In suggesting that Napoleon might have been in London incognito, Jane was only repeating what then had wide currency—that Napoleon in the height of his power had slipped away from Paris, letting no one know that he was to cross the Channel, to spend a few days in London, studying the English and their ways.
To the inquisitive Jane, however, Napoleon gave no information as to the truth of this belief.
"I was much entertained," he said, "by one of my buffos, who introduced London street cries into a comedy that he got up in Paris."
This mention of the theatre led Napoleon to speak of Talma. "He was the truest actor to nature that ever trod the boards," he said.
"Talma?" repeated Betsy, catching the actor's name. "Oh, I remember; they used to say that you took lessons from him how to sit on the throne."
"I have often heard that myself," responded Napoleon, "and I even mentioned it once to Talma himself as a sign that I was considered to hold myself well on it."
Napoleon often displayed his powers of mimicry, to the great entertainment of the children.
A large ball, given by Sir George Bingham in return for the civilities that had been shown the Fifty-third Regiment, took place not far from Longwood, and practically every one on the island was invited.
"It was the very prettiest affair I ever saw," said Betsy, "and you ought to have seen it."
Glancing at Napoleon, she thought she caught a certain meaning in the smile with which he greeted her remark. "I really believe you were there," she exclaimed. "Some one told us you were going to take a peep at us incognito, but I did not see you."