“Well, I have changed my mind; I shall send him an answer. These Bourbons are so blind that this one would misinterpret my silence.”
And Bonaparte, sitting down at his desk, wrote the following letter with a care that showed he wished to make it legible:
I have received your letter, monsieur. I thank you for the good
opinion you express in it of me. You must not wish for your return
to France; it could only be over a hundred thousand dead bodies.
Sacrifice your own interests to the repose and welfare of France.
History will applaud you. I am not insensible to the misfortunes of
your family, and I shall hear with pleasure that you are
surrounded with all that could contribute to the tranquillity of
your retreat. BONAPARTE.
Then, folding and sealing the letter, he directed it to “Monsieur le Comte de Provençe,” and handed it to Morgan. Then he called Roland, as if he knew the latter were not far off.
“General?” said the young officer, appearing instantly.
“Conduct this gentleman to the street,” said Bonaparte. “Until then you are responsible for him.”
Roland bowed in sign of obedience, let the young man, who said not a word, pass before him, and then followed. But before leaving, Morgan cast a last glance at Bonaparte.
The latter was still standing, motionless and silent, with folded arms, his eyes fixed upon the dagger, which occupied his thoughts far more than he was willing to admit even to himself.
As they crossed Roland’s room, the Chief of the Companions of Jehu gathered up his cloak and pistols. While he was putting them in his belt, Roland remarked: “The citizen First Consul seems to have shown you a dagger which I gave him.”
“Yes, monsieur,” replied Morgan.