“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 Sièyes; 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 anxiety. “Well,” Bonaparte inquired, “what ails you?” “I am afraid!” said Josephine. “Of what? Those fools of the Directory, or the lawyers of the two Councils? Come, come! I have Sièyes with me in the Ancients, and Lucien in the Five Hundred.” “Then all goes well?” “Wonderfully so!” “You sent me word that you were waiting for me here, and I feared you had some bad news to tell me.” “Pooh! If I had bad news, do you think I would tell you?” “How reassuring that is!” “Well, don’t be uneasy, for I have nothing but good news. Only, I have given you a part in the conspiracy.” “What is it?” “Sit down and write to Gohier.” “That we won’t dine with him?” “On the contrary, ask him to come and breakfast with us. Between those who like each other as we do there can’t be too much intercourse.” Josephine sat down at a little rosewood writing desk “Dictate,” said she; “I will write.” “Goodness! for them to recognize my style! Nonsense; you know better than I how to write one of those charming notes there is no resisting.” Josephine smiled at the compliment, turned her forehead to Bonaparte, who kissed it lovingly, and wrote the following note, which we have copied from the original: