“But if the Directory orders me to act, I shall march against the agitators, whoever they may be.” “Ah! So you think I am ambitious?” asked Bonaparte. “I suspect as much,” retorted Bernadotte, smiling. “Faith,” said Bonaparte, “you don’t know me. I have had enough of politics, and what I want is peace. Ah, my dear fellow! Malmaison and fifty thousand a year, and I’d willingly resign all the rest. You don’t believe me. Well, I invite you to come and see me there, three months hence, and if you like pastorals, we’ll do one together. Now, au revoir! I leave you with Joseph, and, in spite of your refusal, I shall expect you at the Tuileries. Hark! Our friends are becoming impatient.” They were shouting: “Vive Bonaparte!” Bernadotte paled slightly. Bonaparte noticed this pallor. “Ah, ha,” he muttered. “Jealous! I was mistaken; he is not a Spartan, he is an Athenian!” As Bonaparte had said, his friends were growing impatient. During the hour that had elapsed since the decree had been posted, the salon, the 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 Cæsar, 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.