On his return to Cairo the General-in-Chief had no longer any doubt as to the course which the Porte intended to adapt.  The numerous class of persons who believed that the Ottoman Porte had consented to our occupation of Egypt were suddenly undeceived.  It, was then asked how we could, without that consent, have attempted such an enterprise?  Nothing, it was said, could justify the temerity of such an expedition, if it should produce a rupture between France, the Ottoman empire, and its allies.  However, for the remainder of the year Bonaparte dreaded nothing except an expedition from Gaza and El-Arish, of which the troops of Djezzar had already taken possession.  This occupation was justly regarded as a decided act of hostility; war was thus practically declared.  “We must adopt anticipatory measures,” thought Napoleon; “we must destroy this advanced guard of the Ottoman empire, overthrow the ramparts of Jaffa and Acre, ravage the country, destroy all her resources, so as to render the passage of an army across the desert impracticable.”  Thus was planned the expedition against Syria.

General Berthier, after repeated entreaties, had obtained permission to return to France.  The ‘Courageuse’ frigate, which was to convey him home, was fitting out at Alexandria; he had received his instructions, and was to leave Cairo on the 29th of January, ten days before Bonaparte’s departure for Syria.  Bonaparte was sorry to part with him; but he could not endure to see an old friend, and one who had served him well in all his campaigns, dying before his eyes, the victim of nostalgia and romantic love.  Besides, Berthier had been for some time past, anything but active in the discharge of his duties.  His passion, which amounted almost to madness, impaired the feeble faculties with which nature had endowed him.  Some writers have ranked him in the class of sentimental lovers:  be this as it may, the homage which Berthier rendered to the portrait of the object of his adoration more frequently excited our merriment than our sensibility.

One day I went with an order from Bonaparte to the chief of his staff, whom I found on his knees before the portrait of Madame Visconti, which was hanging opposite the door.  I touched him, to let him know I was there.  He grumbled a little, but did not get angry.

The moment was approaching when the two friends were to part, perhaps forever.  Bonaparte was sincerely distressed at this separation, and the chief of his staff was informed of the fact.  At a moment when it was supposed Berthier was on his way to Alexandria, he presented himself to the General-in-Chief.  “You are, then, decidedly going to Asia?” said he.—­“You know,” replied the General, “that all is ready, and I shall set out in a few days.”—­“Well, I will not leave you.  I voluntarily renounce all idea of returning to France.  I could not endure to forsake you at a moment when you are going to encounter new dangers.  Here are my instructions and my passport.”  Bonaparte, highly pleased with this resolution, embraced Berthier; and the coolness which had been excited by his request to return home was succeeded by a sincere reconciliation.