dings of the past. But he would have nothing to do with
Georges, and when Pichegru mooted the overthrow of Bonaparte and the
restoration of the Bourbons, he firmly warned him: "Do with Bonaparte
what you will, but do not ask me to put a Bourbon in his place."

From this resolve Moreau never receded. But his calculating reserve did
not save him. Already several suspects had been imprisoned in Normandy.
At Napoleon's suggestion five of them were condemned to death, in the
hope of extorting a confession; and the last a man named Querelle,
gratified his gaolers by revealing (February 14th) not only the lodging
of Georges in Paris, but the intention of other conspirators, among whom
was a French prince, to land at Biville. The plot was now coming to a
head, and so was the counter-plot. On the next day Moreau was arrested
by order of Napoleon, who feigned the utmost grief and surprise at
seeing the victor of Hohenlinden mixed up with royalist assassins in the
pay of England.[294]

Elated by this success, and hoping to catch the Comte d'Artois
himself, Napoleon forthwith despatched to that cliff one of his most
crafty and devoted servants, Savary, who commanded the _gendarmerie
d'elite._ Tricked out in suitable disguises, and informed by a
smuggler as to the royalist signals, Savary eagerly awaited the royal
quarry, and when Captain Wright's vessel hove in sight, he used his
utmost arts to imitate the signals that invited a landing. But the
crew were not to be lured to shore; and after fruitless endeavours he
returned to Paris--in time to take part in the murder of the Duc
d'Enghien.

Meanwhile the police were on the tracks of Pichegru and Georges. On
the last day of February the general was seized in bed in the house of
a treacherous friend: but not until the gates of Paris had been
closed, and domiciliary visits made, was Georges taken, and then only
after a desperate affray (March 9th). The arrest of the two Polignacs
and the Marquis de Riviere speedily followed.

Hitherto Napoleon had completely outwitted his foes. He knew well
enough that he was in no danger.

"I have run no real risks," he wrote to Melzi, "for the police had
its eyes on all these machinations, and I have the consolation of
not finding reason to complain of a single man among all those I
have placed in this huge administration, Moreau stands alone."
[295]

But now, at the moment of victory, when France was swelling with rage
ag