Henceforward the young Louis made considerable progress. Although he was always extremely sensitive, he longed to share the dangers of others. Renault, imitating Mlle. Cochelet, tells this story of him:
At this time Prince Louis Napoleon was seven years old. One day, on the eve of the departure for that fatal campaign which, after two striking victories, ended with the disaster of Waterloo, Napoleon I., accompanied by Marshal Soult, entered his cabinet. He appeared sad and thoughtful. The tones of his voice, sharp and emphatic, revealed the preoccupation of his mind. Suddenly a child slips into the room. His features are stamped with grief, and he vainly struggles to restrain his emotion. He approaches, kneels before the Emperor, and, laying his head and hands on Napoleon’s knees, bursts into tears.
“What is the matter with you, Louis?” exclaims the Emperor, in a tone showing his annoyance at being interrupted. “Why have you come here? Why are you crying?”
The child, frightened, can only reply with sobs. By degrees he becomes calm, and then, in a sweet, sad voice, says: “Sire, my governess has just told me that you are leaving for the war. Oh! do not go--do not go!”
The Emperor could not but be touched by this solicitude, for the child was Prince Louis, the nephew whom he loved above all others.
“And why do you wish me not to go?” asked the Emperor sadly. Then, passing his hand through the child’s golden curls, he said: “Mon enfant, it is not the first time that I go _to the war_. Why should it trouble you? Never mind; I shall soon return.”
“Oh, my dear uncle,” said the boy, again bursting into tears, “those wicked Allies want to kill you! Oh, _uncle, let me go with you_!”
For a time the Emperor did not speak. Taking the child on his knee, he pressed him to his heart and embraced him warmly. The Emperor was deeply moved, but presently, when he had steadied his voice, he called, “Hortense! Hortense!” And as the Queen came hurrying into the room, Napoleon said: “Here, take my nephew out and give his governess a severe scolding for thoughtlessly putting such words into his mouth and exalting his sensibility.” Then, after addressing the boy affectionately, the Emperor, turning to Marshal Soult, who was labouring under deep emotion, said vivaciously: “Embrace him--he will have a good heart and a beautiful soul. He may be the hope of my race.”