“Ah! there was no backing out of it, look you!  If he had taken it into his head to conquer the moon, we should have had to put everything in train, pack our knapsacks, and scramble up; luckily, he had no wish for that excursion.  The kings who were used to the comforts of a throne, of course, objected to be lugged off, so we had marching orders.  We march, we get there, and the earth begins to shake to its centre again.  What times they were for wearing out men and shoe-leather!  And the hard knocks that they gave us!  Only Frenchmen could have stood it.  But you are not ignorant that a Frenchman is a born philosopher; he knows that he must die a little sooner or a litter later.  So we used to die without a word, because we had the pleasure of watching the Emperor do this on the maps.”

Here the soldier swung quickly round on one foot, so as to trace a circle on the barn floor with the other.

“‘There, that shall be a kingdom,’ he used to say, and it was a kingdom.  What fine times they were!  Colonels became generals whilst you were looking at them, generals became marshals of France, and marshals became kings.  There is one of them still left on his feet to keep Europe in mind of those days, Gascon though he may be, and a traitor to France that he might keep his crown; and he did not blush for his shame, for, after all, a crown, look you, is made of gold.  The very sappers and miners who knew how to read became great nobles in the same way.  And I who am telling you all this have seen in Paris eleven kings and a crowd of princes all round about Napoleon, like rays about the sun!  Keep this well in your minds, that as every soldier stood a chance of having a throne of his own (provided he showed himself worthy of it), a corporal of the Guard was by way of being a sight to see, and they gaped at him as he went by; for every one came by his share after a victory, it was made perfectly clear in the bulletin.  And what battles they were!  Austerlitz, where the army was manoeuvred as if it had been a review; Eylau, where the Russians were drowned in a lake, just as if Napoleon had breathed on them and blown them in; Wagram, where the fighting was kept up for three whole days without flinching.  In short, there were as many battles as there are saints in the calendar.

“Then it was made clear beyond a doubt that Napoleon bore the Sword of God in his scabbard.  He had a regard for the soldier.  He took the soldier for his child.  He was anxious that you should have shoes, shirts, greatcoats, bread, and cartridges; but he kept up his majesty, too, for reigning was his own particular occupation.  But, all the same, a sergeant, or even a common soldier, could go up to him and call him ‘Emperor,’ just as you might say ‘My good friend’ to me at times.  And he would give an answer to anything you put before him.  He used to sleep on the snow just like the rest of us—­in short, he looked almost like an ordinary man; but I who am telling you