When arranging for an exchange of prisoners Sir Sidney Smith took the opportunity to send a little packet of newspapers containing news of vital importance to the French commander. He read of French reverses, of the great armies of the Second Coalition coming into being against the Republic, of despair and discontent in official and public circles. Indeed, the Directory had gone so far as to negotiate for Napoleon’s return, so inextricable was the muddle they were in, but the General did not hear of this until later. He determined upon a policy which has been discussed in and out of season by historians for over a century; he would go back to France. Modern philosophers would have us believe that his decision was “perfectly justifiable on political grounds,” but many Frenchmen at the time thought otherwise. To them it seemed a flagrant injustice to the army he commanded. “Bonaparte had fled from Egypt, as he fled from Russia and from Waterloo,” says Baron de Frénilly. “A general does not flee--he retreats. But Bonaparte was ever the general of Fortune, and every time that she abandoned him he fled like a soldier, leaving the others to get out of the difficulty as best they could. This man, then, crept out of Egypt by night, glided between the English frigates and entered Paris. There he had to stoop and take what he wanted. France--after passing, during eight years, from the anarchy of revolutionaries to the anarchy of political comedians--was eager for the despotism of a single man.” There is much truth in the Baron’s irony. For Napoleon the Orient had lost much of its charms; his political horizon was bounded again by the west solely because he had an eye for the main chance. His thoughts frequently wandered to the east at later periods of his career, the appeal becoming at times almost irresistible, so completely had the spell enchanted him. For the time being, however, it had lost its hold.