He said, in a loud voice, when I entered the salon where he was surrounded by the officers who formed his brilliant staff, “I am glad to see you, at last”—­“Te voila donc, enfin;”, but as soon as we were alone he made me understand that he was pleased with my reserve, and thanked me for it.  I was immediately placed at the head of his Cabinet.  I spoke to him the same evening respecting the insurrection of the Venetian territories, of the dangers which menaced the French, and of those which I had escaped, etc.  “Care thou’ nothing about it,” said he;

   —­[He used to ‘tutoyer’ me in this familiar manner until his return
   to Milan.]—­

“those rascals shall pay for it.  Their republic has had its day, and is done.”  This republic was, however, still existing, wealthy and powerful.  These words brought to my recollection what I had read in a work by one Gabriel Naude, who wrote during the reign of Louis XIII. for Cardinal de Bagin:  “Do you see Constantinople, which flatters itself with being the seat of a double empire; and Venice, which glories in her stability of a thousand years?  Their day will come.”

In the first conversation which Bonaparte had with me, I thought I could perceive that he was not very well satisfied with the preliminaries.  He would have liked to advance with his army to Vienna.  He did not conceal this from me.  Before he offered peace to Prince Charles, he wrote to the Directory that he intended to pursue his success, but that for this purpose he reckoned on the co-operation of the armies of the Sambre-et-Meuse and the Rhine.  The Directory replied that he must not reckon on a diversion in Germany, and that the armies of the Sambre-et-Meuse and the Rhine were not to pass that river.  A resolution so unexpected—­a declaration so contrary to what he had constantly solicited, compelled him to terminate his triumphs, and renounce his favourite project of planting the standard of the republic on the ramparts of Vienna, or at least of levying contributions on the suburbs of that capital.

A law of the 23d of August 1794 forbade the use of any other names than those in the register of births.  I wished to conform to this law, which very foolishly interfered with old habits.  My eldest brother was living, and I therefore designated myself Fauvelet the younger.  This annoyed General Bonaparte.  “Such change of name is absolute nonsense,” said he.  “I have known you for twenty years by the name of Bourrienne.  Sign as you still are named, and see what the advocates with their laws will do.”

On the 20th of April, as Bonaparte was returning to Italy, he was obliged to stop on an island of the Tagliamento, while a torrent passed by, which had been occasioned by a violent storm.  A courier appeared on the right bank of the river.  He reached the island.  Bonaparte read in the despatches of the Directory that the armies of the Sambre-et-Meuse and the Rhine were in motion; that they were preparing