nt Tabor.

It was midnight: all was still and silent in the camp. The soldiers
slept as men sleep before a battle, when the old grenadier who walked
his short post before General Bonaparte's tent heard a quick tread
approaching him. "Qui vive?" cried he; but there was no reply. "Qui
vive?" called the sentry once more; but as he did so he leaped backwards
and brought his musket to the charge, for just then something brushed
close by him and entered the tent.

For a moment or two he doubted what should be done. Should he turn out
the guard? It was only to be laughed at; that would never do. But what
if it really were somebody who had penetrated to the general's quarters?
As this thought struck him, he crept up close to the tent; and there,
true enough, he heard the voices of two persons speaking.

"Ah! thou here?" said Bonaparte. "I scarce expected to see thee so far
from France!"

"Alas!" said the other, with a deep sigh, "what land is now open to me,
or whither shall I fly to? I took refuge in Brussels; well, what should
I see one morning, but the tall shakos of your grenadiers coming up the
steep street. I fled to Holland; you were there the day after. 'Come,'
thought I, 'he's moving northwards; I'll try the other extreme.' So I
started for the Swiss. _Sacrebleu_! the roll of your confounded drums
resounded through every valley. I reached the banks of the Po; your
troops were there the same evening. I pushed for Rome; they were
preparing your quarters, which you occupied that night. Away, then, I
start once more; I cross mountains and rivers and seas, and gain the
desert at last. I thank my fortune that there are a thousand leagues
between us; and here you are now. For pity's sake, show me, on that map
of the world, one little spot you don't want to conquer, and let me live
there in peace, and be sure never to meet you more."

Bonaparte did not speak for some minutes, and it seemed as though he
were intently considering the request of "L'Homme Rouge."

"There," said he at length, "there! You see that island in the great
sea, with nothing near it; thou mayest go there."

"How is it called?" said "L'Homme Rouge."

"St. Helena," said the general. "It is not very large; but I promise
thee to be undisturbed there."

"You 'll never come there, then? Is that a pledge?"

"Never; I promise it. At least, if I do, thou shalt be the master, and I
the slave."

"Enough! I go now. Adieu!" said the little man. And the sam