Napoleon's Young Neighbor Part 11

"That is not enough. I will feed you, little _bambino_, I will feed you;" and with spoon in hand Napoleon actually began to feed the little girl, laughing steadily at her as he did so.

Only by running away did Betsy at last escape, and even then the Emperor called after her:

"Stop, Mees Betsy, do stay and eat another. You know you told me you liked them."

The next day Marchand brought to the sisters a box of bonbons with the Emperor's compliments, and with them came some of the famous creams for "Mdlle. Betsee."

CHAPTER VII

OFF FOR LONGWOOD

New Year's Day was approaching, the day which French people love to celebrate by making gifts to their friends and paying compliments.

On this first New Year's morning of Napoleon's exile on St. Helena, Betsy, looking from her window, saw young Tristram Montholon and Henri Bertrand approaching.

"Look, Jane," she cried excitedly, "they are carrying something; do you suppose--"

But without finishing her question or waiting for Jane to answer, Betsy had taken the shortest way to gratify her curiosity by running to greet the boys. Immediately the two little fellows saluted her with New Year wishes and before she could ask a question had presented each sister--for Jane had followed her--with a beautiful crystal basket.

"Something Piron made for you," the boys explained; and the fingers of the two girls trembled with excitement as they began to uncover the contents of the baskets. Piron, Napoleon's _confiseur_, could do the most remarkable things. There was nothing he could not reproduce in sugar--palaces, triumphal arches, all kinds of curious structures--all looking too good to eat. Already Betsy and Jane had received presents from the Emperor, products of Piron's skill, accompanied usually by some pleasant message. But this New Year's gift surpa.s.sed their expectations, for when they tore off the white satin napkin, inside the baskets they saw that delicious bonbons were heaped within them on Sevres plates, a plate for each girl.

"Cupidons for the Graces," was Napoleon's message accompanying the kindly gift.

The first of the new year brought a certain regret to the family at The Briars and to Napoleon as well. His new home at Longwood was nearly ready for him, and this meant that he should see much less of the charming family to which he had become attached. Longwood was several miles away, and the chance was that there he would be guarded more closely and that it might be harder for the girls to see him.

For the two months before New Year's, Longwood was as busy a place as a dock-yard in war. The Admiral was often there, hurrying lazy workmen.

Every day two or three hundred seamen carried timber and other building materials and furniture to Longwood. Although Napoleon was in no hurry to go there--indeed, he did not wish to go there at all--he watched the workmen with great interest, as he observed them climbing up the heights between Longwood and The Briars. He would really have preferred to make The Briars his home, and he tried to get the Government to buy it for him, but for reasons, perhaps political, this could not be accomplished.

Longwood, in situation, was bleak and unshaded, and so exposed that it was not likely he could ever have a garden such as that at The Briars.

Water had to be brought from a distance of three miles, and the houses that were to be remodelled for the French were known to be damp and unhealthy. The farmhouses which Napoleon was to occupy were very plain and have even been called a collection of huts. The expenditure of much money could not make the place really comfortable.

Napoleon had now been on the island nearly three months. No longer was he regarded by any one with dread, at least by any one who had come under his immediate influence. By the Balcombe family he was esteemed an amiable friend. They had had the chance to see him under all kinds of conditions, and if they did not regard him as exactly perfect, their feeling for him was one not only of great sympathy but respect.

As the time for his departure approached he came more often to the drawing-room at The Briars.

"Ah," he said, half sadly, to the family, "I would rather stay here than go to Longwood. I could never have imagined it possible to be happy on such a horrible rock as St. Helena."

One day General Bertrand, coming over from Longwood, told Napoleon the house smelled so of paint that it was not fit for him at present. All Napoleon's friends knew his great dislike for unpleasant odors, and that paint was especially disagreeable to him.

When the Emperor heard this report of the condition of Longwood, his rage almost choked him. He walked up and down the lawn, gesticulating wildly.

"I will not live in a house that smells of paint. It is most horrible. I will send to the Admiral and refuse to go."

Betsy had hardly ever seen him display such temper as he now showed, declaiming against the lack of consideration shown by the Governor. This excitement was a result probably of his general dislike for his new home. Although first interested in the workmen, toward the end he began to complain of the fifes and drums with which the soldier workmen urged themselves on as they wound their way up the hill. He had disliked Longwood from the day when he had first seen it, just after his arrival on the island, and what he heard about it had not changed his opinion.

No family, it was said, had ever lived there longer than a few months, so unwholesome was its climate. This came from the situation of the place--a plain on the top of a mountain, eighteen hundred feet high. It was on the windward side of the island, and only for a month or six weeks in the year was the weather pleasant. For three or four weeks it had the sun directly overhead; the rest of the year was wet and disagreeable. In the course of a single day there could be extreme changes of heat and cold.

At last the day of departure came. Sir George c.o.c.kburn and all the Emperor's suite, some of whom lived at a distance from The Briars, came over to escort him. The younger members of the family stood around the house, showing their sadness very plainly.

"You must not cry, Mdlle. Betsee," said Napoleon kindly. "You must come to see me next week, and very often."

"Oh, yes, I want to, but that will depend on my father."

Then Napoleon turned to Mr. Balcombe. "Balcombe, you must bring Misses Jane and Betsee next week to see me, eh? When will you ride up to Longwood?"

"Indeed, I will bring them soon," responded Mr. Balcombe.

"But where is your mother?" added the Emperor, casting his eye over the group that had gathered to bid him good-bye.

"She sent her kind regards to you," replied Betsy, "but is sorry that she is not well enough to come down."

"Then I will go up to her;" and Napoleon impulsively ran upstairs before word could be given of his approach.

When Napoleon entered her room, Mrs. Balcombe was lying down. The girls, who had followed him, saw him sit down on the edge of her bed as he thanked her very warmly for all her attention to him.

"I should have preferred to stay at The Briars. I am sorry to go to Longwood," he said; and then he handed a little package to her, saying, "Now please give this to your husband as a mark of my friendship."

"This" proved to be a beautiful gold snuffbox.

As he turned to leave the room, Napoleon saw the red-eyed Betsy standing near the door.

"Here, my dear," he said, putting something in her hand, "you can give this as a _gage d'amour_ to pet.i.t Las Cases."

Betsy had no heart now to reply to a jest that ordinarily would have brought out a spirited reply. But with the beautiful bon-bonniere in her hand, she ran out of the room and took a post at a window where she could see Napoleon. Her tears continued to flow and she found that she could not bear to look longer at the departing Emperor. At last she had to run to her own room, where, throwing herself on a bed, she wept bitterly for a long time.

It was true, as Betsy knew, that Longwood was not so very far from The Briars, and that it was not likely that she would be restrained from going there sometimes. Yet in spite of this knowledge the little girl realized that she had lost a great deal by the departure of the Emperor from her father's house.

Friends, and enemies too, of Napoleon in Europe would have been amazed at that moment to know that the man who so short a time before had been dreaded as the commander of one of the world's greatest armies, was now bewailed by a little girl as a lost playmate, for as playmate and friend Betsy had certainly come to regard him, and she regretted his removal to Longwood, not only because it was farther away, but because he was likely to be hedged in with a greater ceremony that might prevent her from seeing much of him.

Mr. Balcombe went with Napoleon to Longwood, and when he returned the girls asked eagerly how the Emperor liked the new residence.

"He seemed out of spirits. He went soon to his own room and shut himself in;" and at this report they sympathized with his loneliness.

Betsy and Jane, fortunately, were not to be shut off altogether from their friend. Their father was purveyor to the Emperor, and this meant that he had a general order to visit Longwood and could take his daughters with him. Thus it happened that hardly a week pa.s.sed without their going there to call, to their own great delight as well as to the satisfaction of Napoleon, who never tired of them.

Usually their visits were so timed that they could breakfast with the Emperor at one, and for the most part they found him much the same as he had been at The Briars. After a while, however, they could not help noticing that he was less cheerful than formerly.

About a week after his departure, Betsy and her mother and sister made their first visit to Longwood to call on the Emperor.

"Ah, there he is," Betsy cried; and looking ahead, they saw him seated on the steps of the billiard-room, talking to little Tristram Montholon.

The moment Napoleon caught sight of them, he hastened toward them.

Saluting them pleasantly, he kissed Mrs. Balcombe and Jane on each cheek, while he pinched Betsy's ear, as he said: "Ah, Mdlle. Betsee, _etes-vous sage_, eh, eh?"

Then, with the eagerness of a boy anxious to display a new toy, he added, "What do you think of the place? I must show you over it. Come, follow me!"

So the Emperor walked ahead of Mrs. Balcombe and her daughters, leading them first to his bedroom. Betsy thought this room small and cheerless, though she did not say so to Napoleon.

As she looked about she observed that the walls were covered with fluted nankeen, that on the wall were many family pictures that she recognized, while the bed was the well-known camp bed with the green silk hangings, the bed Napoleon had used in his Marengo and Austerlitz campaigns.