But then the door was opened by a mulatto woman wearing a bright red headcloth. She stared at him with narrowed eyes.

‘Sir?’

‘Is Madame Beauharnais at home?’

‘She is.’ The woman’s voice had a peculiar sing-song lilt to it that Napoleon could not place.‘Who may I say is calling for her?’

‘General Bonaparte.’ Napoleon tilted his head back as he announced himself.

‘General, you say?’The woman looked at him with an amused expression. ‘Please wait in here, General, and I’ll see if Madame will receive you.’

He was ushered to a low couch in the hall, just to the side of the door. There were two more seats against the opposite wall and Napoleon realised with a sinking feeling that Josephine must be in the habit of receiving many visitors. The light slap of bare feet on the staircase at the end of the hall drew his attention and he turned to see a young girl hurrying down the stairs towards him. Josephine appeared behind her and called out, ‘Hortense! Back up here right now. I must comb your hair before you go out.’

‘But Mother, I want to see the hero!’

Josephine looked past her daughter and flushed as she saw Napoleon. ‘I’m so sorry. Please bear with me a moment.’

‘Of course.’ Napoleon could not help smiling. ‘It seems you have a mutiny to suppress.’

Josephine raised her eyes. ‘If you only knew. Now then, Hortense, back to your room.’

Her daughter took a last look at the visitor and trotted back up the stairs. Josephine took her hand firmly and nodded towards the couches. ‘Please take a seat. I’ll be with you in a moment.’

Once she had gone Napoleon waited in the hall, noting the faded curtains and worn thread of the rugs on the cracked tiles of the floor, clear signs of the declining fortunes of the Beauharnais family.At length the faint sounds of the girl’s excited chatter faded and a door closed somewhere at the back of the house. A moment later he heard footsteps descending the stairs and looked up.

Josephine was wearing a silk gown, and looked to have little on beneath it from the way it clung to the curves of her body. Her hair had been carefully pinned back. Napoleon had to swallow before he could return the greeting she called out to him.

‘So, my general has come to see me after all.’ Her lips parted in a smile. ‘I had feared we had been forgotten amid the public clamour for your attention.’

‘I promised to bring your husband’s sword, and here it is.’ He offered the sword to Josephine. Her gaze passed over the scabbard and then she tenderly lifted it and held it to her chest.

‘My thanks, General.You have no idea how much this simple blade means to me, to my family. I shall be for ever in your debt.’