the emperor’s chamber.  The usher of the chamber, thinking she was taken ill, was on the point of opening the door, when I prevented him, observing, that the emperor would call for assistance if he thought it necessary.  I was standing close to the door, when the emperor himself opened it, and perceiving me, said quickly “Come in, Bausset, and shut the door.”  I entered the chamber, and saw the empress Josephine stretched on the carpet, uttering piercing cries and complaints.  “No, I will never survive it,” said she.  Napoleon said to me, “Are you sufficiently strong to raise Josephine, and to carry her to her apartments by the private staircase, in order that she may receive the care and assistance which she requires?” I obeyed, and raised the princess, who, I thought, was seized with a nervous affection.  With the aid of Napoleon, I raised her into my arms, and he himself taking a light from the table, opened the door, which, by an obscure passage, led to the little staircase of which he had spoken.  When we reached the first step of the staircase, I observed to Napoleon, that it was too narrow for it to be possible for me to descend without the danger of falling.  He forthwith called the keeper of the portfolio, who day and night was in attendance at one of the doors of his closet, the entrance to which was on the landing-place of this little staircase.  Napoleon gave him the light, of which we had little need, for the passages had become light.  He commanded the keeper to go on before, and took himself the legs of Josephine in order to assist me in descending with less difficulty.  At one moment, however, I was embarrassed by my sword, and I thought we must have fallen, but fortunately we descended without any accident, and deposited the precious burden on an ottoman in the sleeping-chamber.  Napoleon immediately pulled the little bell, and summoned the empress’s women.  When I raised the empress in the chamber she ceased to moan, and I thought that she had fainted; but at the time I was embarrassed by my sword in the middle of the little staircase, of which I have already spoken, I was obliged to hold her firmly to prevent a fall which would have been dreadful to the actors in this melancholy scene.  I held the empress in my arms, which encircled her waist, her back rested against my chest, and her hand leaned upon my right shoulder.  When she felt the efforts which I made to prevent falling, she said to me in a very low tone, “You press me too hard.”  I then saw that I had nothing to fear for her health, and that she had not for an instant lost her senses.  During the whole of this scene I was wholly occupied with Josephine, whose situation afflicted me; I had not power to observe Napoleon; but when the empress’s women had come, he retired into a little room which preceded the sleeping-chamber, and I followed him.  His agitation, his inquietude were extreme.  In the distress which he felt he made me acquainted with the cause of every thing that had happened, and said