“That very night I wrote a letter to the First Consul. I knew the ardent
desire he possessed to attach to Josephine's suite such members of the
old aristocracy as could be induced to join it. He had more than
once hinted to me that the fame of my sister's beauty had reached
the Tuileries; that with such pretensions as hers, the seclusion of a
château in Provence was ill suited to her. I stated at once my wish
that she might be received as one of the Ladies of the Court, avowing
my intention to afford her any sum that might be deemed suitable to
maintain her in so exalted a sphere. This, you are not aware, is the
mode by which the members of a family express to the consul that they
surrender all right and guardianship in the individual given, tendering
to him full power to dispose of her in marriage, exactly as though he
were her own father.
“Before day broke my letter was on its way to Paris; in less than a week
came the answer, accepting my proposal in the most flattering terms,
and commanding me to repair to the Tuileries with my sister, and take
command of a regiment d' elite then preparing for service.
“I may not dwell on the scene that followed; the very memory of it is
too much for my weak and failing spirits. Claude flung himself at my
feet, and confessed his love. He declared his willingness to submit to
any or everything I should dictate: he would join the army; he would
volunteer for Egypt. Poor fellow! his trembling accents and bloodless
lip comported ill with the heroism of his words. Only promise that in
the end Marie should be his, and there was no danger he would not dare,
no course in life, however unsuited to him, he would not follow at my
bidding. I know not whether my heart could have withstood such an appeal
as this, had I been free to act; but now the die was cast. I handed
him the First Consul's letter. He opened it with a hand trembling like
palsy, and read it over; he leaned his head against the chimney when he
finished, and gave me back the letter without a word. I could not bear
to look on him, and left the room.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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