“The word ‘immediate,’” replied Bourrienne. “You can’t say ‘transmitted immediate’; it ought to be ‘immediately.’” “It’s not worth while,” said Bonaparte. “I shall act, you may be sure, as if it were ‘immediately.’” Then, after an instant’s reflection, he added: “As to what you said just now about their not being willing to pass it, there’s a very simple way to get it passed.” “What is that.” “To convoke the members of whom we are sure at six o’clock in the morning, and those of whom we are not sure at eight. Having only our own men, it will be devilishly hard to lose the majority.” “But six o’clock for some, and eight for the others--” objected Lucien. “Employ two secretaries; one of them can make a mistake.” Then turning to Lucien, he said: “Write this.” And walking up and down, he dictated without hesitating, like a man who has long thought over and carefully prepared what he dictates; stopping occasionally beside Bourrienne to see if the secretary’s pen were following his every word: CITIZENS--The Council of the Ancients, the trustee of the nation’s wisdom, has issued the subjoined decree: it is authorized by articles 102 and 103 of the Constitution. This decree enjoins me to take measures for the safety of the National Legislature, and its necessary and momentary removal. Bourrienne looked at Bonaparte; _instantaneous_ was the word the latter had intended to use, but as the general did not correct himself, Bourrienne left _momentary_. Bonaparte continued to dictate: The Legislature will find means to avoid the imminent danger into which the disorganization of all parts of the administration has brought us. But it needs, at this crisis, the united support and confidence of patriots. Rally around it; it offers the only means of establishing the Republic on the bases of civil liberty, internal prosperity, victory and peace. Bonaparte perused this proclamation, and nodded his head in sign of approval. Then he looked at his watch. “Eleven o’clock,” he said; “there 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?”