here is still time."

Then, seating himself in Bourrienne's chair, he wrote a few words in
the form of a note, sealed it, and wrote the address: "To the Citizen
Barras."

"Roland," said he, when he had finished, "take a horse out of the
stable, or a carriage in the street, and go to Barras' house. I have
asked him for an interview tomorrow at midnight. I want an answer."

Roland left the room. A moment later the gallop of a horse resounded
through the courtyard, disappearing in the direction of the Rue du
Mont-Blanc.

"Now, Bourrienne," said Bonaparte, after listening to the sound,
"to-morrow at midnight, whether I am in the house or not, you will take
my carriage and go in my stead to Barras."

"In your stead, general?"

"Yes. He will do nothing all day, expecting me to accept him on my side
at night. At midnight you will go to him, and say that I have such a bad
headache I have had to go to bed, but that I will be with him at seven
o'clock in the morning without fail. He will believe you, or he won't
believe you; but at any rate it will be too late for him to act against
us. By seven in the morning I shall have ten thousand men under my
command."

"Very good, general. Have you any other orders for me?"

"No, not this evening," replied Bonaparte. "Be here early to-morrow."

"And I?" asked Lucien.

"See Sieyes; he has the Ancients in the hollow of his hand. Make all
your arrangements with him. I don't wish him to be seen here, nor to
be seen myself at his house. If by any chance we fail, he is a man to
repudiate. After tomorrow I wish to be master of my own actions, and to
have no ties with any one."

"Do you think you will need me to-morrow?"

"Come back at night and report what happens."

"Are you going back to the salon?"

"No. I shall wait for Josephine in her own room. Bourrienne, tell her,
as you pass through, to get rid of the people as soon as possible."

Then, saluting Bourrienne and his brother with a wave of the hand, he
left his study by a private corridor, and went to Josephine's room.
There, lighted by a single alabaster lamp, which made the conspirator's
brow seem paler than ever, Bonaparte listened to the noise of the
carriages, as one after the other they rolled away. At last the sounds
ceased, and five minutes later the door opened to admit Josephine.

She was alone, and held a double-branched candlestick in her hand. Her
face, lighted by the double flame, expressed the keenest anxi