‘A message from Prime Minister Addington, on behalf of His Majesty. He considers that the presence of so large an army on the coast directly opposite Britain constitutes a direct threat.The Prime Minister therefore requires that the army is to disband. Failure to accede to this request will be considered a hostile act.’

Napoleon took the sealed letter and laid it on his desk before he replied. ‘Might I ask how France is to interpret His Majesty’s rapid enlargement of the Royal Navy? It seems that a new ship of the line appears off our coasts almost every day. If I disband my army, will he disband his ships?’

Lord Whitworth ignored the question and gestured towards the letter. ‘I am instructed to wait until the eighth of May for your response. If you refuse to comply, then I am to leave Paris and return to London.’

Napoleon felt his heart quicken. ‘Then you will declare war on France.’

‘I did not say that, sir.’Whitworth drew himself up so that he looked down on Napoleon as imperiously as possible.‘As all men know, England desires nothing more than peace.’

Napoleon felt some last measure of restraint snap inside him as he stared back at the haughty English aristocrat. He slammed his fist down, making the letter jump. ‘Respect the treaty then! Leave Malta at once!’

For a moment, they glared at each other.Then the ambassador bowed his head and backed a few steps away.‘I shall return to the embassy. I will await your reply. Until the eighth.’

Once he had gone,Talleyrand turned to Napoleon and asked, ‘Will you disband the army?’

‘No.’>

‘Then it’s war.’

‘So it seems,’ Napoleon replied evenly. ‘Though we shall give England the ignominy of declaring it.’

‘Do you think they will?’

‘I am certain of it.’

‘Then God help us all.’

Lord Whitworth waited in Paris until the appointed day and then, having received no response from Napoleon, left Paris with his meagre household in a small convoy of carriages. Four days later he boarded a ship at Calais and set sail for England. In Parliament the Tories, urged on by the revitalised fanaticism of William Pitt, proposed a motion to declare war on France.

One morning, late in May, Napoleon was at breakfast with Josephine when a footman entered the room and approached the table carrying a sealed message. Napoleon broke the wafer, unfolded the single sheet and read the hurriedly scribbled message. He set it down with a frown and stared fixedly at the window for a moment before Josephine gave a light cough.

‘What is it, my dear? That letter.’

‘Hmmm?’ Napoleon turned to her, as if he was unsure of her words for a moment. Then he glanced at the paper. ‘Oh . . . It’s from Talleyrand. He received an official dispatch from London this afternoon. The English declared war on France on the sixteenth.’