drew his hand over his chin. "Raise the glass. Am I quite right?"--
"Quite so."--"Not a hair has escaped me: what say you?"--"No, Sire,"
replied the valet de chambre. "No! I think I perceive one. Lift up the
glass, place it in a better light. How, rascal! Flattery? You deceive
me at St. Helena? On this rock? You, too, are an accomplice." With
this he gave them both a box on the ear, laughed, and joked in the most
pleasant manner possible.

An almost incredible instance of the determination of the exiles to make
as many enemies as they possibly could was exhibited to Antommarchi on
his arrival at Longwood. He states that before he was permitted to enter
on his functions as surgeon he was required to take an oath that he would
not communicate with the English, and that he would more especially avoid
giving them the least information respecting the progress of Napoleon's
disorder. He was not allowed to see his illustrious patient until the
oath was taken. After exacting such an oath from his physician the
attendants of Bonaparte had little right to complain, as they did, that
the real state of his disorder was purposely concealed from the world by
the English Government. It is more than probable that the constant
attempts observed to throw mystery and secrecy around them must have
tended to create the suspicion of escape, and to increase the consequent
rigour of the regulations maintained by the Governor.

Soon after the arrival of the priests Napoleon determined, we may suppose
partly in jest, to elevate one of them to the dignity of bishop, and he
chose for a diocese the Jumna. "The last box brought from Europe had
been broken open," says Antommarchi; "it contained the vases and church
ornaments. "Stop," said Napoleon, "this is the property of St. Peter;
have a care who touches it; send for the abbes--but talking of the abbes,
do you know that the Cardinal [Fesch] is a poor creature? He sends me