ce answered these arrogant and insulting words; the marshals
stood silent and respectful, and still seemed to listen to the voice of
the oracle which had just announced to the portraits of the royal
ancestors of the present king the downfall of their house. But
Napoleon's brow, which had momentarily beamed with proud thoughts, was
again clouded. Joining his hands on his back, he crossed the hall to the
large central window, from which there was a fine and extensive view of
the lawn, with its old trees and splendid statues, and beyond, of the
Havel and its hilly banks. He gazed gloomily at this landscape, then
turned and looked again at the pictures, but only for a moment, as
though he would threaten them once more, and make them feel again the
angry glance of him who had come to dethrone their descendant and
appropriate his crown. Then he fixed his eyes on the portrait of a
handsome woman whose large blue eyes seemed to gaze at him, and her
crimson lips to greet him with a winning smile. Quite involuntarily, and
as if attracted by the beauty of this likeness, he approached and
contemplated it long and admiringly.

"Truly," he said, "that is a charming creature. That lady must have been
wondrously lovely, and at the same time surpassingly graceful and
high-spirited."

"Sire," said Duroc, who had followed him and overheard his words, "sire,
she is still wondrously lovely, and, as your majesty says, surpassingly
graceful and high-spirited. It is the portrait of Queen Louisa of
Prussia."

A dark expression mantled Napoleon's face, and, bending an angry glance
on Duroc, he said, "It is well known that you were always foolishly in
love with the Queen of Prussia, and, according to your statement, one
might believe there was no woman in the whole world so beautiful as she
is." He turned his back on the painting and stepped to the next one:
"And this, then, doubtless, is Frederick William III.?"

"Yes, sire, it is the portrait of the reigning king."

"Of the reigning king?" repeated the emperor, with a scornful smile. "It
is a very good-natured face," he added, looking at the full-sized
portrait; "and as I behold his gentle, timid air, I comprehend that he
allows himself to be directed by advisers, and follows the will of
others rather than his own. But this little King of Prussia is taller
than I thought!"

"Sire, he is about as tall as the Grand-duke of Berg," said Duroc.

"As Murat?" asked Napoleon. "It never seemed t