ffice, seeking justice and fair dealing, and
getting speeches concerning liberty. None heeded me. Looking back on it
I can't rightly blame 'em. I'd no money, my clothes was filthy mucked;
I hadn't changed my linen in weeks, and I'd no proof of my claims except
the ship's papers, which, they said, I might have stolen. The thieves!
The door-keeper to the American Ambassador--for I never saw even the
Secretary--he swore I spoke French a sight too well for an American
citizen. Worse than that--I had spent my money, d'ye see, and I--I took
to fiddling in the streets for my keep; and--and, a ship's captain with
a fiddle under his arm--well, I don't blame 'em that they didn't believe
me.

'I come back to the barge one day--late in this month Brumaire it
was--fair beazled out. Old Maingon, the caretaker, he'd lit a fire in a
bucket and was grilling a herring.

'"Courage, mon ami," he says. "Dinner is served."

'"I can't eat," I says. "I can't do any more. It's stronger than I am."
'"Bah!" he says. "Nothing's stronger than a man. Me, for example! Less
than two years ago I was blown up in the Orient in Aboukir Bay, but
I descended again and hit the water like a fairy. Look at me now," he
says. He wasn't much to look at, for he'd only one leg and one eye, but
the cheerfullest soul that ever trod shoe-leather. "That's worse than a
hundred and eleven hogshead of 'baccy," he goes on. "You're young, too!
What wouldn't I give to be young in France at this hour! There's nothing
you couldn't do," he says. "The ball's at your feet--kick it!" he says.
He kicks the old fire-bucket with his peg-leg. "General Buonaparte, for
example!" he goes on. "That man's a babe compared to me, and see what
he's done already. He's conquered Egypt and Austria and Italy--oh! half
Europe!" he says, "and now he sails back to Paris, and he sails out
to St Cloud down the river here--don't stare at the river, you young
fool!---and all in front of these pig-jobbing lawyers and citizens he
makes himself Consul, which is as good as a King. He'll be King, too,
in the next three turns of the capstan--King of France, England, and the
world! Think o' that!" he shouts, "and eat your herring."

'I says something about Boney. If he hadn't been fighting England I
shouldn't have lost my 'baccy--should I?

'"Young fellow," says Maingon, "you don't understand."

'We heard cheering. A carriage passed over the bridge with two in it.
'"That's the man himself," says Maingon.