was hardly sixteen. She has been sitting in her boudoir while her son
has been baking in Egypt and Syria, so that they have pretty well
bridged over the gap between them. Do you see the tall, handsome,
clean-shaven man who has just kissed Josephine's hand. That is Talma
the famous actor. He once helped Napoleon at a critical moment of his
career, and the Emperor has never forgotten the debt which the Consul
contracted. That is really the secret of Talleyrand's power. He lent
Napoleon a hundred thousand francs before he set out for Egypt, and now,
however much he distrusts him, the Emperor cannot forget that old
kindness. I have never known him to abandon a friend or to forgive an
enemy. If you have once served him well you may do what you like
afterwards. There is one of his coachmen who is drunk from morning to
night. But he gained the cross at Marengo, and so he is safe.'

De Caulaincourt had moved on to speak with some lady, and I was again
left to my own thoughts, which turned upon this extraordinary man, who
presented himself at one moment as a hero and at another as a spoiled
child, with his nobler and his worse side alternating so rapidly that I
had no sooner made up my mind about him than some new revelation would
destroy my views and drive me to some fresh conclusion. That he was
necessary to France was evident, and that in serving him one was serving
one's country. But was it an honour or a penance to serve him? Was he
worthy merely of obedience, or might love and esteem be added to it?
These were the questions which we found it difficult to answer--and some
of us will never have answered them up to the end of time.

The company had now lost all appearance of formality, and even the
soldiers seemed to be at their ease. Many had gone into the side rooms,
where they had formed tables for whist and for vingt-et-un. For my own
part I was quite entertained by watching the people, the beautiful
women, the handsome men, the bearers of names which had been heard of in
no previous generation, but which now rung round the world. Immediately
in front of me were Ney, Lannes, and Murat chatting together and
laughing with the freedom of the camp. Of the three, two were destined
to be executed in cold blood, and the third to die upon the
battle-field, but no coming shadow ever cast a gloom upon their cheery,
full-blooded lives.

A small, silent, middle-aged man, who looked unhappy and ill at ease,
had bee