to him, sends you the permits for the United States, His
Majesty will go there with pleasure; but in default of them, he
will go voluntarily to England as a private individual to enjoy
the protection of the laws of your country."

Now, either Las Cases misinterpreted Maitland's words and acts, or
Napoleon hoped to impose on the captain by the statements just quoted.
Maitland had not sent to Hotham for permits; he held out no hopes of
Napoleon's going to America; he only promised to take him to England
_to be at the disposal of the Prince Regent_. Napoleon, taking no
notice of the last stipulation, now promised to go to England, not as
Emperor, but as a private individual. He took this step soon after
dawn on the 15th, when any lingering hopes of his escape were ended by
the sight of Admiral Hotham's ship, "Superb," in the offing. On
leaving the French brig, "Epervier," he was greeted with the last
cheers of _Vive l'Empereur_, cheers that died away almost in a wail as
his boat drew near to the "Bellerophon." There he was greeted
respectfully, but without a salute. He wore the green uniform, with
gold and scarlet facings, of a colonel of the Chasseurs a Cheval of
the Guard, with white waistcoat and military boots; and Maitland
thought him "a remarkably strong, well-built man." Keeping up a
cheerful demeanour, he asked a number of questions about the ship, and
requested to be shown round even thus early, while the men were
washing the decks. He inquired whether the "Bellerophon" would have
worsted the two French frigates and acquiesced in Maitland's
affirmative reply. He expressed admiration of all that he saw,
including the portrait of Maitland's wife hanging in the cabin; and
the captain felt the full force of that seductive gift of pleasing,
which was not the least important of the great man's powers.

He was accompanied by General and Mme. Bertrand, the former a tall,
slim, good-looking man, of refined manners and domestic habits, though
of a sensitive and hasty temper; his wife, a lady of slight figure,
but stately carriage, the daughter of a Irishman named Dillon, who
lost his life in the Revolution. Her vivacious manners bespoke a warm
impulsive nature, that had revelled in the splendour of her high
ceremonial station and now seemed strained beyond endurance by the
trials threatening her and her three children. The Bertrands had been
with Napoleon at Elba, and enjoyed his complete confidence. Younger
t