It was hence that Gruise and his leaguers led
Charles the Ninth a prisoner to Paris. Here, booted and spurred, and
with all his dogs about him, Napoleon met the Pope beside a woodland
cross. Here, on his way to Elba not so long after, he kissed the
eagle of the Old Guard, and spoke words of passionate farewell to his
soldiers. And here, after Waterloo, rather than yield its ensign to
the new power, one of his faithful regiments burned that memorial of
so much toil and glory on the Grand Master's table, and drank its
dust in brandy, as a devout priest consumes the remnants of the Host.
IN THE SEASON
Close into the edge of the forest, so close that the trees of the
BORNAGE stand pleasantly about the last houses, sits a certain small
and very quiet village. There is but one street, and that, not long
ago, was a green lane, where the cattle browsed between the
doorsteps. As you go up this street, drawing ever nearer the
beginning of the wood, you will arrive at last before an inn where
artists lodge. To the door (for I imagine it to be six o'clock on
some fine summer's even), half a dozen, or maybe half a score, of
people have brought out chairs, and now sit sunning themselves, and
waiting the omnibus from Melun.
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