But Napoleon’s fate was already decided—­it was an inevitable one, and when the intelligence reached Malmaison that the enemy was approaching nearer and nearer, and that resistance was no longer made anywhere, and when Napoleon saw that all was lost, his throne, his crown, and even the love which he imagined he had for ever built up for himself in the hearts of the French people by his great deeds and victories—­when he saw this he determined to fly, no matter whither, but away from the France that would no longer rally to his call, the France that had abandoned him.

The emperor resolved to fly to Rochefort, and to embark there in order to return to Elba.  The provisional government that had established itself in Paris, and had sent an ambassador to Napoleon at Malmaison with the demand that he should depart at once, now instructed this ambassador to accompany the emperor on his journey, and not to leave him until he should have embarked.

Napoleon was ready to comply with this demand.  He determined to depart on the afternoon of the 30th of June.  He had nothing more to do but to take leave of his friends and family.  He did this with cold, tearless composure, with an immovable, iron countenance; no muscle of his face quivered, and his glance was severe and imperious.

But, when Hortense brought in her two sons, when he had clasped them in his arms for the last time, then a shadow passed over his countenance; then his pale compressed lips quivered, and he turned away to conceal the tears that stood in his eyes.

But Hortense had seen them, and in her heart she preserved the remembrance of these tears as the most precious gem of her departed fortune.  As the emperor then turned to her to bid her adieu in his former cold and immovable manner, Hortense, who well knew that a volcano of torments must be glowing under this cold lava, entreated him to grant her a last favor.

A painful smile illumined the emperor’s countenance for a moment.  There was, it seemed, still something that he could grant; he was not altogether powerless!  With a mute inclination of the head he signified his assent.  Hortense handed him a broad black belt.

“Sire,” said she, “wear this belt around your body and beneath your clothing.  Conceal it carefully, but in the time of necessity remember it and open it.”

The emperor took the belt in his hand, and its weight startled him.

“What does it contain?” asked he:  “I must know what it contains!”

“Sire,” said Hortense, blushing and hesitating:  “Sire, it is my large diamond necklace that I have taken apart and sewed in this belt.  Your majesty may need money in a critical moment, and you will not deny me this last happiness, your acceptance of this token.”

The emperor refused, but Hortense entreated him so earnestly that he was at last compelled to yield, and accept this love-offering.

They then took a hasty and mute leave of each other, and Hortense, in order to hide her tears, hastened with her children from the room.