The Daughter of an Empress

Time passes. As if under enchantment, earnest, immovable, silent, stand

the soldiers. Behind the cradle, her eyes and arms raised imploringly

toward heaven, stands the nurse, while the child continues to slumber,

smiling in its sleep.

At the expiration of an hour thus passed, the imperial infant moves,

throws up its little rosy arms, opens its eyes--it is awake!

A cry of triumph escapes the lips of all the soldiers--all arms were

stretched forth to seize him who, an hour before, had been their lord

and emperor.

The child, frightened by the aspect of these rough soldiers, bursts out

into a cry of alarm, and stretches out its little arms toward its nurse.

She takes him in her arms and weeps over him. The frightened child

buries its little face in the bosom of his nurse, and the soldiers

now convey them both to the waiting sledges. The dethroned emperor is

quickly transported to the dethroned regent at Elizabeth's palace, who,

with hot tears, clasps her son to her heart.