It was only the old guard that gave him the imperial salute in full voice in the old way.
Nothing indicated to the Emperor more thoroughly the temper of the soldiers than that open indifference.

Why, even in Russia, ere their stiffened lips froze into silence, they had breathed out the old acclaim.

The Emperor remembered that grenadier who, when told by the surgeon that he feared to probe for a ball that had pierced his breast because he did not know what he would find, "If you probe deep enough to reach my heart," said the soldier with his dying breath, "you will find the Emperor." Grave-faced and frowning, shivering from time to time in the fierce, raw cold, the Emperor watched the troops march by.

Well, the day after to-morrow, if there were any left, they would acclaim him loud enough.
The Emperor was cold and cynical.

He had never allowed the life of men to stand in the way of his desires, but even his iron nerve, his icy indifference had been shaken.