She had the habit of then collecting around her her most intimate ladies and a few friends, and giving them tea.  Gaming was entirely precluded from these nocturnal reunions, of which conversation was the only charm.  This conversation of the highest circles of society was a most agreeable relaxation to the Empress; and this select circle assembled frequently without the Emperor being aware of it, and was, in fact, a very innocent entertainment.  Nevertheless, some obliging person was so indiscreet as to make the Emperor a report concerning these assemblies, containing matters which roused his displeasure.  He expressed his dissatisfaction to the Empress Josephine, and from that time she retired at the same time as the Emperor.

These teas were then abandoned, and all persons attached to the service of the Emperor received orders not to sit up after the Emperor retired.

As well as I remember, this is how I heard his Majesty express himself on the occasion.  “When the masters are asleep, the valets should retire to bed; and when the masters are awake, the valets should be on their feet.”  These words produced the intended effect; and that very evening, as soon as the Emperor was in bed, all at the palace retired, and at half-past eleven no one was awake but the sentinels.

By degrees, as always occurs, the strict observance of the Emperor’s orders was gradually relaxed, still without the Empress daring to resume her nocturnal gatherings.  The words of his Majesty were not forgotten, however, and were well remembered by M. Colas, concierge of the pavilion of Flora.

One morning about four o’clock, M. Colas heard an unaccustomed noise, and a continued movement in the interior of the palace, and supposed from this that the Emperor was awake, in which he was not mistaken.  He dressed in all haste, and had been ten minutes at his post when the Emperor, descending the staircase with Marshal Duroc, perceived him.  His Majesty usually took pleasure in showing that he remarked exactness in fulfilling his orders; therefore he stopped a moment, and said to M. Colas, “Ah! already awake, Colas?”—­“Yes, Sire; I have not forgotten that valets should be on foot when the masters are awake.”—­“You have a good memory, Colas; an excellent thing.”

All this was very well, and the day began for M. Colas under most favorable auspices; but in the evening the medal of the morning was obliged to show the opposite side.  The Emperor went that morning to visit the works on the canal of the Ourcq.  He was apparently much dissatisfied; for he returned to the palace in such evident illhumor, that M. Colas, perceiving it, let these words escape his lips, “Il y a de l’oignon.”  Although he spoke in a low tone, the Emperor heard him, and turning abruptly to him, repeated angrily, “Yes, Monsieur, you are not mistaken; il y a de l’oignon.”  He then rapidly remounted the staircase, while the concierge, fearing he had said too much, approached the grand marshal, begging him to excuse him to his Majesty; but he never had an idea of punishing him for the liberty he had taken, and the expression which had escaped his lips one would hardly expect to find in the imperial vocabulary.