wistfully forgive her efficient honour

and howled dismally, and drove
the rain violently against the window-panes; within, an ominous,
oppressive silence prevailed. The commotion of Nature contrasted, and
yet, at the same time, harmonized strangely with this human silence.
Napoleon broke this silence but once, and that was when, in a harsh
voice, he asked the lackey, who stood behind him, what time it was. Then
all was still as before.

At last Napoleon gave the signal to rise from the table, and coffee was
then taken standing. Napoleon drank hastily, and then set the cup down
with a trembling hand, making it ring out as it touched the table. With
an angry gesture he dismissed the attendants.

"Sire, may Hortense remain?" asked Josephine, almost inaudibly.

"No!" exclaimed the emperor, vehemently. Hortense made a profound
obeisance, and, taking leave of her mother with a look of tender
compassion, left the room, followed by the rest.

The imperial pair were now alone. And how horrible was this being left
alone under the circumstances; how sad the silence in which they sat
opposite each other! How strange the glance which the emperor fastened
on his wife!

She read in his excited, quivering features the struggle that moved his
soul, but she also read in them that her hour was come!

As he now approached her, his outstretched hand trembled, and Josephine
shudderingly recoiled.

Napoleon took her hand in his, and laid it on his heart, regarding her
with a long and sorrowful farewell-glance.

"Josephine," said he, his voice trembling with emotion, "my good
Josephine, you know that I have lov