took no notice of it, and put on the best possible countenance.

With the exception of the very slight apparent change made at
Fontainebleau by the presence of these gentlemen, no remarkable incident,
none at least in my knowledge, came to disturb the sad and monotonous
life of the Emperor in the palace. Everything remained gloomy and silent
among the inhabitants of this last imperial residence; but, nevertheless,
the Emperor personally seemed to me more calm since he had come to a
definite conclusion than at the time he was wavering in painful
indecision. He spoke sometimes in my presence of the Empress and his
son, but not as often as might have been expected. But one thing which
struck me deeply was, that never a single time did a a word escape his
lips which could recall the act of desperation of the night of the 11th,
which fortunately, as we have seen, had not the fatal results we feared.
What a night! What a night! In my whole life since I have never been
able to think of it without shuddering.

After the arrival of the commissioners of the allied powers, the Emperor
seemed by degrees to acclimate himself, so to speak, to their presence;
and the chief occupation of the whole household consisted of duties
relating to our preparations for departure. One day, as I was dressing
his Majesty, he said to me smiling, "Ah, well, my son, prepare your cart;
we will go and plant our cabbages." Alas! I was very far from thinking,
as I heard these familiar words of his Majesty, that by an inconceivable
concurrence of events, I should be forced to yield to an inexplicable
fatality, which did not will that in spite of my ardent desire I should
accompany the Emperor to his place of exile.

The evening before the day fixed for our departure the grand marshal of
the palace had me called. After giving me some orders relative to the