Bonaparte will be here in five or six days.”—­“What, sir?”—­“Yes, Sire.”—­“But proper measures are taken, the necessary orders given, and the Marshals are faithful to me.”—­“Sire, I suspect no man’s fidelity; but I can assure your Majesty that, as Bonaparte has landed, he will be here within a week.  I know him, and your Majesty cannot know him as well as I do; but I can venture too assure your Majesty with the same confidence that he will not be here six months hence.  He will be hurried into acts of folly which will ruin him.”—­“De Bourrienne, I hope the best from events, but if misfortune again compel me to leave France, and your second prediction be fulfilled, you may rely on me.”  During this short conversation the King appeared perfectly tranquil and resigned.

The next day I again visited the Tuileries, whither I had at those perilous times frequent occasion to repair.  On that day I received a list of twenty-five persons whom I was ordered to arrest.  I took the liberty to observe that such a proceeding was not only useless but likely to produce a very injurious effect at that critical moment.  The reasons I urged had not all the effect I expected.  However, some relaxation as to twenty-three of the twenty-five was conceded, but it was insisted that Fouche and Davoust should be arrested without delay.  The King repeatedly said, “I wish you to arrest Fouche.”—­“Sire, I beseech your Majesty to consider the inutility of such a measure.”—­“I am resolved upon Fouches arrest.  But I am sure you will miss him, for Andre could not catch him.”

My nocturnal installation as Prefect of the Police took place some time after midnight.  I had great repugnance to the arrest of Fouche, but the order having been given, there was no alternative but to obey it.  I communicated the order to M. Foudras, who very coolly observed, “Since we are to arrest him you need not be afraid, we shall have him fast tomorrow.”

The next day my agents repaired to the Duke of Otranto’s hotel, in the Rue d’Artois.  On showing their warrant Fouche said, “What does this mean?  Your warrant is of no force; it is mere waste-paper.  It purports to come from the Prefect of the Police, but there is no such Prefect.”  In my opinion Fouche was right, for my appointment, which took place during the night, had not been legally announced.  Be that as it may, on his refusal to surrender, one of my agents applied to the staff of the National Guard, requesting the support, in case of need, of an armed force.  General Dessolles repaired to the Tuileries to take the King’s orders on the subject.  Meanwhile Fouche, who never lost his self-possession, after talking to the police officers who remained with him, pretended to step aside for some indispensable purpose, but the door which he opened led into a dark passage through which he slipped, leaving my unfortunate agents groping about in the obscurity.  As for himself, he speedily gained the Rue Taitbout, where he stepped into a coach, and drove off.  This is the whole history of the notable arrest of Fouche.