After the failure of the artful publication of the pamphlet Fouche invited me to dine with him.  As the First Consul wished me to dine out as seldom as possible, I informed him of the invitation I had received.  He was, however, aware of it before, and he very readily gave me leave to go.  At dinner Joseph was placed on the right of Fouche, and I next to Joseph, who talked of nothing but his brother, his designs, the pamphlet, and the bad effect produced by it.  In all that fell from him there was a tone of blame and disapproval I told him my opinion, but with greater reserve than I had used towards his brother.  He seemed to approve of what I said; his confidence encouraged me, and I saw with pleasure that he entertained sentiments entirely similar to my own.  His unreserved manner so imposed upon me that, notwithstanding the experience I had acquired, I was far from suspecting myself to be in the company of a spy.  Next day the First Consul said to me very coldly, “Leave my letters in the basket, I will open them myself.”  This unexpected direction surprised me exceedingly, and I determined to play him a trick in revenge for his unfounded distrust.  For three mornings I laid at the bottom of the basket all the letters which I knew came from the Ministers, and all the reports which were addressed to me for the First Consul.  I then covered them over with those which; judging from their envelopes and seals, appeared to be of that trifling kind with which the First Consul was daily overwhelmed:  these usually consisted of requests that he would name the number of a lottery ticket, so, that the writer might have the benefit of his good luck—­solicitations that he would stand godfather to a child—­petitions for places—­announcements of marriages and births—­absurd eulogies, etc.  Unaccustomed to open the letters, he became impatient at their number, and he opened very few.  Often on the same day, but always on the morrow, came a fresh letter from a Minister, who asked for an answer to his former one, and who complained of not having received one.  The First Consul unsealed some twenty letters and left the rest.

The opening of all these letters, which he was not at other times in the habit of looking at, annoyed him extremely; but as I neither wished to carry the joke too far, nor to remain in the disagreeable position in which Joseph’s treachery had placed me, I determined to bring the matter to a conclusion.  After the third day, when the business of the night, which had been interrupted by little fits of ill-humour, was concluded, Bonaparte retired to bed.  Half an hour after I went to his chamber, to which I was admitted at all hours.  I had a candle in my hand, and, taking a chair, I sat down on the right side of the bed, and placed the candle on the table.  Both he and Josephine awoke.  “What is the matter?” he asked with surprise.  “General, I have come to tell you that I can no longer remain here, since I have lost your confidence.  You know