tle, thoughtful, and pensive. The parting was very affecting--Louis
Napoleon throwing his arms around his elder brother, and weeping as
though his heart would break. The thoughtful child, thus companionless,
now turned to his mother with the full flow of his affectionate nature.
A French writer, speaking of these scenes, says:

"The soul of Hortense had been already steeped in misfortune, but her
power of endurance seemed at length exhausted. When she had embraced her
son for the last time, and beheld the carriage depart which bore him
away, a deep despondency overwhelmed her spirits. Her very existence
became a dream; and it seemed a matter of indifference to her whether
her lot was to enjoy or to suffer, to be persecuted, respected, or
forgotten."

And now came another blow upon the bewildered brain and throbbing heart
of Hortense. The Allies did not deem it safe to allow Hortense and her
child to reside so near the frontiers of France. They knew that the
French people detested the Bourbons. They knew that all France, upon the
first favorable opportunity, would rise in the attempt to re-establish
the Empire. The Sardinian government was accordingly ordered to expel
Hortense from Savoy. Where should she go? It seemed as though all Europe
would refuse a home to this bereaved, heart-broken lady and her child.
She remembered her cousin, Stephanie Beauharnais, her schoolmate, whom
her mother and Napoleon had so kindly sheltered and provided for in the
days when the Royalists were in exile. Stephanie was the lady to whom
her father had been so tenderly attached. She was now in prosperity and
power, the wife of the Grand Duke of Baden. Hortense decided to seek a
residence at Constance, in the territory of Baden, persuaded that the
duke and duchess would not drive her, homeless and friendless, from
their soil, out again into the stormy world.

To reach Baden it was necessary to pass through Switzerland. The Swiss
government, awed by France, at first refused to give her permission to
traverse their territory. But the Duke of Richelieu intervened in her
favor, and, by remonstrating against such cruelty, obtained the
necessary passport. It was now the month of November. Cold storms swept
the snow-clad hills and the valleys. Hortense departed from Aix, taking
with her her son Louis Napoleon, his private tutor, the Abbe Bertrand,
her reader, Mademoiselle Cochelet, and an attendant. She wished to spend
the first night at her own