Of those who had listened to the officer young Elizabeth, or Betsy as she was commonly called, was the most disturbed. She shivered and turned pale, and her mother, noticing her agitation, soon sent her to bed. There she silently wept herself to sleep and her dreams were filled with visions of that dreadful ogre, Bonaparte. It was not a very long time since she had really believed Napoleon to be a huge monster, a kind of Polyphemus with one large, flaming eye in the middle of his forehead and with long teeth protruding from his mouth, with which he devoured bad little girls.
Although Betsy had outgrown this first idea of Napoleon, implanted in her young brain by careless servants, she was still afraid of the Conqueror. It is true that she realized he was not an ogre, but a human being; that is to say, the very worst human being that had ever lived. She knew this must be so, for she had heard sensible grown-up persons speak of him in this way, even her own father and mother. What wonder, then, that her dreams should be disturbed by thoughts of the misery that must come to St. Helena with such a man as Napoleon living on the island?
The next morning after the visit of the officer from the Icarus, the little girl rose early. She was far from cheerful as she looked about her on the lovely garden and grove. A wave of hot anger passed over her. Why should that terrible man be permitted to land and destroy all this beauty, as he would, of course, on the first opportunity?
From the garden she looked toward the rugged mountain, known as Peak's Hill, which shut off the valley from the south. Her father had spoken of the island as a natural fortress. Except for the mountains the Government would never have thought of sending the dreadful Napoleon to St. Helena. So she hated the mountains and cliffs.
Perhaps, however, even at that moment when she dreaded the coming of the exiled Emperor, Betsy may have recalled her own first impressions of St. Helena and cast a half-pitying thought toward the great man who now saw in its rocky heights only his prison wall.
One day Betsy's mother had reminded the young girl of the bitter tears she shed when she had first seen the island.
"You were a silly girl to cry when you first came in sight of land," said her mother, recalling the circumstance.
"Yes, but some had told me that the island was really the head of a great negro that was only waiting for the breakfast bell; then it would devour me first, and later the rest of the passengers and crew."
"Well, I am glad you told me your fears."
"So am I, for you showed me that these things could not be true."