lacas, who was himself much surprised at Macdonald's letter,
communicated it to the King of Naples, whose answer deserves to be
recorded. It was as follows:--"If I had not imposed a law upon myself to
acknowledge none of the French endowments, the conduct of Marshal
Macdonald would have induced me to make an exception in his favour." It
is gratifying to see princes such scrupulous observers of the laws they
make for themselves!

About the end of August 1815, as I was walking on the Boulevard des
Capucines, I had the pleasure of meeting Rapp, whom I had not seen for a
long time. He had just come out of the house of Lagrenee, the artist,
who was painting his portrait. I was on foot, and Rapp's carriage was
waiting, so we both stepped into it, and set off to take a drive in the
Bois de Boulogne. We had a great deal to say to each other, for we had
not met since the great events of the two Restorations. The reason of
this was, that in 1814 I passed a part of the year at Sens, and since the
occurrences of March 1815 Rapp himself had been absent from Paris. I
found him perfectly resigned to his change of condition, though indulging
in a few oaths against the foreigners. Rapp was not one of those,
generals who betrayed the King on the 20th of March. He told me that he
remained at the head of the division which he commanded at Ecouen, under
the orders of the Due de Berry, and that he did not resign it to the War
Minister until after the King's departure. "How did Napoleon receive
you?" I inquired. "I waited till he sent for me. You know what sort of
fellow I am: I know nothing about politics; not I. I had sworn fidelity
to the King. I know my duty, and I would have fought against the
Emperor."--"Indeed!"--"Yes, certainly I would, and I told him so
myself."--"How! did you venture so far?"--"To be sure. I told him that
my resolution was definite. 'Pshaw! . . . replied he angrily.
'I knew well that you were opposed to me. If we had come to an action I
should have sought you out on the field of battle. I would have shown
you the Medusa's head. Would you have dared to fire on me?'--'Without
doubt,' I replied. `Ah! parbleu this is too much,' he said. 'But your
troops would not have obeyed you. They had preserved all their affection
for me.'--'What could I do?' resumed I. 'You abdicated, you left France,
you recommended us to serve the King--and then you return! Besides; I
tell you frankly, I do not augur well of what will happen. We s