Napoleon quickly fitted himself into his place in his new surroundings.

So adaptable was he that the children soon ceased to regard him as a stranger, nor were they inclined to criticise his habits, although in most respects his ways were quite unlike those of the Balcombe family.

For example, he did not breakfast as they did. After rising at eight o'clock, he satisfied himself with a cup of coffee and had his first hearty meal, breakfast or luncheon as they variously called it, at one.

It was nine o'clock in the evening before he dined, and eleven when he withdrew to his own room.

The Pavilion, the building that chiefly formed his new abode, was a short distance from the main building of The Briars. It had one good room on the ground floor, and two garrets. Napoleon selected this Pavilion, not because it was really more convenient for him, but because by occupying it he would less disturb the Balcombe family than by taking quarters in the main house.

Las Cases and his son were in one of the garrets, and Napoleon's chief _valet de chambre_ and others of his household were in the second. The rooms were so crowded that some of the party had to sleep on the floor of the little hall. The Pavilion had been built by Betsy's father as a ballroom, and had a certain stateliness. The large room opened on a lawn, neatly fenced around, and in the centre of the lawn was a marquee, connected with the house by a covered way. The marquee had two compartments. The inner one was Napoleon's bedroom, and in the other General Gorgaud slept. There was little but the beds in the marquee.

General Gorgaud slept on a small tent bed with green silk hangings, which Napoleon had had with him in all his campaigns.

Between the two divisions of the marquee some of the servants of Napoleon had carved a huge crown in the green turf, on which the Emperor was obliged to step as he pa.s.sed through.

At first Count Bertrand and Count Montholon with their families were lodged at Mr. Porteous's house in the town, where a suitable table was prepared for them in the French style. They could go to The Briars whenever they wished, accompanied by a British officer or Dr. O'Meara, who was appointed physician to Napoleon; or, followed by a soldier, they were permitted to visit any part of the island except the forts and batteries.

A captain of artillery resided at The Briars, and at first a sergeant and soldiers were also stationed there. But the presence of the soldiers was evidently needless, as well as so disagreeable to the family that, on hearing various remonstrances, Sir George c.o.c.kburn ordered them away.

But for the presence of the artillery officer, Napoleon during his stay at The Briars might almost have forgotten that he was a prisoner. He and his suite appreciated the unfailing kindness of Mr. Balcombe and his family, who from the first left nothing undone for the comfort of the exiles. During the early days of his stay the dinner for the French people at The Briars was sent out from town, but soon Mr. Balcombe fitted up a little kitchen, connected with the Pavilion, where Napoleon's accomplished cook had every opportunity to display his skill.

Very often after dinner Napoleon obligingly went outside for a walk, that his attendants might finish their dinner in the room that he had left.

Soon after his arrival Napoleon was visited by Colonel Wilks, Governor of St. Helena, Mrs. Wilks, and other officials of the island, and some of the leading citizens and their families. He had not yet begun to seclude himself, and he and his companions seemed to be trying to make the best of their situation. Then and later evening parties were occasionally given by the French without much appearance of restraint.

Napoleon accepted no invitations except those given by his friends at The Briars, and in one or two unusual cases, but the others went sometimes to the well-attended b.a.l.l.s given by Sir George c.o.c.kburn.

Madames Bertrand and Montholon and the rest of Napoleon's suite, for whom there was not room at The Briars, often came to see him there, and remained during the day. To them he was still _le grand empereur_. His every look was watched, every wish was antic.i.p.ated, and they showed him great reverence. Some have thought that in dealing with them he insisted too much on the etiquette of a court, but certainly none of the suite complained of formality.

Napoleon was always polite to guests at The Briars, and once went to a large party given by Mr. Balcombe, pleasing every one by his urbanity.

When guests were introduced he always asked their profession, and then turned the conversation in that direction. People were always surprised at the extent of his information. Officers and others on the way from China sought introductions and were seldom refused.

Indeed in those first months his att.i.tude to people was very different from what it was later. Not infrequently he himself invited people to dine with him.

Most of Napoleon's suite shared with him a feeling of friendliness for the Balcombe family. Las Cases, however, was always ready to criticise Miss Betsy, whose hoydenish ways he could never understand. One evening, when she was turning over the leaves of Estille's "Floriant," seeing that Gaston de Foix was called General, she asked Napoleon whether he was satisfied with him and whether he had escaped or was still living.

This question shocked Las Cases, for it seemed to him extraordinary that a girl should imagine that the famous Gaston de Foix had been a general under Napoleon.

But this was not a very strange mistake for a little English girl to make. It is to be feared that Las Cases always took a certain pleasure in correcting the faults of the young Balcombes, or in reporting them to their parents.

From the first Napoleon claimed more of the society of Betsy than of the other members of the family, and so agreeable were his manners toward her that the little girl soon began to regard him as a companion of her own, with whom she could be perfectly at ease, rather than as one much older.

"His spirits were very good, and he was at times almost boyish in his love of mirth and glee, not unmixed sometimes with a tinge of malice,"

wrote Betsy years later.

"Jane," said Betsy to her sister, not long after Napoleon's arrival, "the Emperor has invited us to dine with him. What fun it will be!"

"I don't know. I am afraid it will be terribly solemn."

"Oh, no; I am not afraid of that. The Emperor isn't solemn. You ought to get acquainted with him, and you wouldn't think so."

Jane shook her head dubiously.

"I am half afraid of him. I don't see how you can dare to trifle so with him. What were you laughing at yesterday when Lucy was here? I thought the Emperor looked rather silly."

"Well, perhaps he did, if you put it that way," responded the blunt Betsy. "Only Lucy was sillier. I thought she would drag me to the ground when I told her the Emperor was coming across the lawn."

"Then why did you run and bring him up to her? I saw you do it."

"I needn't have done that. I did more harm than good. I told her he wasn't the cruel creature she thought him. But I oughtn't to have told the Emperor she was afraid of him. At least, I wouldn't have done so had I known how he would act, for he brushed up his hair so it stood out like a savage's, and when he came up to Lucy he gave a queer growl so that she screamed until mamma thought she might have hysterics and hurried her out into the house."

"It was ridiculous for a man to act like a child," responded the sedate Jane, who had not acquired Betsy's admiration for Napoleon.

"It was more ridiculous for her to scream. Napoleon laughed so at her that I had to take her part. 'I thought you a kind of an ogre, too,' I said, 'before I knew you.' 'Perhaps you think I couldn't frighten you now,' he answered, 'but see;' and then he brushed his hair up higher and made faces, and he looked so queer that I could only laugh at him. 'So I can't frighten you!' he said, and then he howled and howled, and at last seemed disappointed that I wasn't alarmed. 'It's a Cossack howl,' he explained, 'and ought to terrify you!' To tell you the truth, it was something terrible, but though I didn't like it I wouldn't flinch. Of course it was all in fun, for he is really very kind-hearted," concluded Betsy.

"All the same I don't enjoy the thought of having dinner with him,"

responded the practical Jane. "I've half a mind not to go."

"Oh, Jane, that would never do! What would the Emperor think? After you have been invited, too. Besides, mother wouldn't let you stay away. An invitation from royalty is a command."

"But Napoleon isn't--"

"Hush," cried Betsy, not wishing to hear her new friend belittled. She always took offence if any one called him prisoner.

In spite of her professed distaste for the dinner, Jane would have been disappointed had she been obliged to stay at home. She set out gayly enough, proud in her secret heart that she was to have the honor of being in the company of the great man.

Nine o'clock, Napoleon's dinner hour, was late for the little girls. As they entered his apartment the Emperor greeted them cordially, meeting them with extended hands, and a moment after, Cipriani, his _maitre d'hotel_, stood at the door.

"_Le diner de votre Majeste est servi._" Whereupon Napoleon, with a girl on each side, led the way after Cipriani, who walked backward, followed by the rest of his suite, who were dining with him.

Hardly had they taken their places when Napoleon began to quiz Betsy on the fondness of the English for "rosbif and plum pudding."

"It is better than eating frogs."

"Oh, my dear Mees, how you wrong us!"

"Ah, but see here!" cried Betsy, and she brought him a caricature of a long, lean Frenchman with his mouth open, his tongue out, and a frog on the tip of it, ready to jump down his throat. Under it was written, "A Frenchman's Dinner."

The Emperor laughed loudly at this. "You are impertinent," he cried, pinching Betsy's ear. "I must show this to the pet.i.t Las Cases. He will not love you so much for laughing at his countrymen."

Upon this Betsy turned very red. The Emperor had touched a vulnerable point. The young Las Cases, a boy of fourteen, was now at dinner with them, and Napoleon had found that he could easily tease Betsy about him.

"He will not want a wife," continued Napoleon, "who makes fun of him;"

and Betsy, inwardly enraged, could only maintain a dignified silence.

The Emperor gazed intently at his young friend, and later, when they rose from the table, he called young Las Cases.

"Come, kiss her; this is your revenge."

Betsy looked about vainly for a means of escape. But the Emperor had already closed his hands over hers, holding them so that she had no chance to get away, while young Las Cases, with a mischievous smile, approached and kissed her.

As soon as her hands were at liberty, Betsy boxed the boy's ears and awaited her chance to pay Napoleon off.

There was no inside hall to go from Napoleon's apartments to the rest of the house, and it was necessary to pa.s.s outside along a steep, narrow path, wide enough for only one at a time.

An idea flashed into the mind of mischievous Betsy as Napoleon led the way, followed by Count Las Cases, his son, and last by Jane.