war-stained banner, and, wafted on his way by the sobs of these
unconquered heroes, set forth for the Mediterranean. In the central
districts, and as far as Lyons, he was often greeted by the well-known
shouts, but, further south, the temper of the people changed.

At Orange they cursed him to his face, and hurled stones at the
windows of the carriage; Napoleon, protected by Bertrand, sat huddled
up in the corner, "apparently very much frightened." After forcing a
way through the rabble, the Emperor, when at a safe distance, donned a
plain great coat, a Russian cloak, and a plain round hat with a white
cockade: in this or similar disguises he sought to escape notice at
every village or town, evincing, says the British Commissioner,
Colonel Campbell, "much anxiety to save his life."

By a detour he skirted the town of Avignon, where the mob thirsted for
his blood; and by another device he disappointed the people of Orgon,
who had prepared an effigy of him in uniform, smeared with blood, and
placarded with the words: "Voila donc l'odieux tyran! Tot ou tard le
crime est puni."[456] In this humiliating way he hurried on towards
the coast, where a British frigate, the "Undaunted," was waiting for
him. There some suspicious delays ensued, which aroused the fears of
the allied commissioners, especially as bands of French soldiers began
to draw near after the break-up of Eugene's army.[457]

At last, on the 28th, accompanied by Counts Bertrand and Drouot, he
set sail from Frejus. It was less than fifteen years since he had
landed there crowned with the halo of his oriental adventures.

* * * * *

CHAPTER XXXVIII

ELBA AND PARIS

If it be an advantage to pause in the midst of the rush of life and
take one's bearings afresh, then Napoleon was fortunate in being
drifted to the quiet eddy of Elba. He there had leisure to review his
career, to note where he had served his generation and succeeded,
where also he had dashed himself fruitlessly against the fundamental
instincts of mankind. Undoubtedly he did essay this mental
stock-taking. He remarked to the conscientious Drouot that he was
wrong in not making peace at the Congress of Prague; that trust in his
own genius and in his soldiery led him astray; "but those who blame me
have never drunk of Fortune's intoxicating cup." When a turn of her
wheel brought him uppermost again, he confessed that at Elba he had
heard, as in a tomb, the v