r. Mars Plaisir
alone was allowed to accompany him. Two hurried whispers alone were
conveyed to his ear. Placide assured him (yet how could it be?) that
Monsieur Pascal was in France and would exert himself. And Margot told
him, amidst her sobs, that she had done the one only thing she could--
she had prayed for Bonaparte, as she promised, that night of prophetic
woe at Pongaudin.

Nothing did he see of Paris but some of the dimly-lighted streets, as he
was conveyed, at night, to the prison of the Temple. During the weeks
that he was a prisoner there, he looked in vain for a summons to the
presence of the First Consul, or for the First Consul's appearance in
his apartment. One of Bonaparte's aides, Caffarelli, came indeed, and
brought messages: but these messages were only insulting inquiries about
the treasures--the treasures buried in the mornes;--for ever these
treasures! This recurring message, with its answer, was all the
communication he had with Bonaparte; and the hum and murmur from the
streets were all that he knew of Paris. When Bonaparte, nettled with
the reply--"The treasures I have lost are far other than those you
seek,"--was convinced that no better answer would be obtained, he gave
the order which had been impending during those weeks of confinement in
the Temple.

When Bonaparte found his first leisure, after the fetes and bustle
occasioned in August by his being made First Consul for life, he issued
his commands regarding the disposal of his West Indian prisoner: and
presently Toussaint was traversing France, with Mars Plaisir for his
companion in captivity--with an officer, as a guard, inside the closed
carriage; another guard on the box; and one, if not two, mounted in
their rear.

The journey was conducted under circumstances of great mystery. The
blinds of the carriage were never let down; provisions were served out
while the party was in full career; and the few baitings that were made
were contrived to take place, either during the night, or in
unfrequented places. It was clear that the complexion of the strangers
was not to be seen by the inhabitants. All that Toussaint could learn
was that they were travelling south-east.

"Have you mountains in your island?" asked the officer, letting down the
blind just so much, when the carriage turned a corner of the road, as to
permit to himself a glimpse of the scenery. "We are entering the Jura.
Have you mountains in your island?"

Tou