h revealed a small box of matches near the lamp on the shelf.
Then he closed the window in order to shut in the flame, and, lighting
the lamp, pursued his investigation.

He found in the kitchen a jar of honey that he had overlooked, and he
resolved to use a part of it for breakfast. Europeans did not seem able
to live without jam or honey in the mornings, and he would follow the
custom. Not much was left in the other rooms, besides some old articles
of clothing, including two or three blue blouses of the kind worn by
French peasants or workmen, but on one of the walls he saw an excellent
engraving of the young Napoleon, conqueror of Italy.

It showed him, horseback, on a high road looking down upon troops in
battle, Castiglione or Rivoli, perhaps, his face thin and gaunt, his
hair long and cut squarely across his forehead, the eyes deep, burning
and unfathomable. It was so thoroughly alive that he believed it must be
a reproduction of some great painting. He stood a long time, fascinated
by this picture of the young republican general who rose like a meteor
over Europe and who changed the world.

John, like nearly all young men, viewed the Napoleonic cycle with a
certain awe and wonder. A student, he had considered Napoleon the great
democratic champion and mainly in the right as far as Austerlitz. Then
swollen ambition had ruined everything and, in his opinion, another
swollen ambition, though for far less cause, was now bringing equal
disaster upon Europe. A belief in one's infallibility might come from
achievement or birth, but only the former could win any respect from
thinking men.

It seemed to John presently that the deep, inscrutable eyes were gazing
at him, and he felt a quivering at the roots of his hair. It was young
Bonaparte, the republican general, and not Napoleon, the emperor, who
was looking into his heart.

"Well," said John, in a sort of defiance, "if you had stuck to your
early principles we wouldn't have all this now. First Consul you might
have been, but you shouldn't have gone any further."

He turned away with a sigh of regret that so great a warrior and
statesman, in the end, should have misused his energies.

He returned to the room below, blew out the lamp and opened the window
again. The cool fresh air once more poured into the room, and he took
long deep breaths of it. It was still raining, though lightly, and the
pattering of the drops on the leaves made a pleasant sound. The thunde