Betsy, realizing the Emperor's capacity for finding entertainment in hearing about the small things that made up the life of St. Helena, always gratified him by describing the little festivities in which she took part, or even the larger affairs of which she knew only by what others told her. Like all places garrisoned by British regiments, there was always much going on, as the phrase is, on the island, and the gossip of the place, usually harmless enough in itself, never failed to entertain him.
Sometimes he tried to draw from the little girl information that for one reason or another she did not care to give him—sometimes merely to tease him, sometimes because she feared that what she said might disturb him.
"So you have been calling on Lady Lowe at Plantation House," he said, after one of her visits to the wife of the Governor. "Tell me, does she ask about your visits to Longwood?"
"There, that is just the kind of thing she asks me. I am sure to be questioned what we say and do in your presence;" and beyond this Betsy would give Napoleon little satisfaction.
"Who is the most beautiful woman on the island?" he asked on another occasion.
"Madame Bertrand," replied Betsy, never at a loss for an answer, "is more beautiful than any one I have ever seen. Every one else seems insignificant beside her. Why, when my father saw her on the Northumberland he was very much struck by her. Her features may not be strictly beautiful, but her expression is intellectual. Besides, her bearing is so queenlike and dignified!"
"But don't you think Madame Montholon pretty?"
"No," responded Betsy unhesitatingly, in spite of the fact that she had much regard for Madame Montholon.
"Marchand," cried Napoleon, apparently changing the subject, "bring me my snuffbox,—you know which."
The faithful Marchand obeyed, and when he returned Napoleon took the snuffbox from his hands to show the girls—for Jane was with Betsy—a miniature on the lid.