With bared heads, in stiff military attitude, they received their lord and master, the august emperor, expecting a gracious greeting.

But he passed on without looking at them, without even saluting them by a wave of his hand.

They looked after him with wondering, angry eyes, and, like the glittering tail of a comet, followed him into the castle, up the steps, and into the hall.
But as they entered the reception-room where he usually talked with them, Napoleon had already vanished in his private office, whose door swiftly closed behind him.
The marshals and generals, aids and staff officers, still waited.

The emperor would surely return, they thought.

He still had to give them his commands for the next day, his orders concerning what was to be done on the island of Lobau, what provision should be made for the care of the wounded, the sustenance of the uninjured, the rescue of the remains of his army.
But they waited in vain; Napoleon did not return to them, gave them no orders.