play the spy upon me at the table
of Fouche. I remembered also the reception I had met with from the
conqueror of Italy; and I experienced, moreover, no slight pain at the
thought of quitting one from whom I had received so many proofs of
confidence, and to whom I had been attached from early boyhood. These
considerations constantly triumphed over the disgust to which I was
subjected by a number of circumstances, and by the increasing vexations
occasioned by the conflict between my private sentiments and the nature
of the duties I had to perform.

I was thus kept in a state of perplexity, from which some unforeseen
circumstance alone could extricate me. Such a circumstance at length
occurred, and the following is the history of my first rupture with
Napoleon:

On the 27th of February 1802, at ten at night, Bonaparte dictated to me a
despatch of considerable importance and urgency, for M. de Talleyrand,
requesting the Minister for Foreign Affairs to come to the Tuileries next
morning at an appointed hour. According to custom, I put the letter into
the hands of the office messenger that it might be forwarded to its
destination.

This was Saturday. The following day, Sunday, M. de Talleyrand came as
if for an audience about mid-day. The First Consul immediately began to
confer with him on the subject of the letter sent the previous evening,
and was astonished to learn that the Minister had not received it
until the morning. He immediately rang for the messenger, and ordered me
to be sent for. Being in a very bad humour, he pulled the bell with so
much fury that he struck his hand violently against the angle of the
chimney-piece. I hurried to his presence. "Why," he said, addressing me
hastily, "why was not my letter delivered yesterday evening?"--"I do not
know: I put it at once into the hands of the person whose duty it was to
see that it was sent."--"Go and find the cause of the delay, and come
back quickly." Having rapidly made my inquiries, I returned to the
cabinet. "Well?" said the First Consul, whose irritation seemed to have
increased. "Well, General, it is not the fault of anybody, M. de
Talleyrand was not to be found, either at the office or at his own
residence, or at the houses of any of his friends where he was thought
likely to be." Not knowing with whom to be angry, restrained by the
coolness of M. de Talleyrand, yet at the same time ready to burst with
rage, Bonaparte rose from his seat, and proceeding