It was young Bonaparte, the republican general, and not Napoleon, the emperor, who was looking into his heart.
"Well," said John, in a sort of defiance, "if you had stuck to your early principles we wouldn't have all this now.

First Consul you might have been, but you shouldn't have gone any further." He turned away with a sigh of regret that so great a warrior and statesman, in the end, should have misused his energies.
He returned to the room below, blew out the lamp and opened the window again.

The cool fresh air once more poured into the room, and he took long deep breaths of it.

It was still raining, though lightly, and the pattering of the drops on the leaves made a pleasant sound.

The thunder and the lightning had ceased, though not the far rumble of artillery.
John knew that the sport of kings was still going on under the searchlights, and all his intense horror of the murderous monarchies returned.