The President, with great calmness, told him that he saw nothing, absolutely nothing, upon which the Council could deliberate; that there was vagueness in all he had said.  “Explain yourself; reveal the plot which you say you were urged to join.”

Bonaparte repeated again the same things.  But only those who were present can form any idea of his manner.  There was not the slightest connection in what he stammered out.  Bonaparte was then no orator.  It may well be supposed that he was more accustomed to the din of war than to the discussions of the tribunes.  He was more at home before a battery than before a President’s chair.

Perceiving the bad effect which this unconnected babbling produced on the assembly, as well as the embarrassment of Bonaparte, I said, in a low voice, pulling him gently by the skirt of his coat, “withdraw, General; you know not what you are saying.”  I made signs to Berthier, who was on his left, to second me in persuading him to leave the hall; and all at once, after having stammered out a few more, words, he turned round exclaiming, “Let those who love me follow me!” The sentinels at the door offered no opposition to his passing.  The person who went before him quietly drew aside the tapestry which concealed the door, and General Bonaparte leaped upon his horse, which stood in the court-yard.  It is hard to say what would have happened if, on seeing the General retire, the President had said, “Grenadiers, let no one pass!” Instead of sleeping next day at the Luxembourg he would, I am convinced, have ended his career on the Place de la Revolution.

CHAPTER XXV.

1799.

The two Councils—­Barras’ letter—­Bonaparte at the Council of the Five Hundred—­False reports—­Tumultuous sitting—­Lucien’s speech—­ He resigns the Presidency of the Council of the Five Hundred—­He is carried out by grenadiers—­He harangues the troops—­A dramatic scene —­Murat and his soldiers drive out the Five Hundred—­Council of Thirty—­Consular commission—­Decree—­Return to Paris—­Conversation with Bonaparte and Josephine respecting Gohier and Bernadotte—­The directors Gohier and Moulins imprisoned.

The scene which occurred at the sitting of the Council of the Ancients was very different from that which passed outside.  Bonaparte had scarcely reached the courtyard and mounted his horse when cries of “Vive Bonaparte!” resounded on all sides.  But this was only a sunbeam between two storms.  He had yet to brave the Council of the Five Hundred, which was far more excited than the Council of the Ancients.  Everything tended to create a dreadful uncertainty; but it was too late to draw back.  We had already staked too heavily.  The game was desperate, and everything was to be ventured.  In a few hours all would be determined.