THE SECRETARY

Emperor, generals, and officials all streamed away to the review,
leaving me with a gentle-looking, large-eyed man in a black suit with
very white cambric ruffles, who introduced himself to me as Monsieur de
Meneval, private secretary to His Majesty.

'We must get some food, Monsieur de Laval,' said he. 'It is always
well, if you have anything to do with the Emperor, to get your food
whenever you have the chance. It may be many hours before he takes a
meal, and if you are in his presence you have to fast also. I assure
you that I have nearly fainted from hunger and from thirst.'

'But how does the Emperor manage himself?' I asked. This Monsieur de
Meneval had such a kindly human appearance that I already felt much at
my ease with him.

'Oh, he, he is a man of iron, Monsieur de Laval. We must not set our
watches by his. I have known him work for eighteen hours on end and
take nothing but a cup or two of coffee. He wears everybody out around
him. Even the soldiers cannot keep up with him. I assure you that I
look upon it as the very highest honour to have charge of his papers,
but there are times when it is very trying all the same. Sometimes it
is eleven o'clock at night, Monsieur de Laval, and I am writing to his
dictation with my head aching for want of sleep. It is dreadful work,
for he dictates as quickly as he can talk, and he never repeats
anything. "Now, Meneval," says he suddenly, "we shall stop here and
have a good night's rest." And then, just as I am congratulating