resumed its pride of place.  It was spring, and true to its season the violet had reappeared!  The joy of the soldiers and the lower orders was almost frantic, but even among the industrious poor there were not wanting many who regretted this precipitate return to the old order of things—­to conscription, war, and bloodshed, while in the superior classes of society there was a pretty general consternation.  The vain, volatile soldiery, however, thought of nothing but their Emperor, saw nothing before them but the restoration of all their laurels, the humiliation of England, and the utter defeat of the Russians, Prussians, and Austrians.

On the night between the 19th and 20th of March Napoleon reached Fontainebleau, and again paused, as had formerly been his custom, with short, quick steps through the antiquated but splendid galleries of that old palace.  What must have been his feelings on revisiting the chamber in which, the year before, it is said he had attempted suicide!

Louis XVIII., left the Palace of the Tuileries at nearly the same hour that Bonaparte entered that of Fontainebleau.

The most forlorn hope of the Bourbons was now in a considerable army posted between Fontainebleau and Paris.  Meanwhile the two armies approached each other at Melun; that of the King was commanded by Marshal Macdonald.  On the 20th his troops were drawn up in three lines to receive the invaders, who were said to be advancing from Fontainebleau.  There was a long pause of suspense, of a nature which seldom fails to render men more accessible to strong and sudden emotions.  The glades of the forest, and the acclivity which leads to it, were in full view of the Royal army, but presented the appearance of a deep solitude.  All was silence, except when the regimental bands of music, at the command of the officers, who remained generally faithful, played the airs of “Vive Henri Quatre,” “O Richard,” “La Belle Gabrielle,” and other tunes connected with the cause and family of the Bourbons.  The sounds excited no corresponding sentiments among the soldiers.

At length, about noon, a galloping of horse was heard.  An open carriage appeared, surrounded by a few hussars, and drawn by four horses.  It came on at full speed, and Napoleon, jumping from the vehicle, was in the midst of the ranks which had been formed to oppose him.  His escort threw themselves from their horses, mingled with their ancient comrades, and the effect of their exhortations was instantaneous on men whose minds were already half made up to the purpose which they now accomplished.  There was a general shout of “Vive Napoleon!” The last army of the Bourbons passed from their side, and no further obstruction existed betwixt Napoleon and the capital, which he was once more—­but for a brief space—­to inhabit as a sovereign.

Louis, accompanied only by a few household troops, had scarcely turned his back on the capital of his ancestors when Lavalette hastened from a place of concealment and seized on the Post-office in the name of Napoleon.  By this measure all the King’s proclamations’ were intercepted, and the restoration of the Emperor was announced to all the departments.  General Excelmans, who had just renewed his oath to Louis, pulled down with his own hands the white flag that was floating over the Tuileries, and hoisted the three-coloured banner.