lly in the name of the French people, in order to
deprive the enemy of every pretext for refusing to admit the
negotiation."

This explanation, strengthened by the hacknied support of the potent
words, our country, the public safety, foreign armies, appeared
plausible; and no more was said.

The Emperor himself, stunned by the force and rapidity of the blows,
that his enemies inflicted on him, thought no longer of defending
himself; and seemed to leave to Providence the care of watching over
him and his son. He complained: but his dissatisfaction expired on his
lips, and excited in him none of those resolutions, that might have
been expected from the fire and energy of his character.

The Duke of Otranto, however, and the deputies who had concurred with
him in pulling down Napoleon from his throne, did not look on his
residence at the Elyseum without alarm. They dreaded, lest, emboldened
by the daring counsels of Prince Lucien, by the attachment the army
retained for him, by the acclamations of the federates, and citizens
of all classes, who assembled daily under the walls of his palace, he
should attempt to renew a second 18th Brumaire. They demanded of the
chamber, therefore, by the mouth of M. Duchesne, that the _ex-Emperor_
should be desired, in the name of their country, to remove from the
capital. This demand having no effect, recourse was had to other
means. Endeavours were made to frighten him. Every day officious
advisers warned him, that attempts were making against his life: and
to give more probability to this clumsy scheme, his guard was suddenly
reinforced. Nay, one night, we were roused out of our beds by a
messenger from the commandant of Paris, General Hulin, who warned us
to be on our guard, as the Elyseum was going to be attacked, &c. But
so great was our contempt for these wretched impositions, we did not
even think it necessary, to mention it to Napoleon; and saw the return
of day, without having lost a single moment's rest. Nothing however
could have been more easy, than to carry off or assassinate Napoleon.
His palace, which ten days before could scarcely contain the bustling
crowd of ambitious men and courtiers, was now one vast solitude. All
those men, destitute of faith and honour, whom power attracts, and
adversity keeps at a distance, had deserted it. His guard had been
reduced to a few old grenadiers: and a single sentry, scarcely in
uniform, watched the gate of that Napoleon, that king o