al returned
incessantly to the fatal spot in the moat. There are few who have not
seen that spot. Who has not made a pilgrimage to Vincennes and dropped a
tear where the victim fell? The fidelity of the poor dog excited so much
interest that the police prevented any one from visiting the fatal spot,
and the dog was no longer heard to howl over his master's grave.

I promised to state the truth respecting the death of the Due d'Enghien,
and I have done so, though it has cost me some pain. Harrel's narrative,
and the shocking circumstance of the grave being dug beforehand, left me
no opportunity of cherishing any doubts I might have wished to entertain;
and everything which followed confirmed the view I then took of the
subject. When Harrel left me on the 22d I determined to go to Malmaison
to see Madame Bonaparte, knowing, from her sentiments towards the House
of Bourbon, that she would be in the greatest affliction. I had
previously sent to know whether it would be convenient for her to see me,
a precaution I had never before observed, but which I conceived to be
proper upon that occasion. On my arrival I was immediately introduced to
her boudoir, where she was alone with Hortense and Madame de Remusat.
They were all deeply afflicted. "Bourrienne," exclaimed Josephine,
as soon as she perceived me, "what a dreadful event! Did you but know
the state of mind Bonaparte is in! He avoids, he dreads the presence of
every one! Who could have suggested to him such an act as this?"
I then acquainted Josephine with the particulars which I had received
from Harrel. "What barbarity!" she resumed. "But no reproach can rest
upon me, for I did everything to dissuade him from this dreadful project.
He did not confide the secret to me, but I guessed it, and he
acknowledged all. How harshly he repelled my entreaties! I clung to
him! I threw myself at his feet! 'Meddle with what concerns you!'
he exclaimed angrily. 'This is not women's business! Leave me!' And he
repulsed me with a violence which he had never displayed since our first
interview after your return from Egypt. Heavens! what will become of
us?"

I could say nothing to calm affliction and alarm in which I participated,
for to my grief for the death of the Due d'Enghien was added my regret
that Bonaparte should be capable of such a crime. "What," said
Josephine, "can be thought of this in Paris? He must be the object of
universal, imprecation, for even here his flatterers appea