putting nonsense into other nations' heads, and stirring them up to
revolt. In short, we cleared a way through all these mobs of nations;

for wherever the Emperor appeared, we made a passage for him; for on
the land as on the sea, whenever he said, 'I wish to go forward,' we

made the way.
"There comes a final end to it at last. We are back in France; and in

spite of the bitter weather, it did one's heart good to breathe one's
native air again, it set up many a poor fellow; and as for me, it put

new life into me, I can tell you. But it was a question all at once of
defending France, our fair land of France. All Europe was up in arms

against us; they took it in bad part that we had tried to keep the
Russians in order by driving them back within their own borders, so

that they should not gobble us up, for those Northern folk have a
strong liking for eating up the men of the South, it is a habit they

have; I have heard the same thing of them from several generals.
"So the Emperor finds his own father-in-law, his friends whom he had

made crowned kings, and the rabble of princes to whom he had given
back their thrones, were all against him. Even Frenchmen and allies in

our own ranks turned against us, by orders from high quarters, as at
Leipsic. Common soldiers would hardly be capable of such abominations;

yet these princes, as they called themselves, broke their words three
times a day! The next thing they do is to invade France. Wherever our

Emperor shows his lion's face, the enemy beats a retreat; he worked
more miracles for the defence of France than he had ever wrought in

the conquest of Italy, the East, Spain, Europe, and Russia; he has a
mind to bury every foreigner in French soil, to give them a respect

for France, so he lets them come close up to Paris, so as to do for
them at a single blow, and to rise to the highest height of genius in

the biggest battle that ever was fought, a mother of battles! But the
Parisians wanting to save their trumpery skins, and afraid for their

twopenny shops, open their gates and there is a beginning of the
ragusades, and an end of all joy and happiness; they make a fool of

the Empress, and fly the white flag out at the windows. The Emperor's
closest friends among his generals forsake him at last and go over to

the Bourbons, of whom no one had ever heard tell. Then he bids us
farewell at Fontainbleau:

" 'Soldiers!' . . . (I can hear him yet, we were all crying just like
children; the Eagles and the flags had been lowered as if for a

funeral. Ah! and it was a funeral, I can tell you; it was the funeral
of the Empire; those smart armies of his were nothing but skeletons

now.) So he stood there on the flight of steps before his chateau, and
he said:

" 'Children, we have been overcome by treachery, but we shall meet
again up above in the country of the brave. Protect my child, I leave

him in your care. LONG LIVE NAPOLEON II.!'
"He had thought of killing himself, so that no one should behold

Napoleon after his defeat; like Jesus Christ before the Crucifixion,
he thought himself forsaken by God and by his talisman, and so he took

enough poison to kill a regiment, but it had no effect whatever upon
him. Another marvel! he discovered that he was mortal" target="_blank" title="a.不死的n.不朽的人物">immortal; and feeling

sure of his case, and knowing that he would be Emperor for ever, he
went to an island for a little while, so as to study the dispositions

of those folk who did not fail to make blunder upon blunder. Whilst he
was biding his time, the Chinese and the brutes out in Africa, the

Moors and what-not, awkward customers all of them, were so convinced
that he was something more than mortal, that they respected his flag,

saying that God would be displeased if any one meddled with it. So he
reigned over all the rest of the world, although the doors of his own

France had been closed upon him.
"Then he goes on board the same nutshell of a skiff that he sailed in

from Egypt, passes under the noses of the English vessels, and sets
foot in France. France recognizes her Emperor, the cuckoo flits from

steeple to steeple; France cries with one voice, 'Long live the
Emperor!' The enthusiasm for that Wonder of the Ages was thoroughly

genuine in these parts. Dauphine behaved handsomely; and I was
uncommonly pleased to learn that people here shed tears of joy on

seeing his gray overcoat once more.
"It was on March 1st that Napoleon set out with two hundred men to

conquer the kingdom of France and Navarre, which by March 20th had
become the French Empire again. On that day he found himself in Paris,

and a clean sweep had been made of everything; he had won back his
beloved France, and had called all his soldiers about him again, and

three words of his had done it all--'Here am I!' 'Twas the greatest
miracle God ever worked! Was it ever known in the world before that a

man should do nothing but show his hat, and a whole Empire became his?
They fancied that France was crushed, did they? Never a bit of it. A

National Army springs up again at the sight of the Eagle, and we all
march to Waterloo. There the Guard fall all as one man. Napoleon in

his despair heads the rest, and flings himself three times on the
enemy's guns without finding the death he sought; we all saw him do

it, we soldiers, and the day was lost! That night the Emperor calls
all his old soldiers about him, and there on the battlefield, which

was soaked with our blood, he burns his flags and his Eagles--the poor
Eagles that had never been defeated, that had cried, 'Forward!' in

battle after battle, and had flown above us all over Europe. That was
the end of the Eagles--all the wealth of England could not purchase

for her one tail-feather. The rest is sufficiently known.
"The Red Man went over to the Bourbons like the low scoundrel he is.

France is prostrate, the soldier counts for nothing, they rob him of
his due, send him about his business, and fill his place with nobles

who could not walk, they were so old, so that it made you sorry to see
them. They seize Napoleon by treachery, the English shut him up on a

desert island in the ocean, on a rock ten thousand feet above the rest
of the world. That is the final end of it; there he has to stop till

the Red Man gives him back his power again, for the happiness of
France. A lot of them say that he is dead! Dead? Oh! yes, very likely.

They do not know him, that is plain! They go on telling that fib to
deceive the people, and to keep things quiet for their tumble-down

government. Listen; this is the whole truth of the matter. His friends
have left him alone in the desert to fulfil a prophecy that was made

about him, for I forgot to tell you that his name Napoleon really
means the LION OF THE DESERT. And that is gospel truth. You will hear

plenty of other things said about the Emperor, but they are all
monstrous nonsense. Because, look you, to no man of woman born would

God have given the power to write his name in red, as he did, across
the earth, where he will be remembered for ever! . . . Long live

'Napoleon, the father of the soldier, the father of the people!' "
"Long live General Eble!" cried the pontooner.

"How did you manage not to die in the gorge of the redoubts at
Borodino?" asked a peasant woman.

"Do I know? we were a whole regiment when we went down into it, and
only a hundred foot were left standing; only infantry could have

carried it; for the infantry, look you, is everything in an army----"
"But how about the cavalry?" cried Genestas, slipping down out of the

hay in a sudden fashion that drew a startled cry from the boldest.
"He, old boy! you are forgetting Poniatowski's Red Lancers, the

Cuirassiers, the Dragoons, and the whole boiling. Whenever Napoleon
grew tired of seeing his battalions gain no ground towards the end of

a victory, he would say to Murat, 'Here, you! cut them in two for me!'
and we set out first at a trot, and then at a gallop, ONE, TWO! and

cut a way clean through the ranks of the enemy; it was like slicing an
apple in two with a knife. Why, a charge of cavalry is nothing more

nor less than a column of cannon balls."
"And how about the pontooners?" cried the deaf veteran.

"There, there! my children," Genestas went on, repenting in his
confusion of the sally he had made, when he found himself in the

middle of a silent and bewildered group, "there are no agents of
police spying here! Here, drink to the Little Corporal with this!"

"Long live the Emperor!" all cried with one voice.
"Hush! children," said the officer, concealing his own deep sorrow

with an effort. "Hush! HE IS DEAD. He died saying, GLORY, FRANCE, AND
BATTLE,' So it had to be, children, he must die; but his memory--