en we had left Madame Valevska's residence a little later than
usual, the coachman upset us, and in trying to avoid a rut, drove the
carriage over the edge of the road. I was on the right of Madame
Valevska and the carriage fell on that side, in such a position that I
alone felt the shock of the fall, since Madame Valevska falling on me,
received no injury. I was glad to be the means of saving her, and when I
said this she expressed her gratitude with a grace peculiarly her own.
My injuries were slight; and I began to laugh the first, in which Madame
Valevska soon joined, and she related our accident to his Majesty
immediately on our arrival.

I could not undertake to describe all the care and attentions which the
Emperor lavished upon her. He had her brought to Paris, accompanied by
her brother, a very distinguished officer, and her maid, and gave the
grand marshal orders to purchase for her a pretty residence in the
Chaussee-d'Antin. Madame Valevska was very happy, and often said to me,
"All my thoughts, all my inspirations, come from him, and return to him;
he is all my happiness, my future, my life!" She never left her house
except to come to the private apartments at the Tuileries, and when this
happiness could not be granted, went neither to the theater, the
promenade, nor in society, but remained at home, seeing only very few
persons, and writing to the Emperor every day. At length she gave birth
to a son, [Count Walewski, born 1810; minister to England, 1852;
minister of foreign affairs, 1855-1860; died 1868.] who bore a striking
resemblance to the Emperor, to whom this event was a source of great joy;
and he hastened to her as soon as it was possible to escape from the
chateau, and taking the child in his arms, and caressing him, as he had
just caressed the mother, said to him, "I make you a count." Later we
shall see this son receiving at Fontainebleau a final proof of affection.

Madame Valevska reared her son at her residence, never leaving him, and
carried him often to the chateau, where I admitted them by the dark
staircase, and when either was sick the Emperor sent to them Monsieur
Corvisart. This skillful physician had on one occasion the happiness of
saving the life of the young count in a dangerous illness.

Madame Valevska had a gold ring made for the Emperor, around which she
twined her beautiful blonde hair, and on the inside of the ring were
engraved these words:

"When you cease to love me, do