In the first group they talked of fashions, music, the theatre; in the second, literature, science, dramatic art; in the third, they talked of everything except that which was uppermost in their minds. Doubtless this reserve was not in keeping with Bonaparte’s own feeling at the moment; for after sharing in this commonplace conversation for a short time, he took the former bishop of Autun by the arm and led him into the embrasure of the window. “Well?” he asked. Talleyrand looked at Bonaparte with that air which belonged to no one but him. “What did I tell you of Sièyes, general?” “You told me to secure the support of those who regarded the friends of the Republic as Jacobins, and to rely, upon it that Sièyes was at their head.” “I was not mistaken.” “Then he will yield?” “Better, he has yielded.” “The man who wanted to shoot me at Fréjus for having landed without being quarantined!” “Oh, no; not for that.” “But what then?” “For not having looked at him or spoken to him at Gohier’s dinner.” “I must confess that I did it on purpose. I cannot endure that unfrocked monk.” Bonaparte perceived, too late, that the speech he had just made was like the sword of the archangel, double-edged; if Sièyes was unfrocked, Talleyrand was unmitred. He cast a rapid glance at his companion’s face; the ex-bishop of Autun was smiling his sweetest smile. “Then I can count upon him?” “I will answer for him.” “And Cambacérès and Lebrun, have you seen them?” “I took Sièyes in hand as the most recalcitrant. Bruix saw the other two.” The admiral, from the midst of the group, had never taken his eyes off of the general and the diplomatist. He suspected that their conversation had a special importance. Bonaparte made him a sign to join them. A less able man would have done so at once, but Bruix avoided such a mistake. He walked about the room with affected indifference, and then, as if he had just perceived Talleyrand and Bonaparte talking together, he went up to them. “Bruix is a very able man!” said Bonaparte, who judged men as much by little as by great things. “And above all very cautious, general!” said Talleyrand. “Yes. We will need a corkscrew to pull anything out of him.” “Oh, no; on the contrary, now that he has joined us, he, will broach the question frankly.” And, indeed, no sooner had Bruix joined them than he began in words as clear as they were concise: “I have seen them; they waver!” “They waver! Cambacérès and Lebrun waver? Lebrun I can understand--a sort of man of letters, a moderate, a Puritan; but Cambacérès--” “But it is so.” “But didn’t you tell them that I intended to make them each a consul?” “I didn’t get as far as that,” replied Bruix, laughing. “And why not?” inquired Bonaparte. “Because this is the first word you have told me about your intentions, Citizen General.” “True,” said Bonaparte, biting his lips. “Am I to repair the omission?” asked Bruix.