Do you understand?"
"Exactly so," says Napoleonder. "I understand, and I will obey. I shall
never feel pity."
Then the angels and the archangels began to say to God: "Lord, why have
you laid upon him such a frightful command? If he goes forth so, without
mercy, he will kill every living soul on earth--he will leave none for
seed!"
"Be silent!" replied the Lord God. "He will not conquer long. He is
altogether too brave; because he fears neither others nor himself. He
thinks he will keep from pity, and does not know that pity, in the
human heart, is stronger than all else, and that not a man living is
wholly without it."
"But," the archangels say, "he is not a man; he is made of sand."
The Lord God replies: "Then you think he didn't receive a soul when my
water of life fell on his head?"
Napoleonder at once gathered together a great army speaking twelve
languages, and went forth to war. He conquered the Germans, he conquered
the Turks, he subdued the Swedes and the Poles.
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