which, as it drew near our hotel, should have warned us, but we had
heard so much since coming to the town that it did not occur to one
of us to look out of the window. We were all in the drawing-room
where my father was striding up and down, deep in thought, when the
valet-de-chambre, opening the double doors, announced, "The General
Bonaparte."

On entering, he hurried to embrace my father, who received him
very politely, but coolly. They had known each other for a long time.

The explanations about the lodgings could be disposed of in a few
words between two such people, and so they were. They had much else
to talk about; so they went alone into the bedroom, where they
remained in conference for more than an hour.

During this time, the officers who had come with General
Bonaparte chatted with us in the drawing-room. I never tired of
examining their martial appearance, their sun-bronzed faces, their
strange uniforms and their Turkish sabres, hung from cords. I
listened with interest to their stories of the campaign in Egypt, and
the battles which were fought there. I took pleasure in hearing them
talk of such celebrated places as the Pyramids, the Nile, Cairo,
Alexandria, Acre, the desert and so on. What delighted me most,
however, was the sight of the young Mameluke, Rustum. He had stayed
in the ante-chamber, where I went several times to admire his
costume, which he showed me willingly. He already spoke reasonable
French, and I never wearied of asking him questions.

General Lannes recalled having let me fire his pistols, when, in
1793, he was serving under my father in the camp at Miral. He was