"
In a couple of hours he had shaped and finished the plan of a campaign
the most triumphant that even he ever planned and accomplished. Then his
mind became satisfied with good work, and he mounted his horse, and
for the last time rode through the grandest encampment the sun has ever
seen, distributing his calm smile, as if his nature were too large for
tempests.
* * * * *
On the sacred white coast, which the greatest of Frenchmen should only
approach as a prisoner, stood a man of less imperious mould, and of
sweet and gentle presence--a man who was able to command himself in the
keenest disappointment, because he combined a quick sense of humour with
the power of prompt action, and was able to appreciate his own great
qualities without concluding that there were no other. His face, at all
times except those of hot battle, was filled with quiet sadness, as if
he were sent into the world for some great purpose beyond his knowledge,
yet surely not above his aim. Years of deep anxiety and ever urgent duty
had made him look old before his time, but in no wise abated his natural
force. He knew that he had duty before him still, and he felt that the
only discharge was death.
But now, in the tenderness of his heart, he had forgotten all about
himself, and even for the moment about his country. Nelson had taken the
last fond look at the dear old friend of many changeful years, so true
and so pleasant throughout every change.
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