The First Consul, my dear Bourrienne, has just ordered me to send
     him this evening the keys of your residence in Paris, from which the
     furniture is not to be removed.

     He also directs me to put into a warehouse whatever furniture you
     may have at Ruel or elsewhere which you have obtained from
     Government.

     I beg of you to send me an answer, so as to assist me in the
     execution of these orders.  You promised me to have everything
     settled before the First Consul’s return.  I must excuse myself in
     the best way I can. 
                                   (Signed) Duroc.

     24 Brumaire, an X.
     (15th November 1802.)

Believing myself to be master of my own actions, I had formed the design of visiting England, whither I was called by some private business.  However, I was fully aware of the peculiarity of my situation, and I was resolved to take no step that should in any way justify a reproach.

On the 11th of January I therefore wrote to Duroc: 

My affairs require my presence in England for some time.  I beg of you, my dear Duroc, to mention my intended journey to the First Consul, as I do not wish to do anything inconsistent with his views.  I would rather sacrifice my own interest than displease him.  I rely on your friendship for an early answer to this, for uncertainty would be fatal to me in many respects.

The answer, which speedily arrived, was as follows:—­

     My dear Bourrienne—­I have presented to the First Consul the letter
     I just received from you.  He read it, and said, “No!”

     That is the only answer I can give you. (Signed) Duroc.

This monosyllable was expressive.  It proved to me that Bonaparte was conscious how ill he had treated me; and, suspecting that I was actuated by the desire of vengeance, he was afraid of my going to England, lest I should there take advantage of that liberty of the press which he had so effectually put down in France.  He probably imagined that my object was to publish statements which would more effectually have enlightened the public respecting his government and designs than all the scandalous anecdotes, atrocious calumnies, and ridiculous fabrications of Pelletier, the editor of the ‘Ambigu’.  But Bonaparte was much deceived in this supposition; and if there can remain any doubt on that subject, it will be removed on referring to the date of these Memoirs, and observing the time at which I consented to publish them.

I was not deceived as to the reasons of Bonaparte’s unceremonious refusal of my application; and as I well knew his inquisitorial character, I thought it prudent to conceal my notes.  I acted differently from Camoens.  He contended with the sea to preserve his manuscripts; I made the earth the depository of mine.  I carefully enclosed my most valuable notes and papers in a tin box, which I buried under ground.  A yellow tinge, the commencement of decay, has in some places almost obliterated the writing.