anterooms, and the courtyard had been crowded. The first person
Bonaparte met at the head of the staircase was his compatriot, Colonel
Sebastiani, then commanding the 9th Dragoons.

"Ah! is that you, Sebastiani?" said Bonaparte. "Where are your men?"

"In line along the Rue de la Victoire, general."

"Well disposed?"

"Enthusiastic! I distributed among them ten thousand cartridges which I
had in store."

"Yes; but you had no right to draw those cartridges out without an order
from the commandant of Paris. Do you know that you have burned your
vessels, Sebastiani?"

"Then take me into yours, general. I have faith in your fortunes."

"You mistake me for Caesar, Sebastiani!"

"Faith! I might make worse mistakes. Besides, down below in the
courtyard there are forty officers or more, of all classes, without pay,
whom the Directory has left in the most complete destitution for the
last year. You are their only hope, general; they are ready to die for
you."

"That's right. Go to your regiment, and take leave of it."

"Take leave of it? What do you mean, general?"

"I exchange it for a brigade. Go, go!"

Sebastiani did not wait to be told twice. Bonaparte continued his way.
At the foot of the stairs he met Lefebvre.

"Here I am, general!" said Lefebvre.

"You? And where is the 17th military division?"

"I am waiting for my appointment to bring it into action."

"Haven't you received your appointment?"

"From the Directory, yes. But as I am not a traitor, I have just sent in
my resignation, so that they may know I am not to be counted on."

"And you have come for me to appoint you, so that I may count on you, is
that it?"

"Exactly."

"Quick, Roland, a blank commission; fill in the general's name, so that
I shall only have to put my name to it. I'll sign it on the pommel of my
saddle."

"That's the true sort," said Lefebvre.

"Roland."

The young man, who had already started obediently, came back to the
general.

"Fetch me that pair of double-barrelled pistols on my mantel-piece at
the same time," said Bonaparte, in a low tone. "One never knows what may
happen."

"Yes, general," said Roland; "besides, I shan't leave you."

"Unless I send you to be killed elsewhere."

"True," replied the young man, hastening away to fulfil his double
errand.

Bonaparte was continuing on his way when he noticed a shadow in the
corridor. He recognized Josephine, and ran to her.

"Good God!" cried she, "is the