'No, Sire.'

'Diable! At least you are frank.'

'I could not go into exile, Sire.'

'And why?'

'Because I should be dead, Sire.'

Napoleon began to laugh.

'And there are some who say that our Berthier is dull-witted,' said he.
'Well, I think I am pretty sure of you, Berthier, for although I am fond
of you for reasons of my own I do not think that you would be of much
value to anyone else. Now I could not say that of you, Monsieur
Talleyrand. You would change very quickly to a new master as you have
changed from an old one. You have a genius, you know, for adapting
yourself.'

There was nothing which the Emperor loved more than to suddenly produce
little scenes of this sort which made everybody very uncomfortable, for
no one could tell what awkward or compromising question he was going to
put to them next. At present, however, they all forgot their own fears
of what might come in their interest at the reply which the famous
diplomatist might make to a suggestion which everybody knew to be so
true. He stood, leaning upon his black ebony stick, with his bulky
shoulders stooping forward, and an amused smile upon his face, as if the
most innocent of compliments had been addressed to him. One of his few
titles to respect is that he always met Napoleon upon equal terms, and
never condescended to fawn upon him or to flatter him.

'You think I should desert you, Sire, if your enemies offered me more
than you have given me?'

'I am perfectly sure that you would.'

'Well, really I cannot answer for myself, Sire, until the offer has been
made. But it will have to be a very large one. You see, apart from my
very nice hotel in the Rue St. Florentin, and the two hundred thousand
or so which you are pleased to allow me, there is my position as the
first minister in Europe. Really, Sire, unless they put me on the
throne I cannot see how I can better my position.'

'No, I think I have you pretty safe,' said Napoleon, looking hard at him
with thoughtful eyes. 'By the way, Talleyrand, you must either marry
Madame Grand or get rid of her, for I cannot have a scandal about the
Court.'

I was astounded to hear so delicate and personal a matter discussed in
this public way, but this also was characteristic of the rule of this
extraordinary man, who proclaimed that he looked upon delicacy and good
taste as two of the fetters with which mediocrity attempted to cripple
genius. There was no question of private life, f