Then comes the fable of the 500 men of the rear guard, who, it is pretended, saw them die!  I make no doubt that the story of the poisoning was the invention of Den——.  He was a babbler, who understood a story badly, and repeated it worse.  I do not think it would have been a crime to have given opium to the infected.  On the contrary, it would have been obedience to the dictates of reason.  Where is the man who would not, in such a situation, have preferred a prompt death, to being exposed to the lingering tortures inflicted by barbarians?  If my child, and I believe I love him as much as any father does his; had been in such a state; my advice would have been the same; if I had been among the infected myself, I should have demanded to be so treated.

Such was the reasoning at St. Helena, and such was the, view which he and every one else took of the case twenty years ago at Jaffa.

Our little army arrived at Cairo on the 14th of June, after a painful and harassing march of twenty-five days.  The heats during the passage of the desert between El-Arish and Belbeis exceeded thirty-three degrees.  On placing the bulb of the thermometer in the sand the mercury rose to forty-five degrees.  The deceitful mirage was even more vexatious than in the plains of Bohahire’h.  In spite of our experience an excessive thirst, added to a perfect illusion, made us goad on our wearied horses towards lakes which vanished at our approach; and left behind nothing but salt and arid sand.  In two days my cloak was completely covered with salt, left on it after the evaporation of the moisture which held it in solution.  Our horses, who ran eagerly to the brackish springs of the desert, perished in numbers; after travelling about a quarter of a league from the spot where they drank the deleterious fluid.

Bonaparte preceded his entry into the capital of Egypt by one of those lying bulletins which only imposed on fools.  “I will bring with me,” said he, “many prisoners and flags.  I have razed the palace of the Djezzar and the ramparts of Acre—­not a stone remains upon another, All the inhabitants have left the city, by sea.  Djezzar is severely wounded.”

I confess that I experienced a painful sensation in writing, by his dictation, these official words, everyone of which was an imposition.  Excited by all I had just witnessed, it was difficult for me to refrain from making the observation; but his constant reply was, “My dear fellow, you are a simpleton:  you do not understand this business.”  And he observed, when signing the bulletin, that he would yet fill the world with admiration, and inspire historians and poets.

Our return to Cairo has been attributed to the insurrections which broke out during the unfortunate expedition into Syria.  Nothing is more incorrect.  The term insurrection cannot be properly applied to the foolish enterprises of the angel El-Mahdi in the Bohahire’h, or to the less important disturbances in the Charkyeh.  The reverses experienced before St. Jean d’Acre, the fear, or rather the prudent anticipation of a hostile landing, were sufficient motives, and the only ones, for our return to Egypt.  What more could we do in Syria but lose men and time, neither of which the General had to spare?