re you able to overhear my conversation with the queen?" he asked.

"I was, sire!" said Talleyrand, laconically, "I was able to overhear
every word."

"You know, then, for what purpose she came hither," exclaimed Napoleon,
and commenced again pacing the apartment.

"Talleyrand," he said, after a pause, "I have wronged this lady. She is
an angel of goodness and purity, she is a true woman and a true queen.
It was a crime for me to persecute her. Yes, I confess that I was wrong
in offending her. On merely hearing the sound of her voice I felt
vanquished, and was as confused and embarrassed as the most timid of
men. My hand trembled when I offered her the rose. I have slandered her,
but I will make compensation!" He resumed his walk rapidly; a delicate
blush mantled his cheeks, and all his features indicated profound
emotion. Talleyrand, looking as cold and calm as usual, still stood at
the door, and seemed to watch the emperor with the scrutinizing eye of a
physician observing the crisis of a disease.

"Yes," added Napoleon, "I ought certainly to compensate her for what I
have done. She shall weep no more on my account; she shall no more hate
and detest me as a heartless conqueror. I will show her that I can be
magnanimous, and compel her to admit that she was mistaken in me. I will
raise Prussia from the dust. I will render her more powerful than ever,
and enlarge her frontiers instead of narrowing them. And then, when her
enchanting eyes are filled with gladness, I will offer my hand to her
husband and say to him: 'You were wrong; you were insincere toward me,
and I punished you for it. Now let us forget your defeats and my
victories; instead of weakening your power, I will increase it that you
may become my ally, and remain so forever!' Talleyrand, destroy the
conditions I dictated to you; send for Count Goltz; confer with him
again, and grant his demands!"

"Sire," exclaimed Talleyrand, apparently in dismay, "sire, shall
posterity say that you failed to profit by your most splendid conquest,
owing to the impression a beautiful woman made upon you?" The emperor
started, and Talleyrand added: "Sire, has the blood of your soldiers who
fell at Jena, at Eylau, and at Friedland, been shed in vain, and is it
to be washed away by the tears of a lady who now appears to be as
inoffensive as a lamb, but who is to blame for this whole war? Your
majesty ought not to forget that the Queen of Prussia instigated her
husband to b