Bonaparte was singing that mysterious tune of which we have spoken; which showed that he was furious. So, as Roland might be expected to bring him fresh information, he had called him three times to come in. “Well,” said he, “your part of the country is certainly in revolt against me; just look at that.” Roland glanced at the papers and understood at once. “Exactly what I came to speak to you about, general,” said he. “Then begin at once; but first go ask Bourrienne for my department atlas.” Roland fetched the atlas, and, guessing what Bonaparte desired to look at, opened it at the department of the Ain. “That’s it,” said Bonaparte; “show me where these affairs happened.” Roland laid his finger on the edge of the map, in the neighborhood of Lyons. “There, general, that’s the exact place of the first attack, near the village of Bellignieux.” “And the second?” “Here,” said Roland, pointing to the other side of the department, toward Geneva; “there’s the lake of Nantua, and here’s that of Silans.” “Now the third?” Roland laid his finger on the centre of the map. “General, there’s the exact spot. Les Carronnières are not marked on the map because of their slight importance.” “What are Les Carronnières?” asked the First Consul. “General, in our part of the country the manufactories of tiles are called _carronnières_; they belong to citizen Terrier. That’s the place they ought to be on the map.” And Roland made a pencil mark on the paper to show the exact spot where the stoppage occurred. “What!” exclaimed Bonaparte; “why, it happened less than a mile and a half from Bourg!” “Scarcely that, general; that explains why the wounded horse was taken back to Bourg and died in the stables of the Belle-Alliance.” “Do you hear all these details, sir!” said Bonaparte, addressing the minister of police. “Yes, citizen First Consul,” answered the latter. “You know I want this brigandage to stop?” “I shall use every effort--” “It’s not a question of your efforts, but of its being done.” The minister bowed. “It is only on that condition,” said Bonaparte, “that I shall admit you are the able man you claim to be.” “I’ll help you, citizen,” said Roland. “I did not venture to ask for your assistance,” said the minister. “Yes, but I offer it; don’t do anything that we have not planned together.” The minister looked at Bonaparte. “Quite right,” said Bonaparte; “you can go. Roland will follow you to the ministry.” Fouché bowed and left the room. “Now,” continued the First Consul, “your honor depends upon your exterminating these bandits, Roland. In the first place, the thing is being carried on in your department; and next, they seem to have some particular grudge against you and your family.” “On the contrary,” said Roland, “that’s what makes me so furious; they spare me and my family.” “Let’s go over it again, Roland. Every detail is of importance; it’s a war of Bedouins over again.”