I faithfully related all that he had said of Moreau, observing that at one moment I imagined he was about to speak of the Due d’Enghien, when he suddenly reverted to what he had been saying, and never made the slightest allusion to the subject.

Madame Bonaparte replied to me, “Napoleon has spoken the truth respecting Moreau.  He was grossly deceived by those who believed they could best pay their court to him by calumniating that general.  His silence on the subject of the Due d’Enghien does not surprise me; he says as little respecting it as possible, and always in a vague manner, and with manifest repugnance.  When you see Bonaparte again be silent on the subject, and should chance bring it forward, avoid every expression in the smallest degree indicative of reproach; he would not suffer it; you would ruin yourself for ever in his estimation, and the evil is, alas! without remedy.  When you came to Malmaison I told you that I had vainly endeavoured to turn him from his fatal purpose, and how he had treated me.  Since then he has experienced but little internal satisfaction; it is only in the presence of his courtiers that he affects a calm and tranquil deportment; but I perceive his sufferings are the greater from thus endeavouring to conceal them.  By the by, I forgot to mention that he knew of the visit you paid me on the day after the catastrophe.  I dreaded that your enemies, the greater number of whom are also mine, might have misrepresented that interview; but, fortunately, he paid little attention to it.  He merely said, ’So you have seen Bourrienne?  Does he sulk at me?  Nevertheless I must do something for him.’  He has again spoken in the same strain, and repeated nearly the same expressions three days ago; and since he has commanded your presence to-day, I have not a doubt but he has something in view for your advantage.”—­“May I presume to inquire what it is?”—­“I do not yet know; but I would recommend to you, in the meantime, to be more strictly on your guard than ever; he is so suspicious, and so well informed of all that is done or said respecting himself.  I have suffered so much since I last saw you; never can I forget the unkind manner in which he rejected my entreaties!  For several days I laboured under a depression of spirits which greatly irritated him, because he clearly saw whence it proceeded.  I am not dazzled by the title of Empress; I dread some evil will result from this step to him, to my children, and to myself.  The miscreants ought to be satisfied; see to what they have driven us!  This death embitters every moment of my life.  I need not say to you, Bourrienne, that I speak this in confidence.”—­“You cannot doubt my prudence.”—­“No, certainly not, Bourrienne.  I do not doubt it.  My confidence in you is unbounded.  Rest assured that I shall never forget what you have done for me, under various circumstances, and the devotedness you evinced to me on your return from Egypt.—­Adieu, my friend.  Let me see you soon again.”