Napoleon's Young Neighbor Part 16

Undoubtedly these various legends, which Betsy had heard from her earliest childhood, tended to make her superst.i.tious. Napoleon soon found that she was easily frightened, and took advantage of this fact sometimes to tease her unmercifully. When he arrived at The Briars, one of Betsy's little brothers had as tutor an elderly man named Huff. The coming of Napoleon had a strange effect on the tutor's brain. Among other delusions, he believed that it was to fall on him to free the Emperor from his imprisonment and restore him to his throne again. Old Huff, as they called him, talked constantly on this subject and no one could reason with him. It was evident that the poor fellow was mad, but before it was decided to put him under guardians.h.i.+p he found a chance to kill himself, although he was closely watched. According to custom, he was buried at a spot where three crossroads meet. This happened to be a place near The Briars, and, in consequence, poor Betsy was far from happy. Napoleon, aware of her fears, would call out, just before she said good night to the household, "Mees Betsee, ole Huff, ole Huff."

Poor Betsy! She was indeed unhappy, and after these words lay long awake at night, and in the end often scrambled into her mother's room and stayed there until morning.

One evening, when Betsy and her mother and her sister Jane were sitting on the cottage porch enjoying the refres.h.i.+ng evening breeze, a strange noise made Betsy turn her head, and in an instant she had risen to her feet with a loud scream. In front of them now walked a figure dressed in white, not a very terrifying sight, except to one of Betsy's nervous temperament.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE BRIARS. From an old print]

Mrs. Balcombe at once understood the situation, for at the moment of the figure's appearance she had heard a smothered laugh that she recognized as Napoleon's. Advancing to the white figure, she turned back the covering, and underneath appeared the black face of a little slave, grinning from ear to ear.

"What brought you here?" asked Mrs. Balcombe sternly.

"To frighten Miss Betsy;" and the black girl pointed toward Napoleon, who had now come forward to see what effect his trick had had upon his young neighbor.

This little ghost scene had a wider effect than Napoleon intended, for it put the idea of playing ghost into the heads of other servants. One of the Balcombe slaves had lately run away and could not be found. The family suspected that he was hiding not far off, because every night pigs, poultry, bread, and other provisions were stolen in quant.i.ties, by whom n.o.body could tell. After a while Napoleon began to complain of thefts, but when the various black servants were questioned they all said that the thief must be a ghostly white figure that they saw skipping around the valley from rock to rock. That they believed what they said was shown by the alarm they showed, for none of them would go out alone by night.

"I believe that it really and truly is old Huff's ghost," insisted Betsy.

"You can't believe such a foolish thing; indeed, I should think you would know better after what happened the other evening, when you allowed yourself to be terrified by a little black girl," said her mother reprovingly. She added, "You look pale, Betsy. What is the trouble?"

"I can't help it. I may be foolish," responded poor Betsy, "but for nights and nights I have been afraid to close my eyes."

"All on account of the ghost," thought Mrs. Balcombe, wis.h.i.+ng that Betsy were less nervous.

Mr. Balcombe and some friends now undertook to catch the thief, feeling sure that he would prove to be a substantial individual. After long watching, one night they saw a figure move stealthily across the valley toward the house. They called upon it to stop, but when it neither obeyed nor answered, they felt obliged to shoot. A loud scream followed the report of the gun, and when they came upon the fallen figure they discovered the runaway slave Alley. He was badly hurt, although not fatally, and they did what they could for him. The next morning the whole party went to the cave to which Alley directed them. Napoleon accompanied them and was much interested in what he saw.

It reminded him of the catacombs of Paris, he exclaimed, as he looked about at the heaps of bones which the slave had placed in neatly arranged piles after he had gorged himself with food.

CHAPTER X

THE SERIOUS SIDE

As Betsy grew to know Napoleon better, she sometimes observed in his conversation and manner a sadness that she had not noticed earlier. This slight melancholy was especially evident when the conversation touched on Josephine or the little King of Rome. Often Napoleon gazed intently at Mrs. Balcombe, explaining as he did so that it was because she reminded him strongly of Josephine. He loved to talk of Josephine, especially with Madame Bertrand, who was a native of Martinique and was said also to be a distant relative of the Empress.

One day, for example, Madame Bertrand, in Betsy's presence, brought out a miniature of Josephine. The Emperor seemed deeply moved as he gazed at it.

"It is the most perfect likeness of her that I have ever seen."

"It is for you, sir," said Madame Bertrand simply.

Thanking her warmly, Napoleon added, "I will keep it until my death."

On this occasion the Emperor was especially inclined to talk about his first wife, and Betsy, hearing him, wondered that he had been willing to separate himself from her.

"Josephine," he said, "was the most feminine woman I have ever known--all charm and sweetness and grace. _Era la dama la piu graziosa in Francia._" Then he continued: "Josephine was the G.o.ddess of the toilet. All fas.h.i.+ons came from her. Besides this she was humane and always thoughtful of others. She was the best of women. Although the English and the Bourbons allow that I did some good, yet they generally qualify it by saying that it was chiefly through the instrumentality of Josephine. But the fact is that she never interfered in politics. Great as my veneration was for her, I could not bear to have it thought that she in any way ruled my public actions."

Napoleon's praises of Josephine continued to flow on.

"She was the greatest patroness of the arts known in France for years; but though I loved to attend to her whims, yet I always acted to please the nation, and whenever I obtained a fine statue or valuable picture I sent it to the Museum for the people's benefit. Josephine was grace personified. She never acted inelegantly during the whole time we lived together. Her toilet was perfection, and she resisted the inroads of time, to all appearances, by exquisite taste."

Napoleon spoke with deep emotion, "She was the best of women!"

Then, as if in answer to Betsy's unspoken question, he said:

"It was only political motives that led me to give her up. Nothing else would have separated me from a wife so tenderly loved. Thank G.o.d, she died without witnessing my last misfortune!"

From Josephine Napoleon turned to Maria Louisa, his second wife, the mother of his son, of whom he spoke tenderly and affectionately:

"She was an amiable and good wife. She would have followed me here, but they would not let her."

Napoleon next called Betsy's attention to one or two portraits of Maria Louisa, but Betsy, though she made no criticism, thought then, as she had thought at other times when studying the face of Maria Louisa, that the Austrian Princess was at a disadvantage when contrasted with the members of Napoleon's family, all of whom were handsome and looked intellectual.

This conversation about Josephine and Maria Louisa was interrupted by the arrival of a visitor, Count Piontkowski, lately arrived from Europe.

He was a Pole who had fought under Napoleon, and his love for his fallen leader had led him to follow into exile.

Napoleon himself had no clear remembrance of the Pole as an individual, and he was therefore the more deeply gratified by the spirit of devotion that had induced Piontkowski to make the long voyage to St. Helena for the sake of being near his old commander.

The long interview with the newcomer undoubtedly brought before Napoleon's mind many sad memories, and when he returned to them Betsy and the others noticed that he was in unusually low spirits. As he looked again at the portraits of Josephine and Maria Louisa he grew more and more dejected, and at last, excusing himself, he went to bed much earlier than usual, leaving the rest of the party under the influence of his melancholy.

When the second New Year came around, Napoleon was in less than his usual good spirits. It was not to Betsy, however, but to Dr. O'Meara that he said in reply to the physician's "Happy New Year":

"Perhaps the next one will find me better situated. Perhaps I shall be dead, which will be better still. Worse than this cannot be."

It was not the Emperor's habit to show his sadness for any great length of time. On this second New Year's the sisters were to go over to Longwood to carry their New Year greeting and to dine with Madame Bertrand.

When they first arrived at the house Betsy was disappointed that Napoleon was nowhere in sight and she wondered that no message or present came from him, for she knew that the French made a special festival of New Year's and recalled the generosity of the Emperor just a year before.

Still there was much to see and enjoy in Madame Bertrand's apartment, and she and Jane were examining with admiration the presents of Madame Bertrand and her family, when Napoleon himself entered the room. In each hand he was carefully carrying a beautiful Sevres cup. As the girls drew near to look at them, they saw that on one was a portrait of Napoleon himself, representing him in Turkish costume, and on the other the figure of an Egyptian woman drawing water.

"Here, Mdlles. Betsee and Jane," he exclaimed, "are two cups for you.

Accept them as a mark of the friends.h.i.+p I entertain for you both and for your kindness to Madame Bertrand."

Charmed with his beautiful presents, the girls thanked Napoleon warmly.

Betsy, indeed, was so delighted with her cup that she would not let it go out of her hands, and when at last the time for her departure came she wrapped it in many folds of cotton to carry it home--at considerable risk even then, as the journey was made on horseback.

Betsy was a keen observer, and although she was fond of paying Napoleon back in his own coin when he teased her, she appreciated the depth of his feelings in his more serious moments.

One beautiful day, when she went over to Longwood, she was impressed by the brilliancy of the atmosphere, which is, indeed, one of the charms of St. Helena. Standing on the rocks she watched the waves breaking and sparkling at their base and noted the sea beyond, glistening like a sheet of quicksilver. With her spirits especially buoyant under the influence of the wonderful day, she went up to St. Denis, one of the Emperor's suite.

"Where is the Emperor?" she asked gayly. "I want to see him."

The Frenchman shook his head so gravely that for the moment the smile left Betsy's face and she wondered if any misfortune had happened. After a moment of silence, St. Denis replied:

"The Emperor is watching the _Conqueror_, which is now coming in." The _Conqueror_ was the vessel bearing the flag of Admiral Pamplin, who was to succeed Admiral Malcom. "You will find the Emperor," continued St.

Denis, "near Madame Bertrand's, but he is in no mood for badinage to-day."