The old sergeant appeared at Versailles in course of time and demanded
admittance to the Emperor, saying that he had been asked to supper. When
Napoleon was informed, he had the veteran shown in and, recognising his
comrade of the baked potatoes, said at once that the sergeant should sup
with him. The sergeant's reply was: "Sire, how can a non-commissioned
officer dine with a general?" It was then, Napoleon, delighted with the
humour and the boldness of his grenadier, summoned the Old Guard, and had
the sergeant promoted to the rank of captain on the spot.
It was these apparently incongruous things, together with legends that
I had heard and read of Napoleon, which gave me the idea of Valmond.
First, a sketch of about five thousand words was written, and it looked
as though I were going to publish it as a short story; but one day,
sitting in a drawing-room in front of a grand piano, on the back of which
were a series of miniatures of the noted women who had played their part
in Napoleon's life, the incident of the Countess of Carnstadt (I do not
use the real name) at St. Helena associated itself with the picture in my
memory of the philanthropist of the street corner. Thereupon the whole
story of a son of Napoleon, ignorant of his own birth, but knowing that
a son had been born to Napoleon at St. Helena, flitted through my
imagination; and the story spread out before me all in an hour,
like an army with banners.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25