I feared the man: I suspected him to be on the espionnage establishment, and therefore told him to say no more to me about the war, and that I wished much to be in England.
About nine on Wednesday morning, as soon as I rose, Thevenot again informed me, with a countenance which gave no indication of his own sentiments, that the French were totally defeated; that the emperor had returned to Paris; and that the English were in full march to the capital.
I always dreaded lest the language of my servant might in some way implicate me, and I now chid him for telling me so great a falsehood.
“It is true,” returned he.
Still I could not believe it; and I gave him notice, on the spot, to quit my service. He received this intimation with much seeming indifference, and his whole deportment impressed me with suspicion. I went immediately, therefore, to Messrs. Lafitte, my bankers, and the first person I saw was my friend, Mr. Phillips, very busily employed at his desk in the outside room.
“Do you know, Phillips,” said I, “that I have been obliged to turn off my servant for spreading a report that the French are beaten and the emperor returned?”
Phillips, without withdrawing his eyes from what he was engaged on, calmly and concisely replied, “It is true enough.”
“Impossible!” exclaimed I.
“Quite possible,” returned this man of few words, still without looking off his account book.
“Where is Napoleon?” said I.