So passed the greatest Caesar of them all, the most brilliant empire, the bravest army.

Ah! had the king of Rome lived! Had there been some direct Napoleonic blood to take up the work! Vain dreams! The Great Man's brothers had been knaves and fools.
"And so to-night," the narrator ended, "I bury the casket in the chimney; within it, my hopes and few trinkets of the past of which I am an integral part.

Good-by, little glove; good-by, brave old medal! I am sending a drawing of the chimney to the good Abbe le Fanu.

He will outlive me.

He lives on forty-centime the day; treasures mean nothing to him; his cry, his eternal cry, is always of the People.