One afternoon, Cabarrus invited me to spend an hour with him in the afternoon, and I put in my appearance punctual to the time appointed.
"Barras will die to-day," he said to me; "would you like to see him for the last time before his death?"
"Certainly," I replied; for I was anxious to be able to say later to people, who had only known him by name, "I saw Barras on the day of his death."
"Very well, come with me: I am going literally for the purpose of saying good-bye to him."
We got into a carriage and went to Chaillot. We found Courtand looking very melancholy, and, when Cabarrus asked him how his master was, he only shook his head. He showed Cabarrus into the room of the dying man all the same, and, as I was with Cabarrus, let me go in too. We expected to find Barras sad and pale and weak and depressed, but he was merry and smiling and almost rosy-looking, though this colour was but the flush of fever. We began by apologising for my presence: I had met Cabarrus in the Champs-Élysées and, learning that he was going to inquire after Barras, I wished to accompany him. Barras made me a little friendly inclination with his head to indicate that I was welcome.
"But," Cabarrus exclaimed, "what did that pessimist of a Courtand tell me, general? He made out that you were worse; on the contrary, you look ever so much better!"
"Ah yes!" said Barras, "because you find me alone and cheerful ... that does not alter the fact that I shall be dead to-night, my dear Cabarrus! Do you hear that, Dumas? I am like Leonidas and shall sup to-night with Pluto! I shall be able to tell your father, who would be happy enough to see you, that I have seen you to-day."
"But what were you laughing at when we came in?" Cabarrus inquired, trying to turn the conversation from talk of death to matters of life.
"What made me laugh?" Barras replied. "I will tell you. Because I have just played a capital trick on our rulers.... As I have been a man of power, they have had their eyes on me; they know I am dying, and they have been watching for the moment of my death to seize hold of my papers. I have therefore, since the morning, been busy attaching my seal to these thirty or forty boxes. After my death, they will be seized; but I have given directions for counsel to be called in and the matter will be publicly tried before a court of justice.... This may last for four or six months or a year ... after which my heirs will lose, my papers being State property. They will then solemnly open these forty boxes which you see there, before a council of ministers ... and, instead of the precious papers, which are in a place of safety, do you know what they will find?"