“Burke, sir; sous-lieutenant—”
“Of the Eighth Hussars,” continued he. “I know the rest, sir. Every conspiracy is made up of knaves and fools; you figured in the latter capacity. Mark me, sir, your name is yet to make; the time is approaching when you may have the opportunity. Still, General d' Auvergne, it is not in the ranks of a Chouan plot I should have gone to select my staff.”
“Pardon me, sir; but this young man's devotion to you—”
“Is on record. General; I have seen it in Mehée de la Touche's own writing,” added Bonaparte, with a sneer. “Give me the fidelity, sir, that has no tarnish,—like your own, D'Auvergne. Go, sir,” said he, turning to me, while he waved his hand towards the door; “it will need all your bravery and all your heroism to make me acquit General d'Auvergne of an act of folly.”
I hung my head in shame, and with a low reverence and a tottering step moved from the room and closed the door behind me.
I had just reached the street when the general overtook me.
“Come, come, Burke,” said he; “you must not mind this. I heard Lannes receive a heavier reproof because he only carried away three guns of an Austrian battery when there were four in all.”
“Bonaparte never forgets, sir,” muttered I, between my teeth, as the well-remembered phrase crossed my mind.