walking up and down his chamber, when he sent for me, and ordered me to
take position opposite General Moreau's house (the one in Paris), to see
whether the arrest had taken place, and if there was any tumult, and to
return promptly and make my report. I obeyed; but nothing extraordinary
took place, and I saw only some police spies walking along the street,
and watching the door of the house of the man whom they had marked for
their prey. Thinking that my presence would probably be noticed, I
retired; and, as I learned while returning to the chateau that General
Moreau had been arrested on the road from his estate of Gros-Bois, which
he sold a few months later to Marshal Berthier, before leaving for the
United States, I quickened my pace, and hastened to announce to the First
Consul the news of the arrest. He knew this already, made no response,
and still continued thoughtful, and in deep reflection, as in the
morning.

Since I have been led to speak of General Moreau, I will recall by what
fatal circumstances he was led to tarnish his glory. Madame Bonaparte
had given to him in marriage Mademoiselle Hulot, her friend, and, like
herself, a native of the Isle of France. This young lady, gentle,
amiable, and possessing those qualities which make a good wife and
mother, loved her husband passionately, and was proud of that glorious
name which surrounded her with respect and honor; but, unfortunately, she
had the greatest deference for her mother, whose ambition was great, and
who desired nothing short of seeing her daughter seated upon a throne.
The influence which she exercised over Madame Moreau soon extended to the
general himself, who, ruled by her counsels, became gloomy, thoughtful,
melancholy, and forever lost that tranquillity of mind which had
distinguished him. From that time the general's house was open to
intrigues and conspiracies; and it was the rendezvous of all the
discontented, of which there were many. The general assumed the task of