e downfall of Napoleon--or his triumph. If Napoleon goes down, I
shall send a letter to myself--a blank sheet of paper in an envelope.
When you get this, buy English bonds--buy quickly, but use a dozen
different men, so as not to stampede the market. We have a million
pounds in British gold--use it all, and buy, if necessary, up to five
points of par." He rode away on horseback. He left a man with a strong
and fast horse every forty miles from London to Dover, then from Calais
to Brussels. A swift-sailing yacht waited at Calais, with a reward of
one hundred guineas for the captain if he crossed the Channel inside of
four hours, after getting a special letter addressed to Nathan
Rothschild. There was a rich reward also for each rider if he rode his
forty miles in less than four hours. Rothschild watched away the night
of the Seventeenth of June, circling uneasily the outposts of Brussels.

He saw the Battle of Waterloo--or such of that mad confusion as was
visible. He saw the French ride headlong into that open ditch; and he
saw the last stand of the Old Guard.

Whether Napoleon was beaten or not no one could say. "He'll be back
tomorrow with reinforcements," many said. Nathan Rothschild thought
otherwise.

At nightfall he drew the girth of his saddle two holes tighter, threw
away his pistols, coat and hat, and rode away, on a gentle patter. After
two miles this was increased to a stiff gallop. He knew his horse--he
was turning off each mile in just five minutes. He rode sixty miles in
five hours, using up three horses. The messenger to whom he tossed his
saddlebags asked no questions, but leaping astride his horse, dived into
the darkness and was gone. Rothschild's men were twenty-four hours ahead
of the regular post.

When the news reached London that Wellington had won, the Banking House
of Rothschild had no cash, but its safe was stuffed with English
Securities.

Nathan Rothschild made his way leisurely back to London. On arriving
there he found himself richer, by more than five hundred thousand
pounds, than he was when he rode away.

* * * * *

In Eighteen Hundred Twenty-two, the Emperor of Austria conferred the
title of Baron on the sons of Mayer Anselm Rothschild.

It was the first and only time in history where five brothers were so
honored at one time.

Certain sarcastic persons have pointed out the fact that this wholesale
decoration was done immediately after the Roths