t perhaps it would be lost to France. The faith of an
enemy is never to be trusted. See if Maret and Lavalette be here, and
send them to me."

[Footnote 75: The uneasiness given her by the terrors of
1815 conducted her to the grave. I hope the reader will
pardon me these particulars, and this note.]

Every thing, that bears the stamp of greatness of mind, seduces and
transports me. I confess, that my imagination was fired at the idea of
Napoleon generously devoting himself for France, and for his son. But
this remark of Napoleon's, "A nation of thirty millions of men, that
could suffer such a sacrifice, would be for ever dishonoured," a
remark that I had not foreseen, dissipated the enchantment. On
quitting the closet, I was stopped by the Duke of Rovigo, who said to
me: "You have been talking a long while with the Emperor, has any
thing new passed?"--"No," answered I; "we have been talking of his
departure:" and I gave him an account of our conversation. "Your
advice was noble," replied he; "but what I gave him was, I think,
preferable. It was, to come and fall with us before the walls of
Paris. He will not do so; because, in the first place, Fouche will not
leave it in his power; and, in the next, because the fear of
endangering every thing has laid hold of him. He will set off
to-night. God knows whither we shall go: but no matter, I will follow
him. My first object is, to know that he is out of danger. Besides, I
would rather ramble at a venture with him, than remain here. Fouche
thinks, that he shall get himself out of the scrape: he is mistaken;
he will be hanged like the rest, and more richly deserve it. France is
sunk, lost! I wish I was dead!"

While I was conversing with the Duke of Rovigo, Napoleon was
discussing the proposal, which I had ventured to submit to him.
Several times he was on the point of adopting it; but still recurred
to his prevailing idea, that such a sacrifice was unworthy a great
nation; and that France probably would derive no more advantage from
it, than had been derived from his abdication. All things considered,
therefore, Napoleon resolved, to entrust his fate "to fortune and the
winds." But the committee, advised by a despatch from our
plenipotentiaries, which I shall transcribe farther on, "that the
escape of Napoleon, before the conclusion of the negotiations, would
be considered by the allies as an act of bad faith on our part, and
woul