said to the sergeant, "Take this Hussar to the citadel." I left
without saying a word, and without General Suchet, who did not know
me, suspecting that the scene he had just witnessed had taken place
between a father and his son. It was not until the next day that he
learned the truth, and he has often spoken to me since, with
laughter, about the episode.

On my arrival at the citadel, an ancient Genoese building situated
near the harbour, I was locked into a big room lit by a high window,
which faced toward the sea. I recovered slowly from my fright. The
reprimand which I had received seemed to me to be deserved; however I
was less concerned at having disobeyed the General than I was at
having upset my father. I passed the rest of the day sadly enough.

In the evening, an old ex-soldier of the Genoan force brought me a
jug of water, a piece of ration bread, and a bale of straw, on which
I lay down, without being able to eat. I could not go to sleep; at
first because I was too upset, and later because of the arrival of
some large rats, which ran about me and soon made off with my piece
of bread. I was lying in the dark, a prey to my sad reflections,
when, at about ten o'clock, I heard the bolts of my prison being
drawn and I saw Spire, my father's old and faithful servant. He told
me that after my despatch to the citadel, Capt. Gault, Col. Ménard,
and all my father's officers had asked him to pardon me. The General
had agreed, and had sent him, Spire, to find me and take the order
for my release to the governor of the fort. I was taken before the
governor, General Buget, an excellent man, who had lost an arm in
battle. He knew me and was very fond of my father. He felt it his
duty, after giving me back my sabre, to give me a long lecture, to
which I listened patiently, but which made me reflect that I would