THE SERJEANT'S TALE. 125 



with some ornamental shrubs of a species of 

 China-cypress. 



At the base of a hill, and but a few feet from 

 the tomb enclosure., is Napoleon's spring, a 

 small basin, over-arched by the bank above, and 

 overgrown by luxuriant herbage. The water it 

 supplies exudes from a compact red rock, at the 

 rate of two gallons per minute ; the superfluous 

 quantity running off, through narrow channels, 

 to water the valley. It is exceedingly transpa- 

 rent and cool, and is supposed to be identical 

 with the water at Sandy Bay. By Napoleon's 

 express desire, all the water he drank was ob- 

 tained from this source. 



The guardian and cicerone of the tomb is an 

 old English sergeant, with a fine rubicund face, 

 and who carries a stick of ample dimensions, to 

 assist a limping gait. He goes through his evo- 

 lutions as showman with great precision. After 

 entertaining the visitor with "a taste of his 

 quality," by recounting some of the more remark- 

 able events of his own life, he will, as a subject of 

 secondary importance, undertake to say some- 

 thing of Napoleon, and informs us, that this was 

 "the General's" favourite resort, where, seated 

 beneath the shade of the willows, he read, while 

 Madam Bertrand's children played around him, 

 that after his decease, the body lay in state at 



