Napoleon and the Queen of Prussia - BestLightNovel.com
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Our cities and villages are filled with weeping mothers, and widows, and children, arraigning you as the destroyer of their sons, husbands, and fathers. Sire, have mercy on your own conscience, and restore peace to the world!"
"He is a.s.suredly insane," murmured Napoleon to himself. At this moment he cast his eyes on a miniature, fastened to a string, and lying on the table.
"What locket is that?" he asked.
"Sire," replied Rapp, "we took it from the a.s.sa.s.sin; he wore it on his neck."
Napoleon examined it. It contained the portrait of a beautiful woman.
"Whose portrait is it?"
"Sire," said Staps, in a solemn voice, "it is the portrait of my betrothed--my dearly beloved Anna."
"What!" exclaimed the emperor. "You have a sweet-heart--you have a mother and a father---you are in the flower of your life--and yet you intended to commit so horrible a crime! For you will not deny that murder is a crime."
"Murder in ordinary cases is one of the greatest crimes," said Staps, in his calm, gentle voice. "But to take your life--to rid the world of Napoleon--is no murder and no crime; it is an act of justice--nay, it is a sacred duty! If I had killed you, no one would have called me an a.s.sa.s.sin; my attempt is criminal because it did not succeed. That is what one of our own great poets says concerning certain actions:
'Conceived and unsuccessful--there's the crime!
Accomplished, it becomes a deed immortal.
And what succeeds will surely be forgiven, For G.o.d's own verdict lies in the result!"'[48]
[Footnote 48:
"Gedacht bloss und missgluckt--ist's nur ein Frevel, Vollbracht, ist's ein unsterblich Unternehmen.
Und was nur gluckt, das wird dann auch verziehen, Denn jeder Ausgang--ist ein Gottes-Urtheil!"
SCHILLER.
"And G.o.d, then, has decided against you," said Napoleon, quickly.
"No, G.o.d delays only the execution of the blow, and perhaps I am not the right instrument. He will choose another, and my successors will know better how to find your heart. Believe me, the Germans know how to do their duty; and to rid Germany of her tyrant, and restore peace to her people, is their duty."
"You have read a good deal, I suppose?" asked the emperor. "And it seems books have excited your imagination. What were your favorite works?"
"Sire, historical works," said Staps, calmly. "I derived from them the courage required for my deed."
"You know something of Brutus, then?" asked Napoleon, with a compa.s.sionate smile.
"There were two Brutuses. The last Brutus killed the tyrant, and died for liberty. Mankind have not ceased admiring him, as France has not ceased admiring the Maid of Orleans. She delivered her country from its enemies, but she was captured, and perished. I intended to do what that heroic maid did--save my native land from oppression, but G.o.d decreed that her destiny, and not her deed, should be mine."
"Does your father know of your folly?"
"Neither he nor my betrothed, nor any one else, knew of my purpose. I came hither alone, and alone I intended to accomplish it. Not until I had succeeded was its revelation to be made. And the news would have come to those I love as a pledge of peace--that the deluge of blood was over, and Germany saved!"
"Your father and your betrothed will now receive bad tidings of you. Are you not afraid of grieving them?"
"Both of them will weep for me--so will many other Germans, and their tears will water the flowers upon my grave."
"You believe, then, that I shall have you executed?"
"I should consider it but natural for you."
"But it may please me to pardon you. Tell me, in that case, what you would do?"
"Accomplish my purpose," replied Staps, calmly. "I have sworn to kill you. I must fulfil my oath or die!"
"Ah, you have either a morbid mind or a morbid body!" exclaimed Napoleon, vehemently.
"No, I have neither one nor the other," replied Staps, composedly; "my mind is healthy, and so is my body."
"Send for Corvisart," ordered the emperor, turning to his suite. "But let no one dare tell him what is transpiring here."
An adjutant hastened out, and Napoleon turned again to Staps. "Are you a freemason or one of the Illuminati?"
"Neither."
"Did you ever hear of Moreau and Pichegru?"
"I did."
"And what do you think of these men, who tried to take my life?"
"I think that they were afraid of death."
"Did you know Schill and Dornberg?"
Staps hesitated a moment, and replied: "I knew Schill. I saw him on the day after the battle of Jena, and we swore to devote our thoughts, our energies, and our lives, to the German fatherland, and never to grow weary in our struggle against the tyrant. There were three of us who took this oath. The first was Count Puckler, who shot himself; the second was shot, Ferdinand von Schill; the third will also be shot, Frederick Staps!"
"He is insane," repeated Napoleon, shuddering involuntarily at the tranquillity of the prisoner.
The door opened, and the emperor's physician, M. de Corvisart, entered.
"Corvisart, come hither," the emperor said, vehemently. "Examine this young man, and tell me what is the matter with him." The marshals and generals stepped aside, and the physician approached the prisoner, whose hands had been untied a moment previously. "Examine his pulse, Corvisart; examine him carefully and tell me whether he has a fever, or is insane."
Staps quietly stretched out his hand; Corvisart took it and laid his fingers on the pulse. Silence reigned in the room. The marshals and generals in full uniform surrounded the group; in the midst stood the emperor, whose face was sadder to-day than usual; at his side was Staps, with his gentle countenance and radiant look turned toward heaven, his right hand resting in that of the physician, who marked every pulsation with profound attention.
It was a scene worthy an artist's pencil. All were looking at the physician and waited breathlessly for his decision.
"Sire," said Corvisart, after a long pause, "this young man is in perfectly good health; his pulse is regular; there is nothing indicative of insanity in his eyes; his complexion is good, and in fact there is nothing in his appearance to denote the slightest indisposition."
"Ah," exclaimed Staps, with a triumphant smile, "you see that I was right. I am neither insane nor ill."
Napoleon stamped with anger, as his eyes flashed fire. "He is insane, Corvisart!" he exclaimed; "examine him again."
Corvisart, did so, and in a short time said: "Sire, I cannot but repeat my previous statement; I do not find a trace of fever or insanity. His pulse is perfectly regular."
"Well, then," said Napoleon, frowning, "this healthy person just tried to a.s.sa.s.sinate me!"