“Where is your dispatch?” he inquired. “Give it to me. I will send it to the Emperor.”
Balashëv replied that he had been ordered to hand it personally to the Emperor.
“Your Emperor’s orders are obeyed in your army, but here,” said Davout, “you must do as you’re told.”
And, as if to make the Russian general still more conscious of his dependence on brute force, Davout sent an adjutant to call the officer on duty.
Balashëv took out the packet containing the Emperor’s letter and laid it on the table (made of a door with its hinges still hanging on it, laid across two barrels). Davout took the packet and read the inscription.
“You are perfectly at liberty to treat me with respect or not,” protested Balashëv, “but permit me to observe that I have the honor to be adjutant general to His Majesty. …”
Davout glanced at him silently and plainly derived pleasure from the signs of agitation and confusion which appeared on Balashëv’s face.
“You will be treated as is fitting,” said he and, putting the packet in his pocket, left the shed.
A minute later the marshal’s adjutant, de Castrès, came in and conducted Balashëv to the quarters assigned him.
That day he dined with the marshal, at the same board on the barrels.