The Companions of Jehu by Alexandre Dumas (red scrolls of magic .txt) 📕

“Where are you going?”

“In your character of Spartan you are a rigid observer of the laws, are you not? Well, here is a decree issued by the Council of Five Hundred last night, which confers upon me the immediate command of the troops in Paris. So I was right,” he added, “when I told you that the soldiers you met were mine, inasmuch as they are under my orders.”

And he placed in Bernadotte’s hands the copy of the decree which had been sent to him at six o’clock that morning. Bernadotte read it through from the first line to the last.

“To this,” said he, “I have nothing to object. Secure the safety of the National Legislature, and all good citizens will be with you.”

“Then be with me now.”

“Permit me, general, to wait twenty-four hours to see how you fulfil that mandate.”

“Devil of a man!” cried Bonaparte. “Have your own way.” Then, taking him by the arm, he dragged him a few steps apart from Joseph, and continued, “Bernadotte, I want to play above-board with you.”

“Why so,” retorted the latter, “since I am not on your side?”

“Never mind. You are watching the game, and I want the lookers-on to see that I am not cheating.”

“Do you bind me to secrecy?”

“No.”

“That is well, for in that case I should have refused to listen to your confidences.”

“Oh! my confidences are not long! Your Directory is detested, your Constitution is worn-out; you must make a clean sweep of both, and turn the government in another direction. You don’t answer me.”

“I am waiting to hear what you have to say.”

“All I have to say is, Go put on your uniform. I can’t wait any longer for you. Join me at the Tuileries among our comrades.”

Bernadotte shook his head.

“You think you can count on Moreau, Beurnonville, and Lefebvre,” resumed Bonaparte. “Just look out of that window. Who do you see there, and there? Moreau and Beurnonville. As for Lefebvre, I do not see him, but I am certain I shall not go a hundred steps before meeting him. Now will you decide?”

“General,” replied Bernadotte, “I am not a man to be swayed by example, least of all when that example is bad. Moreau, Beurnonville, and Lefebvre may do as they wish. I shall do as I ought!”

“So you definitively refuse to accompany me to the Tuileries?”

“I do not wish to take part in a rebellion.”

“A rebellion! A rebellion! Against whom? Against a parcel of imbeciles who are pettifogging from morning till night in their hovels.”

“These imbeciles, general, are for the moment the representatives of the law. The Constitution protects them; they are sacred to me.”

“At least promise me one thing, iron rod that you are.”

“What is it?”

“To keep quiet.”

“I will keep quiet as a citizen, but—”

“But what? Come, I made a clean breast of it to you; do you do likewise.”

“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.”