I had followed him to the hall, and on my way back to the cabinet I attempted to soothe him, and I begged him not to be thus discomposed by a circumstance which, after all, was of no great moment.  I do not know whether his anger was increased by the sight of the blood which flowed from his hand, and which he was every moment looking at; but however that might be, a transport of furious passion, such as I had never before witnessed, seized him; and as I was about to enter the cabinet after him he threw back the door with so much violence that, had I been two or three inches nearer him, it must infallibly have struck me in the face.  He accompanied this action, which was almost convulsive, with an appellation, not to be borne; he exclaimed before M. de Talleyrand, “Leave me alone; you are a fool.”  At an insult so atrocious I confess that the anger which had already mastered the First Consul suddenly seized on me.  I thrust the door forward with as much impetuosity as he had used in throwing it back, and, scarcely knowing what I said, exclaimed, “You are a hundredfold a greater fool than I am!” I then banged the door and went upstairs to my apartment, which was situated over the cabinet.

I was as far from expecting as from wishing such an occasion of separating from the First Consul.  But what was done could not be undone; and therefore, without taking time for reflection, and still under the influence of the anger that had got the better of me, I penned the following positive resignation: 

General—­The state of my health no longer permits me to continue in your service.  I therefore beg you to accept my resignation. 
                         Bourrienne.

Some moments after this note was written I saw Bonaparte’s saddle-horses brought up to the entrance of the Palace.  It was Sunday morning, and, contrary to his usual custom on that day, he was going to ride out.

Duroc accompanied him.  He was no sooner done than I, went down into his cabinet, and placed my letter on his table.  On returning at four o’clock with Duroc Bonaparte read my letter.  “Ah! ah!” said he, before opening it, “a letter from Bourrienne.”  And he almost immediately added, for the note was speedily perused, “He is in the sulks.—­Accepted.”  I had left the Tuileries at the moment he returned, but Duroc sent to me where I was dining the following billet: 

The First Consul desires me, my dear Bourrienne, to inform you that he accepts your resignation, and to request that you will give me the necessary information respecting your papers.—­Yours,
                            Duroc.

P.S.:—­I will call on you presently.

Duroc came to me at eight o’clock the same evening.  The First Consul was in his cabinet when we entered it.  I immediately commenced giving my intended successor the necessary explanations to enable him to enter upon his new duties.  Piqued at finding that I did not speak to him, and at the coolness with which I instructed Duroc, Bonaparte said to me in a harsh tone, “Come, I have had enough of this!  Leave me.”  I stepped down from the ladder on which I had mounted for the purpose of pointing out to Duroc the places in which the various papers were deposited and hastily withdrew.  I too had quite enough of it!