The Man of Destiny

horse and his despatches⁠—most important despatches⁠—and let me go away with them. Triumphantly, seeing that he has reduced Napoleon to blank stupefaction. Was that nothing? Napoleon Enfeebled by astonishment. What did he do that for? Lieutenant As if the reason were obvious. To show his confidence in me. Napoleon’s jaw does not exactly drop; but its hinges become nerveless. The Lieutenant proceeds with honest indignation. And I was worthy of his confidence: I brought them all back honorably. But would you believe it?⁠—when I trusted him with my pistols, and my horse, and my despatches⁠— Napoleon Enraged. What the devil did you do that for? Lieutenant Why, to show my confidence in him, of course. And he betrayed it⁠—abused it⁠—never came back. The thief! the swindler! the heartless, treacherous little blackguard! You call that nothing, I suppose. But look here, General: again resorting to the table with his fist for greater emphasis You may put up with this outrage from the Austrians if you like; but speaking for myself personally, I tell you that if ever I catch⁠— Napoleon Turning on his heel in disgust and irritably resuming his march to and fro. Yes: you have said that more than once already. Lieutenant Excitedly. More than once! I’ll say it fifty times; and what’s more, I’ll do it. You’ll see, General. I’ll show my confidence in him, so I will. I’ll⁠— Napoleon Yes, yes, sir: no doubt you will. What kind of man was he? Lieutenant Well, I should think you ought to be able to tell from his conduct the sort of man he was. Napoleon Psh! What was he like? Lieutenant Like! He’s like⁠—well, you ought to have just seen the fellow: that will give you a notion of what he was like. He won’t be like it five minutes after I catch him; for I tell you that if ever⁠— Napoleon Shouting furiously for the innkeeper. Giuseppe! To the Lieutenant, out of all patience. Hold your tongue, sir, if you can. Lieutenant I warn you it’s no use to try to put the blame on me. Plaintively. How was I to know the sort of fellow he was? He takes a chair from between the sideboard and the outer door; places it near the table; and sits down. If you only knew how hungry and tired I am, you’d have more consideration. Giuseppe Returning. What is it, excellency? Napoleon Struggling with his temper. Take this⁠—this officer. Feed him; and put him to bed, if necessary. When he is in his right mind again, find out what has happened to him and bring me word. To the Lieutenant. Consider yourself under arrest, sir. Lieutenant With sulky stiffness. I was prepared for that. It takes a gentleman to understand a gentleman. He throws his sword on the table. Giuseppe takes it up and politely offers it to Napoleon, who throws it violently on the couch. Giuseppe With sympathetic concern. Have you been attacked by the Austrians, lieutenant? Dear, dear, dear! Lieutenant Contemptuously. Attacked! I could have broken his back between my finger and thumb. I wish I had, now. No: it was by appealing to the better side of my nature: that’s what I can’t get over. He said he’d never met a man he liked so much as me. He put his handkerchief round my neck because a gnat bit me, and my stock was chafing it. Look! He pulls a handkerchief from his stock. Giuseppe takes it and examines it. Giuseppe To Napoleon. A lady’s handkerchief, excellency. He smells it. Perfumed! Napoleon Eh? He takes it and looks at it attentively. Hm! He smells it. Ha! He walks thoughtfully across the room, looking at the handkerchief, which he finally sticks in the breast of his coat. Lieutenant Good enough for him, anyhow. I noticed that he had a woman’s hands when he touched my neck, with his coaxing, fawning ways, the mean, effeminate little hound. Lowering his voice with thrilling intensity. But mark my words, General. If ever⁠— The Lady’s Voice Outside, as before. Giuseppe! Lieutenant Petrified. What was that? Giuseppe Only a lady upstairs, lieutenant, calling me. Lieutenant Lady! Voice Giuseppe, Giuseppe: where are you? Lieutenant Murderously. Give me that sword. He strides to the couch; snatches the sword; and draws it. Giuseppe Rushing forward and seizing his right arm. What are you thinking of, lieutenant? It’s a lady: don’t you hear that it’s a woman’s voice? Lieutenant It’s his voice, I tell you. Let me go. He breaks away, and rushes to the inner door. It opens in his face; and the Strange Lady steps in. She is a very attractive lady, tall and extraordinarily graceful, with a delicately intelligent, apprehensive, questioning face⁠—perception in the brow, sensitiveness in the nostrils, character in the chin: all keen, refined, and original. She is very feminine, but by no means weak: the lithe, tender figure is hung on a strong frame: the hands and feet, neck and shoulders, are no fragile ornaments, but of full size in proportion to her stature, which considerably exceeds that of Napoleon and the innkeeper, and leaves her at no disadvantage with the lieutenant. Only her elegance and radiant charm keep the secret of her size and strength. She is not, judging by her dress, an admirer of the latest fashions of the Directory; or perhaps she uses up her old dresses for travelling. At all events she wears no jacket with extravagant lapels, no Greco-Tallien sham chiton, nothing, indeed, that the Princesse de Lamballe might not have worn. Her dress of flowered silk is long waisted, with a Watteau pleat behind, but with the paniers reduced to mere rudiments, as she is too tall for them. It is cut low in the neck, where it is eked out by a creamy fichu. She is fair, with golden brown hair and grey eyes. She enters with