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“Oh, the lemons, you mean? Couldn’t be helped, I’ot to be ht at Chez Bonaparte means bitter and sharp and sour as Papa’s disappointment And it is Bonaparte, Victoria, you cloud-brained little et it” Napoleon leaned forward He rested his chin on both rifle-barrels “But I aoodest That’s the whole point! I’ood that it was best for everyone if I was Emperor, and once I was Emperor, I just felt so sorry for all the people I wasn’t Eood I was, as well It’s not my fault they’re too stupid to see it In fact, ood that I, Napoleon Bonaparte, will take you home to Haworthwith the lemons Isn’t that lovely of me? I think so!”

Branwell cheered and spun round “See? See? I told you!”

“How do you knoe’re from Haworth?” Anne said slowly “How do you even know about Haworth at all? It’s not any place for an Emperor to know about”

“Ah, but I do know about it I know all about it And Keighley and Yorkshire and England, too After all, I sent hley to fetch me a bat-tree quite recently He did say it was a bit of a mud puddle, but it’s very hard to impress my boy He’s seen so much”

“England?” Victoria said softly

“The Voltaic Pyle,” breathed Anne

“Brunty,” Branhispered “But he said he got thethe bat-tree frohley”

Bonaparte stood up and raised his rifle in the air “I will tell you a story A story about a good ood that when he conquers a city, he i up the place so it looks pretty This ood, he does all the work himself so that all his friends can relax and drink cocktails by the river!”

Miss Agnes frowned She whispered in Victoria’s pale lacy ear: “What do we say about telling fibs to puff ourselves up?”

“Puffed up is stuffed up,” Victoria whispered back with a little grin Old Boney paid them no mind

“This good ot to work renovating one enoruessed—and what did he find when he dug the mess out of the corners of this fortress with his honest, hardworking hands? Four ancient statues! Three granite girls and a granite boy And when this goodup the neat, tidy cellar? Why, a door! An iron door hidden by a curtain of white silk A totally unlocked door! Anyonein and out for centuries, just as they pleased! This door, in its turn, opened on a long dark passage, diht of rickety, entirely unsafe, steps leadingwho knohere? I knohere, mon chers! To a completely unremarkable moor in a completely unremarkable country with a co at all on it This is a place I have never seen It does not smell like home It does not feel like hoood This good man does not like this bad place But he needs it Because all roads to Switzerland in somewhere, mustn’t they? It seems that in our case, all roads that lead froh an odd little circle of dreary brush with Keighley at one edge of it, and us on the other, and a funny old place called Haworth right in the middle”

“It’s not dreary You’re dreary,” Anne mumbled

“What a coincidence that four little breather children from Haworth popped into existence in Glass Town just as our Brunty was captured! Incroyable! But I think it is not, my sweethearts My best spy is best for a reason, no? He tells ht you were quite alone, you said the strangest things aboutto life So this good man asks a question” Bonaparte bent down and stared into Branwell’s dark eyes with his eyes of bone “Am I your toy, child?”

“No,” Bran choked out But you are, you are, his brain crowed And you’re a and you’re real!

Bonaparte’s boney lip trembled He searched Bran’s eyes Then he sat down on the floor and began to weep