conscience; and as he sat on the bench he had the appearance of one led by curiosity to be present at this interesting trial, rather than of an accused person, to whom the proceedings might end in condemnation and death.  But for the fall of Moreau in the ranks of the enemy,—­but for the foreign cockade which disgraced the cap of the conqueror of Hohenlinden, his complete innocence would long since have been put beyond doubt, and it would have been acknowledged that the most infamous machinations were employed for his destruction.  It is evident that Lajolais, who had passed from London to Paris, and from Paris to London, had been acting the part of an intriguer rather than of a conspirator; and that the object of his missions was not so much to reconcile Moreau and Pichegru as to make Pichegru the instrument of implicating Moreau.  Those who supposed Lajolais to be in the pay of the British Government were egregiously imposed on.  Lajolais was only in the pay of the secret police; he was condemned to death, as was expected, but he received his pardon, as was agreed upon.  Here was one of the disclosures which Pichegru might have made; hence the necessity of getting him out of the way before the trial.  As to the evidence of the man named Rolland, it was clear to everybody that Moreau was right when he said to the President, “In my opinion, Rolland is either a creature of the police, or he has given his evidence under the influence of fear.”  Rolland made two declarations the first contained nothing at all; the second was in answer to the following observations:  “You see you stand in a terrible situation; you must either be held to be an accomplice in the conspiracy, or you must be taken as evidence.  If you say nothing, you will be considered in the light of an accomplice; if you confess, you will be saved.”  This single circumstance may serve to give an idea of the way the trials were conducted so as to criminate Moreau.  On his part the general repelled the attacks, of which he was the object, with calm composure and modest confidence, though flashes of just indignation would occasionally burst from him.  I recollect the effect he produced upon the Court and the auditors at one of the sittings, when the President had accused him of the design of making himself Dictator.  He exclaimed, “I Dictator!  What, make myself Dictator at the head of the partisans of the Bourbons!  Point out my partisans!  My partisans would naturally be the soldiers of France, of whom I have commanded nine-tenths, and saved more than fifty thousand.  These are the partisans I should look to!  All my aides de camp, all the officers of my acquaintance, have been arrested; not the shadow of a suspicion could be found against any of them, and they have been set at liberty.  Why, then, attribute to me the madness of aiming to get myself made Dictator by the aid of the adherents of the old French Princes, of persons who have fought in their cause since 1792?  You allege that these men, in the space of four-and-twenty hours, formed the project of raising me to the Dictatorship!  It is madness to think of it!  My fortune and my pay have been alluded to; I began the world with nothing; I might have had by this time fifty millions; I have merely a house and a bit of ground; as to my pay, it is forty thousand francs.  Surely that sum will not be compared with my services.”