and Lowe became alarmed lest he should kill some human being by mistake; they perplexed their little minds as to the form of indictment should such an event happen.  Should it be manslaughter or murder?  This knotty question was submitted with touching solemnity to the law officers of the Crown for decision, and it may be assumed that even their sense of humour must have been excited when they learned of the quandary of the Governor and the French Commissioner.  The shooting propensity set the ingenious Lowe a-thinking, and in order to satisfy it he evolved the idea of having rabbits let adrift, but, as usual, another of his little comforting considerations is abortive, and the plan has a tragic finish.  Shooting is off.  The Emperor’s hobby has changed to gardening.  The rabbits become an easy prey to the swarms of rats that prowl about Longwood, and soon disappear.

It is quite probable that Napoleon did have a fancy for shooting, but it is well known he was never at any time a sportsman in the sense of being a good shot—­indeed, everything points to his having no taste for what is ordinarily known as sport, and that he ever shot kids, goats, or bullocks is highly improbable.  That he occasionally went shooting and got good sport in killing the rats and other vermin which made Longwood an insufferable habitation to live in is quite true.  It is also quite true that Lowe became demented with fear in case the shooting should have sanguinary and far-reaching effects.  Hence the foregoing communication to the law officers.

There is little doubt as to the use that was made of the ludicrous inquiry by Lowe.  It must have been handed over to the army of loathsome libellers—­men and women who were willing to do the dirtiest of all work, that of writing and speaking lies (some abominable in their character) of a defenceless man, in order that their vindictiveness should be completely satisfied.  Vast sums were annually expended for no other purpose than to put their afflicted prisoner through the torture of a living purgatory.

Napoleon did not heed their silly stories of shooting exploits, though he knew the underlying purpose of them.  It was the darker, sordid wickedness that was daily practised on him that ate like a canker into mind and body until he was a shattered wreck.  It was the foul treatment of this great man that caused Dr. Barry O’Meara to revolt and openly proclaim that the captive of St. Helena was being put to death.  As an honourable man he declared he could behold it no longer without making a spirited protest.  He knew that this meant banishment, ostracism, and persecution by the Government.  He foresaw that powerful agencies would be at work against him, and that no expense would be spared in order that his statements should be refuted, but he hazarded everything and defied the world.  He came through the ordeal, as all impartial judges will admit, with cleaner hands and a cleaner tongue than those who challenged his accuracy.