappear 
 with Duroc soon after the Emperor withdrew, 
 and that was almost an hour before. They must 
 have had a great deal to talk about. 
 
 She dismissed her maid, and, with her hands 
 
 239 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 resting liglitly on her hips, she strolled slowly 
 to and Ito through the large room, which was 
 dimly lighted by two candles placed in front of 
 the mirror over the mantel. As she drew near 
 the mirror to straighten one of the candles, she 
 lifted her dress a little, and put her dainty pink 
 shoe against the grate, behind which the embers 
 were slowly dying. 
 
 From sheer force of habit Madame Junot 
 glanced indifferently into the mirror and ex¬ 
 amined her evening toilet. Meeting there her 
 own innocent gaze, she bent involuntarily nearer 
 to the glass and examined her face closely. 
 “Ah, yes; why not? . . . his Majesty has good 
 taste ...” And for the hundredth time she 
 thought of her chat with Napoleon. On his 
 side, the encounter had been a half-masked at¬ 
 tack by an incomparably superior tactician. On 
 her side, she had boldly foiled his advances before 
 he could accomplish his wish. They had for a 
 moment stood eye to eye with crossed foils, like 
 two skilled fencers. They had both dropped 
 their weapons with full honors, and had parted 
 with a smile and a compliment. But was the 
 conflict settled by this combat? . . . Ah! the 
 Emperor had many weapons in his arsenal, and. 
 
 240 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 like an experienced victor, he would surely not 
 sutfer a half defeat. During the evening her 
 glance had again met his for a second, and Napo¬ 
 leon smiled in a sarcastic and knowing way; but 
 then that was when Junot was dancing with the 
 Grand Duchess of Berg. 
 
 Out in the anteroom she heard her husband 
 give some orders to the sleepy valet, and imme¬ 
 diately after she greeted him at the open door. 
 
 ^‘Ah, you are still awake, Laurette ! I was 
 almost afraid that you had retired.” 
 
 ‘^No, I came home only a moment ago—I 
 could not get away before.” And they walked 
 side by side to his large traveling bag, which 
 stood upon the table at the center of the room, 
 all packed and arranged for his departure. 
 
 Junot laid his hat away, and stood unbuck¬ 
 ling his sword, while Laurette absent-mindedly 
 passed her fingers over the metal ornament on 
 the bag. For a moment they were both silent. 
 
 “You know that I shall be obliged to drive 
 from here at seven o’clock in the morning. I 
 am compelled to be at Bayonne at the end of 
 this week.” 
 
 “Yes. . . . Everything is ready, so far as I 
 know. I heard you speak to Chapelle ...” 
 
 241 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 Junot then turned a little hesitatingly to his 
 wife, and gently placed his arm around her waist. 
 
 ‘‘Laura!” . . . 
 
 She turned toward him, and, with passionate, 
 uncontrollable anguish, she put both arms around 
 his neck and threw herself upon his breast. 
 
 “Laurette! What is the matter, dearest ? It 
 is so unlike you to lose your courage.” 
 
 “Yes, yes; but do not mind that,” she sobbed, 
 trying to control herself. He kissed her cheek 
 and neck, and tried to sooth her. Then she 
 suddenly lifted her head and bent far back, her 
 hands still upon his shoulders, and said, stub¬ 
 bornly: 
 
 “Why am I so stupid? Why should you 
 always be spared ? . . . Yes, I am unhappy— 
 you may just as well know it. I am desperate— 
 almost beside myself with anxiety. . . .” 
 
 ‘ ‘ Laurette, now listen to me. I swear to you 
 that I never, never again ... do you under¬ 
 stand ? ’ ’ 
 
 “Ah, it is not that alone,” she interrupted 
 him, impatiently, as she half turned away. ‘ ‘ I 
 know very well that such a promise does not 
 last forever. It has been hard enough to endure 
 that humiliation during this whole year.” And 
 
 242 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 she sighed as she gazed absently at another 
 scene on memory’s page. “Ah, life is so hope¬ 
 lessly complicated—so difficult to live !” 
 
 “Pray, don’t turn into a weeping philoso¬ 
 pher, my pigeon,” he said, gaily, with an at¬ 
 tempt at joking. “Life—why, life is what fate 
 makes it.” 
 
 “Yes, you are right; and the Emperor, he is 
 our fate—yours, and, therefore, mine.” 
 
 “Laurette,” he pushed her away from him, 
 “why do you always speak in such a tone about 
 him? ” 
 
 ‘ ‘ I speak only the truth ! ’ ’ she exclaimed im¬ 
 petuously, almost recklessly. “It has lately 
 dawned more and more upon me that we are no 
 longer the free and independent people we were 
 some years ago, but merely dolls in his hands, 
 souls at his mercy. Look around! It is not 
 alone you and I, it is all of us. Take your own 
 case as an example—think how you have been 
 thrown from one anxiety to another, since he 
 came home, without will or wish of your own, 
 defenseless. . . . His anger is death, his smile 
 life. His love—ah, whom does he love now ? ” . . . 
 
 Junot silently paced to and fro, while Laurette 
 still stood at the table. She had turned toward 
 
 243 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 him, with her hands behind her, and leaned 
 against the top of the table, her feet slightly ex¬ 
 tended. 
 
 “ Consider, Jnnot. Would the thought be 
 possible to you, even though he wronged yon 
 most bitterly, to break a new path and, inde¬ 
 pendent of him, begin a new life ? ’ ’ 
 
 ‘ ‘ Laurette ! It is folly for you to talk in this 
 manner!” He faced her impatiently and 
 stamped his foot on the floor. “ If there is any¬ 
 one who stands close to him, then it is I, and 
 ‘ independent of him ’—what do you really mean ? 
 The one who wants to be independent of him 
 must go to England, or across the ocean ; for 
 here, on the Continent”—he laughed bitterly 
 but triumphantly—‘‘no one is independent of 
 him. What folly ! I am a Frenchman, and he 
 is my friend, whom I have voluntarily made my 
 master—how could the thought ever occur to me 
 to separate my life from his? ” 
 
 “Voluntarily? Yes, perhaps, once! But 
 now he is our master, and no vdll but his is 
 free. ’ ’ 
 
 Junot walked a few steps over the floor, and 
 suddenly lifted his head and brushed the hair 
 away from his forehead with a weary, impatient 
 
 244 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 move of the hand, as though he wished to get rid 
 of his own thoughts. Then he turned to 
 Laurette, who still stood in the same position at 
 the table. 
 
 ‘^Did you notice, Laurette, that I danced to¬ 
 night with—with—” He stopped, regretting 
 that he had touched upon this subject. 
 
 “With Princess Caroline? Oh, yes, I saw 
 it.” 
 
 They were both silent. She was looking stub¬ 
 bornly down in front of her as Junot, stepping to 
 her, took her around the waist with both hands 
 and regarded her with an uncertain, bashful 
 smile as he drew her toward him. 
 
 “Laurette,” he whispered very softly, his face 
 close to hers, “don’t let that trouble you any 
 longer; it is all over now ! ” 
 
 She shook her head. “And you believe that 
 possible ? No, my dear, a drama so carefully 
 planned is not all over in one act! ” 
 
 ‘ ‘ I assure you, Laurette. ’ ’ He looked into her 
 eyes, speaking a little louder. 
 
 “Tut, tut! Can you not understand what I 
 mean? We are now compelled to take our parts 
 in the play, whether we will or not! Can you 
 not see that the Emperor, who is the manager of 
 
 245 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 all the dramas here, has laid the second act in 
 Bayonne, and third in . . . Ah, how do I 
 know ? I cannot bear to think of it ! ” 
 
 “ Dearest Laurette, you are listening too much 
 to the court gossip,” he said, a little sharply. 
 “You know very well that Napoleon has entirely 
 different reasons for entrnsting the Army of the 
 Gironde to me. ’ ’ 
 
 “Ah, yes, of course, I know that. He is a 
 master when it comes to combinations. As he 
 himself used to say, he really knows how to 
 derive the greatest possible gains, even from 
 mistakes.” 
 
 “Come,” and he led her to the big chair by 
 the fireplace, while he knelt on a footstool before 
 her and put his arms around her waist, “let 
 me hear, before we part, everything that weighs 
 upon your mind.” 
 
 She sighed. “The Observation Army at 
 Gironde is called your division, is it not ? Bnt 
 the Emperor has other reasons, you say. Ah ! ” 
 she passionately caressed him—“you may say 
 what you will; I know that down there a danger 
 awaits you—a greater danger than you have ever 
 confronted before. ’ ’ 
 
 “Do you fear for my life, Laurette?” He 
 
 246 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 looked up, almost surprised. Wlio is it whom 
 I have so often seen moved to tears over the bul¬ 
 letins from the Grand Army ? Who was it who 
 so often, in proud and spirited words, has called 
 that one happy who was privileged to meet such 
 an honorable and noble death ? It was only two 
 years ago that I had to hurry away from you at 
 Lisbon to meet Napoleon in Mahren, but you 
 were not afraid then.” 
 
 ‘^No, not then. I did not have time to be¬ 
 come afraid then. Besides, you were Napoleon’s 
 First Adjutant—I knew that he would keep you 
 near him. Now you are going to war for the 
 second time since I have been your wife, and I 
 now begin to realize what a different meaning 
 this parting has for both of us.” 
 
 “Realize the meaning! You cannot realize 
 the meaning. But what difference does it make ? 
 The earth has tasted my blood so often in the 
 past. . . . Well, if I have to die on the field, 
 a year or two sooner or later . . .” 
 
 “ Hush ! ” she exclaimed, despairingly. “My 
 God, I never before understood what war 
 means! ” 
 
 “ Is my life so precious to you— more precious 
 than my honor, Laurette ? ’ ’ 
 
 247 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 She was silent, with downcast eyes and lips 
 tightly pressed together. 
 
 “Answer me ! Eemember, you are the wife 
 of a French soldier,” he said, solemnly. 
 
 She lifted her eyes, and, as she gently pushed 
 him away from her, she looked at him with a 
 glance that he never forgot. 
 
 “Your honor is more precious to me than 
 anything in the world, ’ ’ she whispered, almost 
 inaudibly. “Your name and responsibility— 
 as soldier and chief ...” 
 
 “My beloved! That is the courage I wish 
 the woman to show who shares my life. And 
 now—be of good cheer ! The Emperor has been 
 gracious to me again; he is my friend. I leave 
 you behind to watch over our interests; and 
 when we meet again, Laurette, perhaps I shall 
 carry the marshal’s staff! ” 
 
 “ Ah, that staff ... I believe he could send 
 you down into the abyss by simply waving it at 
 you ! He knew what he was doing when he did 
 not give it to you before. ’ ’ 
 
 “Laurette! . . .” 
 
 “Don’t I like Napoleon? Don’t I admire 
 him more than any one ? And still ... let me 
 be allowed to say, once for all, that it is a sin— 
 
 248 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 yes, a sin—the manner in which he has stimu¬ 
 lated the ambitions of you all to this dizzy 
 height. He urges you on like hounds after the 
 prey.” 
 
 “But, Laurette, again you fail to realize what 
 you are saying,” he said, tenderly. 
 
 Madame Junot rose silently, and for a few 
 moments she walked impetuously to and fro. 
 Suddenly she stopped and laid the backs of her 
 hands against her burning cheeks, as if to cool 
 them. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Don’t look at me so ! It is usually you who 
 are too impetuous. . . . Oh, you will be open 
 and frank with me in your letters—I know well 
 enough that just where there is danger, there 
 the Emperor sends a man like you. But when 
 the conditions become too bad down there—ah, 
 I know Spain and Portugal ! ”—he made a ges¬ 
 ture of surprise—“no, do not look so scared; no 
 one has told me anything. I can readily guess 
 that an army w hich gathei's at Bayonne is to be 
 used against the Peninsula. I don’t need to be 
 told that the alliance between England and Por¬ 
 tugal is the question of the hour, nor that the 
 hour needs you—you, with your knowledge of 
 Portugal and of the Portuguese. Don’t appear 
 
 249 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 so astonislied, Junot; I am gifted with second- 
 sight whenever you are concerned. ... I 
 realize the terrific dangers ahead of you, and 
 before you reach the worst of them I am coming 
 to you. I can live in a bivouac, if I share it 
 with you. Bah, these frills and furbelows !” 
 
 With a movement of contempt she stripped 
 the bracelets from her arms and threw them 
 rattling on the floor, adding : 
 
 “You think I am a slave to all this luxury? 
 No more than Napoleon or you.” 
 
 “ Laurette ! ” He took her in his arms. “You 
 are making it doubly hard for me to leave you.” 
 
 “ Possibly; but I demand no promises of you. 
 I ask only this: that in the moment of danger, if 
 you think of any woman, let your thought be of 
 no one but me. ’ ’ 
 
 He looked admiringly at her as he smiled 
 proudly. How petty were all other women, 
 even the most exalted, in comparison with her. 
 
 “ I know a method by which I could win you 
 completely. If I should make you live in eter¬ 
 nal anxiety, and in constant fear of losing me, 
 whom you now, with such absolute certainty, 
 think you own ... If I should arouse your 
 jealousy . . . Ah, I could easily do it!” she 
 
 250 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 added, defiantly, and spread her arms out. “I 
 could easily do it—if I wished ! ’ ’ 
 
 Juuot turned red at first, then deathly pale. 
 
 ‘ ‘ So it is true ? ” he murmured in a choked 
 voice. “ So it is true—these insinuations that I 
 hear at every turn—the gossip that whispers into 
 my ears—that he . . . that the Emperor? ...” 
 
 His wife did not answer. She simply shook 
 her head, without looking at him. She was 
 greatly excited; her cheeks burned, and her 
 lovely bosom, fair as the purest marble, rose and 
 fell with the tumult of her feelings, while she 
 tightly grasped the arm of the chair with both 
 hands and looked in front of her from under her 
 knit brow. He walked slowly up to her and 
 stood in front of her. 
 
 '^Laurette, look at me! Will you let me 
 leave you with this wound in my heart ? Is it 
 possible that he . . . ” 
 
 ^‘No; listen to me. I tell you that you sus¬ 
 pect what is impossible,” she said, harshly, and 
 looked quickly up. “ But, after all,” she 
 shrugged her shoulders scornfully—‘‘of what 
 importance is friendships among men when—” 
 He guessed her thought. “ I have never been 
 Murat’s friend ! ” he said, hurriedly. 
 
 251 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 She did not answer, a sad smile passing over 
 her lips. 
 
 ‘^Why have you heaped these burning coals 
 upon my soul—now, this last evening ? ’ ’ ex¬ 
 claimed Junot. ‘‘I know that you have often 
 had reasons for being displeased with me; but 
 —ah, but this is an entirely different mat¬ 
 ter. A man’s wrong-doings can easily be for¬ 
 given—a woman’s never ! If I thought that 
 you . . . Laurette ! I swear to you that not for 
 an hour could I survive my dishonor and . . . 
 and—my sorrow. ’ ’ 
 
 She turned her head a little as she sat there 
 leaning against the high back of her chair, and 
 looked up at him with her large, dark eyes. 
 Over the delicate bow of the stubbornly closed 
 mouth there passed a proud smile. 
 
 '‘Junot, look straight at me ! Look straight 
 into my eyes ! Do I look like a wife who in¬ 
 tends to deceive her husband ? You are unable 
 to say ‘No’ to Napoleon; but you may rest 
 assured that I can utter an emphatic ' No ’ 
 should it become necessary. My mother could, 
 too.” 
 
 He fell on his knees in front of her, forcibly 
 caught both her arms, and buried his head in 
 
 252 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 her lap. When he again lifted his head his eyes 
 were full of tears. 
 
 “You are crying? You! Ah, Junot, I knew 
 that you loved me, in spite of everything. In 
 such matters one is seldom mistaken when one 
 stands as near her husband as I do to you. 
 But to see you shed tears for my sake ...” 
 
 He smiled and laid her cool hands upon his 
 moist eyes. He took her head between his 
 hands and caressed her cheeks, her neck, and 
 her shoulders. They looked at each other 
 silently—tenderly. They saw each other clearly 
 for the first time—a man and a woman—the only 
 ones on earth. 
 
 “Laurette,” he whispered, softly, “you com¬ 
 plained a few moments ago about life. Do you 
 not feel how rich it is, how at this moment it is 
 renewing itself?” 
 
 She placed her finger-tips upon his eyes and 
 forced him to close them; she was blushing. 
 
 For a few minutes they sat close to each other 
 in silence. Then she gently freed herself from 
 his embrace, smilingly arose, and walked a few 
 steps toward the door. She stopped suddenly, 
 looked around with beaming eyes, and opened 
 her arms. 
 
 253 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 ‘^Beloved Fontainebleau!” sbe whispered 
 softly, as she bent her head back and closed her 
 eyes. When she again looked up she met her 
 husband’s glances. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Beloved Fontainebleau, I shall never forget 
 you. Here have I been happy ! ” 
 
 Three weeks later the Army of the Gironde 
 crossed the Pyrenees, and the momentous war in 
 the Peninsula had begun. 
 
 THE END 
 
 254 
 
AUTHOR’S NOTES 
 
 HE writer has not called this book a 
 “Romance,” for it did not seem, after 
 due consideration, to be well-formed 
 and connected enough to deserve so dignified a 
 description. These “pictures,” which it has 
 been her pleasure to draw during her idle hours, 
 she has grouped about Madame Junot, the 
 Governor’s wife, and has given them the name 
 of that brilliant and lovable peraonage. 
 
 As the material for these “pictures” has been 
 gathered from Madame Junot’s own “Memoirs,” 
 and has been treated from lier point of view, the 
 book has a right to carry her name. While the 
 “Memoirs” have naturally been the special 
 source of information, they are far from having 
 been the only source. On the one hand, some 
 episodes, such as Princess Pauline’s visit,* the 
 home-coming from Malmaisou,f and the recep- 
 
 t Pages 88-84. 
 
 • Pages 57-63. 
 
 265 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 tion of Princess Catherine at Eaincy—these all 
 follow Madame Junot’s narrative very closely. 
 
 On the other hand, many of the chapters are 
 pxu'e fiction, built upon familiar incidents and 
 developed along the line of motives that are his¬ 
 torical. The writer, in following such a course, 
 has committed many slight anachronisms, and in 
 many cases drawn the knot of intrigue closer 
 than the circumstances warranted; yet it is often 
 a question in life as to what is fact and what 
 fiction—as to the point at which imagination 
 leaves off and the vulgar happening begins. 
 
 For a thorough understanding of the personal 
 relations between General and Madame Junot, 
 which forms naturally the groundwork of this 
 presentation of their characters, the writer has 
 been also greatly aided by their private corre¬ 
 spondence, with which she has had an exceptional 
 opportunity to make herself familiar through 
 the kindness of their granddaughter, the Duchess 
 of Abrantes.' 
 
 These letters, which are now faded and yellow 
 with age, were written almost daily during 
 fatiguing marches from country to country, in 
 barracks, in the midst of siege, from many a 
 battle-field. They are some of the most original 
 
 256 
 
Author’s Notes 
 
 and poetical documents of the times; for Junot 
 possessed a chivalrous and poetical nature, which 
 gave itself free and unconscious literary expres¬ 
 sion in these unrestrained letters to his wife. 
 No one could fail to appreciate the strength and 
 sincerity of the deep, true love which these two 
 richly endowed people felt for each other, in 
 spite of the difficulties inseparable from their 
 position. 
 
 Her various studies have led the writer to an 
 intimate knowledge of most of the famous French 
 ladies of the days of Napoleon. With none of 
 them has she felt the sympathy, and for none of 
 them the affection by which she is drawn to 
 Madame Junot, who is everywhere and always 
 a ‘•‘femme maitresse,’^ as Napoleon called her 
 mother. Hers was a brave, proud nature, and 
 her manner was that of an aristocrat. 
 
 Madame Junot took the world but as the 
 world, in a very matter-of-fact wa^ quite free 
 from illusions—a thorough Gallic disposition 
 which one never finds in young people outside of 
 France, and even there but seldom. At the same 
 time, however, she had a keen sensibility of per¬ 
 ception, and a faculty for love and hatred which 
 few people possess in so high a degree. Yet she 
 
 257 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 was always loyal and faithful to the proud period 
 to which she belonged by name and birth. 
 
 In the beautiful poem which Victor Hugo 
 wrote to her, he said: 
 
 Car j'ai ma mission! Car arme d’une lyre, 
 
 Plein d’hymnes irritis, ardents d s'epancher, 
 
 Je garde les tresors des gloires de VEmpire. 
 
 Je n'ai jamais souffert qu'on osat y toucher. 
 
 His words applied as well to the lady to whom 
 he sung as to himself. Junot’s widow sits by 
 day and night as a jealous watcher over the 
 memories of the Empire. She never tires of 
 pointing to the proud monuments which it raised 
 for itself, and she ever defends and praises it. 
 Even when the Emperor, embittered by his own 
 misfortune, wounded her so deeply with his 
 harsh criticism in his “Memoirs,” she did not 
 change her attitude in the least. She still ex¬ 
 claimed: “ Avec lui toutes les routes Maient bordies 
 de lauriers, avec lui vien n’etait amer !” 
 
 Madame Junot’s “Memoirs” are least satisfac¬ 
 tory in the matter of historical correctness. She 
 evidently had but little sense for dates, and very 
 little for arrangement; she mixes carelessly hap¬ 
 penings and epochs, and sometimes even names; 
 her statements should always be compared 
 
 258 
 
Author’s Notes 
 
 with those of other authorities. She herself ad¬ 
 mits that she was never in the habit of rereading 
 what she had written. And still, how trust¬ 
 worthy are these “Memoirs,” how true their sen¬ 
 timent and feeling ! Few have to such a degree 
 as she understood how to paint in words their 
 times and the people of their times. Her de¬ 
 scription, for instance, of Bonaparte as youth and 
 young man is exceptionally fine. Bourriennes’ 
 description of Napoleon at the same time is 
 neither so lifelike nor rich. 
 
 Madame Junot’s description of Napoleon has 
 often been compared with Madame de E6musat’s. 
 But careful investigation has shown that Madame 
 de E6musat was not worthy of the absolute con¬ 
 fidence which many authors—among them even 
 Taine—have had in her. 
 
 The thousands of pages which Madame Junot, 
 in her careless, nonchalant manner, has written 
 about the time of the Directorate, the Consulate, 
 the Empire, and the Eestoration scarcely form 
 a “book;” they are, rather, a collection of 
 sketches and dialogues — sometimes fact and 
 sometimes fiction. There are dry, disconnected 
 notes, piquant anecdotes, satirical sallies, pa¬ 
 thetic outpourings of her heart, and passionate 
 
 250 
 
The Governor’s Wife 
 
 accusations and confessions—all stored away with 
 aristocratic carelessness and confusion in t his 
 great portfolio. But in this portfolio, rich in 
 material, all must study and search who are in¬ 
 terested in the France of the end of the eigh¬ 
 teenth and beginning of the nineteenth century. 
 Of the thousands of sheets into which she has 
 broken the mirror of her time you will find in 
 each piece a picture of a rare woman—Madame 
 Junot herself. 
 
 ‘‘Often an eagle, always an angel,” says 
 Victor Hugo of Laura Junot. Not always! She 
 was simply one of the best-poised and sanest 
 women of the Empire, and as such she will ever 
 appear in the dickering light of time. If we 
 cannot always, with Victor Hugo, detect “her 
 noble wings,” at any rate we know that she 
 always had her little feet firmly placed on the 
 ground. Neither in ecstasy nor in the bitter¬ 
 ness of sorrow and despair did her clear spirit 
 ever lose its balance, and often she let her noble 
 wings faU with a Parisian shrug of her shoulders. 
 
 If any one thinks that, in the intrigue of this 
 book, there is laid too much weight on gloire and 
 carrQre, let them turn to the history of France in 
 1807. That was the proud year of power, honor, 
 260 
 
Author’s Notes 
 
 and triumph; and that was the time of the 
 “secret articles” of the Peace of Tilsit, which 
 were dictated by a semigod, and were accepted 
 by an autocratic enthusiast. Every event was 
 written with the heart-blood of the French nation. 
 
 At that period politics were a romance, excit¬ 
 ing beyond all others, and there was neither 
 dreamed nor lived a romance which did not 
 begin and end in politics. For, as Thiers some¬ 
 where says about him who was the all-powerful 
 master and dictator of the times: “ Onfaisait 
 alors la politique avec ses passions ! ” 
 
 261 
 
i 
 

Date Due 
 
M2d4G 
 
 7?184 
 
 839.013 
 
 M2540 
 
 77184