of the
throne, and his spirit seemed to swell with the conscious force of
coming greatness.

And Lisette, all this time? Alas, I had totally forgotten her! As the
enthusiasm around me began to subside, I had time to recover myself,
and look about me. There was much beauty and splendour to admire. Madame
Junot was there, and Mademoiselle de Bessieres, with a crowd of others
less known, but scarcely less lovely. Not one, however, could I see that
corresponded with my mind-drawn portrait of the peasant beauty; and I
scanned each face closely and critically. There was female loveliness
of every type, from the dark-eyed beauty of Spanish race, to the almost
divine regularity of a Raphaelite picture. There was the brilliant
aspect of fashion, too; but nowhere could I see what I sought for;
nowhere detect that image which imagination had stamped as that of the
beauty of 'La Marche.' If disappointed in my great object, I left the
theatre with my mind full of all I had witnessed. The dreadful event of
Ettenheim had terribly shaken Bonaparte in my esteem; yet how resist the
contagious devotion of a whole nation--how remain cold in the midst
of the burning zeal of all France? These thoughts brought me to the
consideration of myself. Was I, or was I not, any longer a soldier of
his army? or was I disqualified for joining in that burst of national
enthusiasm which proclaimed that all France was ready to march under
his banner? To-morrow I 'll wait upon the Minister of War, thought I, or
I'll seek out the commanding officer of some regiment that I know, or at
least a comrade; and so I went on, endeavouring to frame a plan for
my guidance, as I strolled along the streets, which were now almost
deserted. The shops were all closed; of the hotels, such as were yet
open were far too costly for means like mine; and so, as the night was
calm and balmy with the fresh air of spring, I resolved to pass it
out of doors. I loitered then along the Champs-Elysees; and at length
stretching myself on the grass beneath the trees, lay down to sleep. 'An
odd bedroom enough,' thought I, 'for one who has passed the evening at
the opera, and who has feasted his ears at the expense of his stomach.'
I remembered, too, another night when the sky had been my canopy in
Paris, when I slept beneath the shadow of the guillotine and the Place
de Greve. 'Well,' thought I, 'times are at least changed for the better
since that day; and my own fortunes are certainly