He was about twenty-three or four, with an olive complexion, somewhat lighter at the temples and forehead. His straight black hair was parted in the middle and fell down below his ears. His eagle eye, straight nose and strong chin and lower jaw, increasing in size as it approached his ears, left no doubt as to the trend of his abilities. He was a man of war, belonging to the race of conquerors. Seen thus, and lighted in this way, his face looked like a bronze medallion. He was so thin that all the bones in his face were plainly discernible. CHAPTER XVIII CITIZEN BONAPARTE Barras closed the door and stepped within the circle of light cast by the lamp. Then only did the young man recognize him. "Ah! is it you, citizen Barras?" he asked without rising. Barras shook himself, for he was drenched, and tossed his dripping hat upon a chair. The young man continued to watch him attentively. "Yes, it is I, citizen Bonaparte," said he. "What wind has blown you to the poor soldier's cell at this hour. A mistral or a sirocco?" "Mistral, my dear Bonaparte; a mistral of the most violent kind." The young man gave a dry, harsh laugh, which showed his small, sharp, white teeth. "I know something about it," he said. "I took a walk through Paris this evening." "And what is your opinion?" "It is that, as the Section Le Peletier intimated to the Convention, the storm will burst to-morrow." "And what were you doing in the meantime?" The young man rose, and pointing with his index finger to the map on the table, he said: "As you see, I was amusing myself by planning what I would do if I, instead of that imbecile Menou, were general of the interior, in order to put an end to all these talkers." "And what would you do?" "I would try to secure a dozen cannon which would talk louder than they." "Did you not tell me one day at Toulon that you had witnessed the rising of the 20th of June from the terrace beside the ornamental waters?" The young man shrugged his shoulders contemptuously. "Yes," he said, "I saw your poor King Louis XVI. put on the red cap, which did not prevent his head from falling, and which only disgraced it. And I even said to Bourrienne, who was with me that day, 'How could they admit that rabble to the château? They should have swept four or five hundred out with cannon, the rest would have run out of themselves.'" "Unfortunately," resumed Barras, "to-day there are five thousand instead of five hundred to be swept out." The young man smiled carelessly. "A difference of number, that is all," he replied; "but what ultimate difference, so long as the result is the same? The rest is a mere matter of detail." "So much so that you were defeating the insurgents when I came in?" "I was making the endeavor." "And you had your plan laid out?" "Yes." "What is it?" "That depends. How many soldiers can you call upon?" "Five or six thousand, including the Holy Battalion of Patriots."