The young man drew a paper from his pocket containing two lines, not signed, in the same handwriting as that which Bourrienne had before him. These two lines said: “‘Start. Be in Paris 16th Brumaire. I need you.” “Yes,” said Bourrienne, “I think it will be on the eighteenth.” “What will be on the eighteenth?” “On my word, Roland, you ask more than I know. That man, as you are aware, is not communicative. What will take place on the 18th Brumaire? I don’t know as yet; but I’ll answer for it that something will happen.” “Oh! you must have a suspicion!” “I think he means to make himself Director in place of Sièyes, or perhaps president in Gohier’s stead.” “Good! How about the Constitution of the year III.?” “The Constitution of the year III. What about that?” “Why, yes, a man must be forty years old to be a Director; and the general lacks just ten of them.” “The deuce! so much the worse for the Constitution. They must violate it.” “It is rather young yet, Bourrienne; they don’t, as a rule, violate children of seven.” “My dear fellow, in Barras’ hands everything grows old rapidly. The little girl of seven is already an old prostitute.” Roland shook his head. “Well, what is it?” asked Bourrienne. “Why, I don’t believe the general will make himself a simple Director with four colleagues. Just imagine it--five kings of France! It wouldn’t be a Directory any longer, but a four-in-hand.” “Anyway, up to the present, that is all he has allowed any one to perceive; but you know, my dear friend, if we want to know the general’s secrets we must guess them.” “Faith! I’m too lazy to take the trouble, Bourrienne. Besides, I’m a regular Janissary--what is to be, will be. Why the devil should I bother to form an opinion and battle for it. It’s quite wearisome enough to have to live.” And the young man enforced his favorite aphorism with a long yawn; then he added: “Do you think there will be any sword play?” “Probably.” “Then there will be a chance of getting killed; that’s all I want. Where is the general?” “With Madame Bonaparte. He went to her about fifteen minutes ago. Have you let him know you are here?” “No, I wanted to see you first. But I hear his step now.” Just then the door was opened abruptly, and the same historical personage whom we saw playing a silent part incognito at Avignon appeared on the threshold, in the picturesque uniform of the general-in-chief of the army of Egypt, except that, being in his own house, he was bare-headed. Roland thought his eyes were more hollow and his skin more leaden than usual. But the moment he saw the young man, Bonaparte’s gloomy, or rather meditative, eye emitted a flash of joy. “Ah, here you are, Roland!” he said. “True as steel! Called, you come. Welcome, my dear fellow.” And he offered Roland his hand. Then he asked, with an imperceptible smile, “What were you doing with Bourrienne?” “Waiting for you, general.” “And in the meantime gossiping like two old women.”