road were filled up. The First Consul was gratified by our devotion to
him, and gave us proofs of his satisfaction, though he himself seemed
always free from fear or uneasiness. Very often, indeed, he mildly
ridiculed our anxiety, and would relate very seriously to the good
Josephine what a narrow escape he had on the road; how men of a sinister
appearance had shown themselves many times on his way; how one of them
had had the boldness to aim at him, etc. And when he saw her well
frightened, he would burst out laughing, give her some taps or kisses on
her cheek and neck, saying to her, "Have no fear, little goose; they
would not dare." On these "days of furlough," as he called them, he was
occupied more with his private affairs than with those of state; but
never could he remain idle. He would make them pull down, put up again,
build, enlarge, set out, prune, incessantly, both in the chateau and in
the park, while he examined the bills of expenses, estimated receipts,
and ordered economies. Time passed quickly in all these occupations; and
the moment soon came when it was necessary to return, and, as he
expressed it, put on again the yoke of misery.




CHAPTER IV.

Towards the end of March, 1800, five or six months after my entrance into
the service of Madame. Bonaparte, the First Consul while at dinner one
day regarded me intently; and having carefully scrutinized and measured
me from head to foot, "Young man," said he, "would you like to go with me
on the campaign?" I replied, with much emotion, that I would ask nothing
better. "Very well, then, you shall go with me!" and on rising from the
table, he ordered Pfister, the steward, to place my name on the list of