rst,--it had never left my thoughts day or night.
The half-rising blush, the slightly averted head, the mingled look of
impatience and kindness,--all were there; and so entranced had I become,
that I feared each instant lest the vision would depart, and leave
me dark and desolate. The silence of the room was almost unbroken. A
distant murmur of voices, the tones of a harp, were all I heard; and I
sat, I know not how long, thus wrapped in ecstasy.

A tall screen of Chinese fabric separated the part of the room I
occupied from the rest, and left me free to contemplate alone those
charms which each moment grew stronger upon me. An hour might
perhaps have thus elapsed, when suddenly I heard the sound of voices
approaching, but in a different direction from that of the salons. They
were raised above the ordinary tone of speaking, and one in particular
sounded in a strange accent of mingled passion and sarcasm which I shall
never forget. The door of the room was flung open before I could rise
from my chair; and two persons entered, neither of whom could I see from
my position behind the screen.

"I ask you, again and again, Is the treaty of Amiens a treaty, or is it
not?" said a harsh, imperious tone I at once recognized as that of the
First Consol, while his voice actually trembled with anger.

"My Lord Whitworth observed, if I mistake not," replied a measured and
soft accent, where a certain courtier-like unction prevailed, "that the
withdrawal of the British troops from Malta would follow, on our making
a similar step as regards our forces in Switzerland and Piedmont."

"What right have they to make such a condition? They never complained of
the occupation of Switzerland at the time of the treaty. I will not hear
of such a stipulation. I tell you. Monsieur de Talleyrand, I 'd rather
see the English in the Faubourg St. Antoine than in the Island of Malta.
Why should we treat with England as a Continental power? Of India, if
she will; and as to Egypt, I told my lord that sooner or later it must
belong to France."

"A frankness he has reason to be thankful for," observed M. de
Talleyrand, in a voice of sarcastic slyness.

"Que voulez-vous?" replied Bonaparte, in a raised tone. "They want a
war, and they shall have it. What matter the cause?--such treaties of
peace as these had better be covered with black crape." Then dropping
his voice to a half-whisper, he added: "You must see him to-morrow;
explain how the attacks of