poor d'O—— of my political barometer, received, as a kind attention from Fouché, an "invitation" to retire to M—— and remain there until further orders. That only made me set off the faster towards Trieste, and as straight as I could go. I never looked behind me till I had passed
the frontier of my native land, where, under the rule of the benign Bonaparte, no one was ever sure of sleeping in his bed at night.
The word "prison" had always made me prick up my ears like a hare, and I was singularly well-instructed in the topography of France, as regards the dungeons. I wished that the angels could have carried the diligence, as they did the house of the Virgin from Capernaum to Loretto, for I felt quite a nightmare when I saw on my left the castle of Joux, where M. de Suzannet then was, and, as we skirted the Doubs, the citadel of Besangon above my head to the left. I breathed more freely when, entering Lyon by the faubourg of Vaise, I noticed that Pierre-en-Cize was pulled down, and nobody else could be put there.
