d Napoleon, as his
superior officer, would have been obliged to punish him. But when he
heard that Bouquet had escaped from prison, he really felt relieved.

"Bouquet was my old schoolfellow at Brienne," he said. "I am glad I did
not have to punish him."

Whenever he had the chance, after he had risen to honor and power, he
would do his old schoolmates and teachers at Brienne school a service.
Bourrienne and Lauriston were both advanced and honored. To one teacher
he gave the post of palace librarian; another was appointed the head of
the School of Fine Arts; Father Patrault, who had been his friend and
had taught him mathematics, was made one of his secretaries; other
teachers he helped with pensions or positions; and even the porter of
the school was made porter of one of the palaces when Napoleon became an
emperor.

At last, as I have told you, when the opportunity came, Napoleon said
good-by to Brienne school. He left before his time was up, in order to
give his younger brother, Lucien, the chance for a scholarship in
the school; he put aside with regret, but without complaining, the
wished-for assignment to the naval service. He decided to become an
artillery officer; and on October 17, in the year 1784, he started for
Paris to enter upon his "king's scholarship" in the military school. He
had been a schoolboy at Brienne five years and a half. He was now a boy
of fifteen.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

NAPOLEON GOES TO PARIS.

Some boys at fifteen are older than other boys at fifteen. Napoleon, as
I have told you, was always an "old boy." So when, on that October day
in 1784, he arrived at the capital to enter upon the king's scholarship
which he had received, he was no longer a child, even though under-sized
and somewhat "spindling."

Here, however, as at Autun and Brienne, his appearance was against him,
and created an unfavorable impression.

As he got out of the Brienne coach, he ran almost into the arms of one
of the boys he had known at Corsica--young Demetrius Compeno.

"What, Demetrius! you here?" he cried, a smile of pleasure at sight of a
familiar face lighting up his sallow features.

"And why not, young Bonaparte," Demetrius laughed back in reply. "You
did not suppose I was going to let you fall right into the lion's mouth,
undefended. Why, you are so fresh and green looking, the beast would
take you for Corsican grass, and eat you at once."

Although Napoleon was inclined to resent this pleasa