for young
Louis de Montrevel (we shall see later how the name of Louis was changed
to Roland) to the Ecole Militaire in Paris.

It was there that Bonaparte knew the child, when, on M. de Keralio's
report, he was judged worthy of promotion from the Ecole de Brienne to
the Ecole Militaire. Louis was the youngest pupil. Though he was only
thirteen, he had already made himself remarked for that ungovernable and
quarrelsome nature of which we have seen him seventeen years later give
an example at the table d'hote at Avignon.

Bonaparte, a child himself, had the good side of this character; that
is to say, without being quarrelsome, he was firm, obstinate, and
unconquerable. He recognized in the child some of his own qualities, and
this similarity of sentiments led him to pardon the boy's defects,
and attached him to him. On the other hand the child, conscious of a
supporter in the Corsican, relied upon him.

One day the child went to find his great friend, as he called Napoleon,
when the latter was absorbed in the solution of a mathematical problem.
He knew the importance the future artillery officer attached to this
science, which so far had won him his greatest, or rather his only
successes.

He stood beside him without speaking or moving. The young mathematician
felt the child's presence, and plunged deeper and deeper into his
mathematical calculations, whence he emerged victorious ten minutes
later. Then he turned to his young comrade with that inward satisfaction
of a man who issues victorious from any struggle, be it with science or
things material.

The child stood erect, pale, his teeth clinched, his arms rigid and his
fists closed.

"Oh! oh!" said young Bonaparte, "what is the matter now?"

"Valence, the governor's nephew, struck me."

"Ah!" said Bonaparte, laughing, "and you have come to me to strike him
back?"

The child shook his head.

"No," said he, "I have come to you because I want to fight him--"

"Fight Valence?"

"Yes."

"But Valence will beat you, child; he is four times as strong as you."

"Therefore I don't want to fight him as children do, but like men
fight."

"Pooh!"

"Does that surprise you?" asked the child.

"No," said Bonaparte; "what do you want to fight with?"

"With swords."

"But only the sergeants have swords, and they won't lend you one."

"Then we will do without swords."

"But what will you fight with?"

The child pointed to the compass with which the young