Barras, in his letter, said that “he had undertaken his office solely for the purpose of serving the cause of liberty, and that now, seeing the destinies of the Republic in the hands of her young and invincible general, he gladly resigned it.”  By this courtly acquiescence he purchased indemnity for the past, and the liberty of retiring to his country-seat, there to enjoy the vast fortune he had so scandalously accumulated.  The other two remained for the present under surveillance.

At ten o’clock on the same morning, the adverse Council of Five Hundred assembled also, and heard, with astonishment and indignation, of the decree by which their sittings were transferred from Paris (the scene of their popular influence) to St. Cloud.  They had, however, no means of disputing that point:  they parted with cries of “Vive la Republique!  Vive la Constitution!” and incited the mob, their allies, to muster next morning on the new scene of action—­where, it was evident, this military revolution must either be turned back, or pushed to consummation.  During the rest of the day, Napoleon remained at the Tuileries:  the troops were in arms; the population expected with breathless anxiety the coming of the decisive day.  A strong body of soldiery marched to St. Cloud under the orders of Murat.

The members of both assemblies repaired thither early in the morning of the 19th; and those of the opposite party beheld with dismay the military investment of the Chateau.  Scattered in groups about the courts and gardens, surrounded with the mob from the city, and watched by Murat and his stern veterans, they awaited with impatience the opening of the doors; which, in consequence of some necessary preparations, did not occur until two o’clock in the afternoon.

The Council of Ancients were ushered into the Gallery of Mars, and, the minority having by this time recovered from their surprise, a stormy debate forthwith commenced touching the events of the preceding day.  Buonaparte entered the room, and, by permission of the subservient president, addressed the assembly.  “Citizens,” said he, “you stand over a volcano.  Let a soldier tell the truth frankly.  I was quiet in my home when this council summoned me to action.  I obeyed:  I collected my brave comrades, and placed the arms of my country at the service of you who are its head.  We are repaid with calumnies—­they talk of Cromwell—­of Caesar.  Had I aspired at power the opportunity was mine ere now.  I swear that France holds no more devoted patriot.  Dangers surround us.  Let us not hazard the advantages for which we have paid so dearly—­Liberty and Equality!—­”

A democratic member, Linglet, added aloud—­“and the Constitution—­”