“Everything becomes known in the end,” replied the Princess, gayly. “Napoleon did nothing at all. He did not even kick Volney, and his head was that of an idiot.”
General Lariviere felt that he should say something. He hurled this phrase:
“Napoleon—his campaign of 1813 is much discussed.”
The General wished to please Garain, and he had no other idea. However, he succeeded, after an effort, in formulating a judgment:
“Napoleon committed faults; in his situation he should not have committed any.” And he stopped abruptly, very red.
Madame Martin asked:
“And you, Monsieur Vence, what do you think of Napoleon?”
“Madame, I have not much love for sword-bearers, and conquerors seem to me to be dangerous fools. But in spite of everything, that figure of the Emperor interests me as it interests the public. I find character and life in it. There is no poem or novel that is worth the Memoirs of Saint Helena, although it is written in ridiculous fashion. What I think of Napoleon, if you wish to know, is that, made for glory, he had the brilliant simplicity of the hero of an epic poem. A hero must be human. Napoleon was human.”
“Oh, oh!” every one exclaimed.
But Paul Vence continued: