"Well, France isn't the family affair it once was, either," retorted
Fouche, "and you'll find it out before long. However, we've got to
do the best we can. Swear off your old ways and come out as a man of
Peace. Flatter the English, and by all means don't ask your mother-
in-law Francis Joseph to send back the only woman you ever loved.
He's got her in Vienna, and he's going to keep her if he has to put
her in a safe-deposit vault."
It would have been well for Napoleon had he heeded this advice, but
as he walked about the Tuileries alone, and listened in vain for the
King of Rome's demands for more candy, and failed to see that
interesting infant sliding down the banisters and loading his toy
cannons with his mother's face-powder, he was oppressed by a sense of
loneliness, and could not resist the temptation to send for them.
"This will be the last chip I'll put on my shoulder, Fouche," he
pleaded.
"Very well," returned Fouche. "Put it there, but I warn you. This
last chip will break the Empire's back."
The demand was made upon Austria, and, as Fouche had said, the answer
was a most decided refusal, and the result was war.
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