There were many who
would most willingly have laid down the remainder of their lives
to bring him a little ease, and yet all that we could do was to
sit and grumble in our cafes and stare at the map, counting up
the leagues of water which lay between us.
It seemed that he might have been in the moon for all that we
could do to help him. But that was only because we were all
soldiers and knew nothing of the sea.
Of course, we had our own little troubles to make us bitter, as
well as the wrongs of our Emperor. There were many of us who had
held high rank and would hold it again if he came back to his
own. We had not found it possible to take service under the
white flag of the Bourbons, or to take an oath which might turn
our sabres against the man whom we loved. So we found ourselves
with neither work nor money. What could we do save gather
together and gossip and grumble, while those who had a little
paid the score and those who had nothing shared the bottle? Now
and then, if we were lucky, we managed to pick a quarrel with one
of the Garde du Corps, and if we left him on his hack in the Bois
we felt that we had struck a blow for Napoleon once again.
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