unmerited
fate. But the declaration of war was a novelty which must have deeply
interested him; for what was Paoli now to do? From gratitude to
England he had repeatedly and earnestly declared that he could never
take up arms against her. He was already a lieutenant-general in the
service of her enemy, his division was assigned to the feeble and
disorganized Army of Italy, which was nominally being equipped for
active service, and the leadership, so ran the news received at
Ajaccio, had been conferred on the Corsican director. The fact was
that the radicals of the Convention had long been aware of the old
patriot's devotion to constitutional monarchy, and now saw their way
to be rid of so dangerous a foe. Three successive commanders of that
army had already found disgrace in their attempts with inadequate
means to dislodge the Sardinian troops from the mountain passes of the
Maritime Alps. Mindful, therefore, of their fate, and of his
obligations to England, Paoli firmly refused the proffered honor.
Suspicion as to the existence of an English party in the island had
early been awakened among the members of the Mountain; for half the
Corsican delegation to the Convention had opposed the sentence passed
on the King, and Salicetti was the only member who voted in the
affirmative. When the ill-starred Sardinian expedition reached Toulon,
the blame of failure was laid by the Jacobins on Paoli's shoulders.

Salicetti, who was now a real power among the leaders at Paris, felt
that he must hasten to his department in order to forestall events, if
possible, and keep together the remnants of sympathy with France; he
was appointed one of a commission to enforce in the island the decrees
of the Convention. The commission was well received and the feeling
against France was being rapidly allayed when, most unexpectedly,
fatal news arrived from Paris. In the preceding November Lucien
Buonaparte had made the acquaintance in Ajaccio of Huguet de
Semonville, who was on his way to Constantinople as a special envoy of
the provisory council then in charge of the Paris administration. In
all probability he was sent to test Paoli's attitude. Versatile and
insinuating, he displayed great activity among the islanders. On one
occasion he addressed the radical club of Ajaccio--but though
eloquent, he was no linguist, and his French rhetoric would have
fallen flat but for the fervid zeal of Lucien, who at the close stood
in his place and rendere