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Mr. Bonaparte of Corsica

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Louis the XVIII., and ask him if his luggage is ready. Make out his bill, and when he has paid it, tell him that I have ordered the 6:10 train to start at 9:48. He can easily catch it." "He has already departed, Sire," returned Fouche. "He had an imperative engagement in the Netherlands. In his haste he left his crown hanging on the hat-rack in the hall." "Well, send it to him," replied Bonaparte. "I don't want HIS crown. I want my own. It shall never be said that I robbed a poor fellow out of work of his hat." Settled once more upon his imperial throne, the main question which had previously agitated the Emperor and his advisers, and particularly his stage-manager, Fouche, whom he now restored to his old office, came up once more. "What next?" and it was harder to answer than ever, for Bonaparte's mind was no longer alert. He was listless and given to delay, and, worst of all, invariably sleepy. It was evident that Elba had not proved as restful as had been hoped. "You should not have returned," said Fouche, firmly. "America was the field for you. That's where all great actors go sooner or later, and they make fortunes. A season in New York would have made you a new man. As it is you are an old man. It seems to me that if an Irishman can leave Queenstown with nothing but his brogue and the clothes on his back and become an alderman of New York or Chicago inside of two years, you with all the advertising you've had ought to be able to get into Congress anyhow--you've got money enough for the Senate." "But they are not my children, those Americans," remonstrated Napoleon, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Well, France isn't the family affair it once was, either," retorted Fouche, "and you'll find it out before long. However, we've got to do the best we can. Swear off your old ways and come out as a man of Peace. Flatter the English, and by all means don't ask your mother- in-law Francis Joseph to send back the only woman you ever loved. He's got her in Vienna, and he's going to keep her if he has to put her in a safe-deposit vault." It would have been well for Napoleon had he heeded this advice, but as he walked about the Tuileries alone, and listened in vain for the King of Rome's demands for more candy, and failed to see that interesting infant sliding down the banisters and loading his toy cannons with his mother's face-powder, he was oppressed by a sense of loneliness, and could not resist the temptation to send for them. "This will be the last chip I'll put on my shoulder, Fouche," he pleaded. "Very well," returned Fouche. "Put it there, but I warn you. This last chip will break the Empire's back." The demand was made upon Austria, and, as Fouche had said, the answer was a most decided refusal, and the result was war. Again the other powers allied against Napoleon. The forces of the enemy were placed under Wellington. Bonaparte led his own in person, buying a new uniform for the purpose. "We can handle them easily enough," said he, "if I can only keep awake. My situation at present reminds me so much of the old Bromide days that I fall asleep without knowing it by a mere association of ideas. Still, we'll whip 'em out of their boots." "What boots?" demanded Fouche. "Their Wellingtons and their Bluchers," retorted the Emperor, thereby showing that, sleepy as he was, he had not lost his old-time ability at repartee. For once he was over-confident. He fought desperately and triumphantly for three or four days, but the fates held Waterloo in store. Routing the enemy at Ligny and Quatre Bras, he pushed on to where Wellington stood in Belgium, where, on the 18th of June, was fought the greatest of his battles. "Now for the transformation scene," said Bonaparte on the eve of the battle. "If the weather is good we'll make these foreigners wish they had worn running-shoes instead of Wellingtons." But the weather was not clear. It was excessively wet, and by nightfall Bonaparte realized that all was over. His troops were in fine condition, but the rain seemed to have put out the fires of the Commander's genius. As the Imperial Guard marched before him in review the Emperor gazed upon them fondly. "They're like a picture!" he cried, enthusiastically. "Just see that line." "Yes," returned Ney. "Very like a picture; they remind me in a way of a comic paper print, but that is more suitable for framing than for fighting." The Emperor making no response, Ney looked up and observed that his Majesty had fallen asleep. "That settles it," he sighed. "To-day is the Waterloo of Napoleon Bonaparte. When a man sleeps at a moment like this his friends would better prepare for a wake." And Ney was right. Waterloo was the Waterloo of Napoleon Bonaparte. The opposing armies met in conflict, and, as the world knows, the star of the great soldier was obscured forever, and France was conquered. Ruined in his fortunes, Bonaparte at once returned to Paris. "Is there a steamer for New York to-night, Fouche?" he asked, as, completely worn out, he threw himself upon his throne and let his chin hang dejectedly over his collar. "No, Sire," returned Fouche, with an ill-concealed chuckle. "There is not. You've missed your chance by two days. Then isn't another boat for ten days." "Then I am lost," sobbed Napoleon. "Yes, Sire, you are," returned Fouche. "Shall I offer a reward to anybody who will find you and return you in good order?" "No," replied the Emperor. "I will give myself up." "Wise man!" said Fouche, unsympathetically. "You're such a confounded riddle that I wonder you didn't do it long ago." "Ah, Fouche!" sighed the Emperor, taking his crown out of his wardrobe and crushing it in his hands until the diamonds fell out upon the floor, "this shows the futility of making war without preparing for it by study. When I was a young man I was a student. I knew the pages of history by heart, and I learned my lessons well. While I was the student I was invincible. In mimic as in real war I was the conqueror. Everything I undertook came about as I had willed because I was the master of facts--I dealt in facts, and I made no mistakes. To-day I am a conquered man, and all because I have neglected to continue the study of the history of my people--of my adopted native land."

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