the devil!” said Bonaparte, suddenly turning on me a look of astonishment.  “No one, I, declare, has ever told me; but I guessed it.  Having received a letter from Jaubert dated Leipsic, I recollected what your Majesty had often told me of your views respecting Persia and India.  I have not forgotten our conversation in Egypt, nor the great projects which you enfolded to me to relieve the solitude and sometimes the weariness of the cabinet of Cairo.  Besides, I long since knew your opinion of Amedee, of his fidelity, his ability, and his courage.  I felt convinced, therefore, that he had a mission to the Shah of Persia.”—­“You guessed right; but I beg of you, Bourrienne, say nothing of this to any person whatever.  Secrecy on this point is of grew importance.  The English would do him an ill turn, for they are well aware that my views are directed against their possessions and their influence in the East.”—­“I think, Sire, that my answer to Anedee’s worthy father is a sufficient guarantee for my discretion.  Besides, it was a mere supposition on my part, and I could have stated nothing with certainty before your Majesty had the kindness to inform me of the fact.  Instead of going to Hamburg, if your Majesty pleases, I will join Jaubert, accompany him to Persia, and undertake half his mission.”—­ “How! would you go with him?”—­“Yes, Sire; I am much attached to him.  He is an excellent man, and I am sure that he would not be sorry to have me with him.”—­“But . . .  Stop, Bourrienne, . . . this, perhaps, would not be a bad idea.  You know a little of the East.  You are accustomed to the climate.  You could assist Jaubert. . . .  But. . . .  No!  Daubert must be already far off—­I, fear you could not overtake him.  And besides you have a numerous family.  You will be more useful to me in Germany.  All things considered, go to Hamburg—­you know the country, and, what is better you speak the language.”

I could see that Bonaparte still had something to say to me.  As we were walking up and down the room he stopped; and looking at me with an expression of sadness, he said, “Bourrienne, you must, before I proceed to Italy, do me a service.  You sometimes visit my wife, and it is right; it is fit you should.  You have been too long one of the family not to continue your friendship with her.  Go to her.

—­[This employment of Bourrienne to remonstrate with Josephine is a complete answer to the charge sometimes made that Napoleon, while scolding, really encouraged the foolish expenses of his wife, as keeping her under his control.  Josephine was incorrigible.  “On the very day of her death,” says Madame de Remusat “she wished to put on a very pretty dressing-gown because she thought the Emperor of Russia would perhaps come to see her.  She died all covered with ribbons and rose-colored satin.”  “One would not, sure, be frightful when one’s dead!” As for Josephine’s great fault—­her failure to give Napoleon an heir—­he did not always wish for one.  In 1802, on his