Hurrying back to his guests, Murat divulged the news, and his cheer and excitement were so obvious that some of them guessed then the course which he would pursue. The next morning Murat despatched special messengers to Vienna and London, in which he assured the governments of Austria and Great Britain that, whatever might be the result of Napoleon’s raid, he himself would remain faithful to his treaty obligations. Neither of his correspondents had the slightest belief in his protestations, and Francis, without waiting, took steps to crush him if he moved—or if he did not. But Murat’s health was high and the memories of the golden years were like wine. He felt a real remorse for the part which he had played, and the splendour of Napoleon’s lone-handed assault upon a world in arms appealed to every soldier-like instinct in him. He did not forget his own ambition, though, and he desired to make himself so powerful that he could treat with either Austria or France upon terms of something like equality. It was Italy that he wanted. The great Powers would have their hands full now, and he hoped to be able to surprise the Germans while the armies of Europe were engaged with the Emperor. Caroline, however, joined with his ministers and his Council in opposition to war. Naples and Italy had had enough, and even in the unlikely event of Murat’s correspondents in the North having been accurate in their figures, or right in their appreciation of the popular feeling, it was practically certain that, whether the victor in the coming contest were to be the Emperor or the Allies, neither would allow Murat to attack Italy and rule it undisturbed.