are welcome, general!"

"General," replied Moreau, smiling courteously, while all present made a
circle around them to see how this new Caesar would meet the new Pompey,
"you come from Egypt, victorious, while I come, defeated, from Italy."

"A defeat which was not yours, and for which you are not responsible,
general. It was Joubert's fault. If he had rejoined the Army of Italy
as soon as he had been made commander-in-chief, it is more than probable
that the Russians and Austrians, with the troops they then had, could
not have resisted him. But he remained in Paris for his honeymoon! Poor
Joubert paid with his life for that fatal month which gave the enemy
time to gather its reinforcements. The surrender of Mantua gave them
fifteen thousand men on the eve of the battle. It was impossible that
our poor army should not have been overwhelmed by such united forces."

"Alas! yes," said Moreau; "it is always the greater number which defeats
the smaller."

"A great truth, general," exclaimed Bonaparte; "an indisputable truth."

"And yet," said Arnault, joining in the conversation, "you yourself,
general, have defeated large armies with little ones."

"If you were Marius, instead of the author of 'Marius,' you would
not say that, my dear poet. Even when I beat great armies with little
ones--listen to this, you young men who obey to-day, and will command
to-morrow--it was always the larger number which defeated the lesser."

"I don't understand," said Arnault and Lefebvre together.

But Moreau made a sign with his head to show that he understood.
Bonaparte continued: "Follow my theory, for it contains the whole art
of war. When with lesser forces I faced a large army, I gathered mine
together, with great rapidity, fell like a thunderbolt on a wing of the
great army, and overthrew it; then I profited by the disorder into which
this manoeuvre never failed to throw the enemy to attack again, always
with my whole army, on the other side. I beat them, in this way, in
detail; and the victory which resulted was always, as you see, the
triumph of the many over the few."

As the able general concluded his definition of his own genius, the door
opened and the servant announced that dinner was served.

"General," said Bonaparte, leading Moreau to Josephine, "take in my
wife. Gentlemen, follow them."

On this invitation all present moved from the salon to the dining-room.

After dinner, on pretence of showing him a magnificent