It was the countenance of an epileptic.

He raised the whip to his shoulder, and took a step towards the admiral.
'You insolent rascal!' he hissed.

It was the Italian word _coglione_ which he used, and I observed that as his feelings overcame him his French became more and more that of a foreigner.
For a moment he seemed to be about to slash the sailor across the face with his whip.

The latter took a step back, and clapped his hand to his sword.
'Have a care, Sire,' said he.
For a few instants the tension was terrible.

Then Napoleon brought the whip down with a sharp crack against his own thigh.
'Vice-Admiral Magon,' he cried, 'you will in future receive all orders connected with the fleet.