from the cabinet, and hardly entered into the confidence of the bedroom.
I only recall that there was some discussion of the matter, though very
vague, that same day in the household; and, besides, it was evident that
something extraordinary was taking place, and the whole day his Majesty
seemed more depressed than at any previous time; but, nevertheless, I was
far from anticipating the agony which followed this fatal day!

I beg the reader in advance to give earnest attention to the event which
I shall now relate. I now become a historian, since I inscribe the
painful remembrance of a striking act in the career of the Emperor; of an
event which has been the subject of innumerable controversies, though it
has been necessarily only a matter of surmise, since I alone knew all the
painful details. I refer to the poisoning of the Emperor at
Fontainebleau. I trust I do not need to protest my perfect truthfulness;
I feel too keenly the great importance of such a revelation to allow
myself to omit or add the least circumstance to the truth. I shall
therefore relate events just as they occurred, just as I saw them, and as
memory, has engraved the painful details indelibly on my mind.

On the 11th of April I undressed the Emperor as usual, I think rather
earlier than usual; for, if I remember aright, it was not quite half-past
ten. As he retired he appeared to me better than during the day, and in
nearly the same condition he had been on previous evenings. I slept in a
room on the next floor, situated behind the Emperor's room, with which it
communicated by a small, dark staircase. For some time past I had slept
in my clothes, in order to attend the Emperor more promptly if he should
call me; and I was sleeping soundly, when at midnight I was awaked by
M. Pelard, who was on duty. He told me that the Emperor had asked for
me, and on opening my eyes I saw on his face an expression of alarm which
astounded me. I threw myself out of the bed, and rapidly descended the