The Emperor had committed himself to my care. The Emperor was dead.
Those were the two thoughts which clanged in my head, until I had no
room for any other ones. He had come with me and he was dead. I had done
what he had ordered when living. I had revenged him when dead. But what
of all that? The world would look upon me as responsible. They might
even look upon me as the assassin. What could I prove? What witnesses
had I? Might I not have been the accomplice of these wretches? Yes, yes,
I was eternally dishonoured--the lowest, most despicable creature in all
France. This, then, was the end of my fine military ambitions--of the
hopes of my mother. I laughed bitterly at the thought. And what was I
to do now? Was I to go into Fontainebleau, to wake up the palace, and to
inform them that the great Emperor had been murdered within a pace of
me? I could not do it--no, I could not do it! There was but one course
for an honourable gentleman whom Fate had placed in so cruel a position.
I would fall upon my dishonoured sword, and so share, since I could not
avert, the Emperor's fate. I rose with my nerves strung to this last
piteous deed, and as I did so, my eyes fell upon something which struck
the breath from my lips. The Emperor was standing before me!

He was not more than ten yards off, with the moon shining straight upon
his cold, pale face. He wore his grey overcoat, but the hood was turned
back, and the front open, so that I could see the green coat of the
Guides, and the white breeches. His hands were clasped behind his back,
and his chin sunk forward upon his breast, in the way that was usual
with him.

'Well,' said he, in his hardest and most abrupt voice, 'what account do
you give of yourself?'

I believe that, if he had stood in silence for another minute, my brain