“Are you going back to the salon?”
“No. I shall wait for Josephine in her own room. Bourrienne, tell her, as you pass through, to get rid of the people as soon as possible.”
Then, saluting Bourrienne and his brother with a wave of the hand, he left his study by a private corridor, and went to Josephine’s room. There, lighted by a single alabaster lamp, which made the conspirator’s brow seem paler than ever, Bonaparte listened to the noise of the carriages, as one after the other they rolled away. At last the sounds ceased, and five minutes later the door opened to admit Josephine.
She was alone, and held a double-branched candlestick in her hand. Her face, lighted by the double flame, expressed the keenest anxiety.
“Well,” Bonaparte inquired, “what ails you?”
“I am afraid!” said Josephine.
“Of what? Those fools of the Directory, or the lawyers of the two Councils? Come, come! I have Sièyes with me in the Ancients, and Lucien in the Five Hundred.”
“Then all goes well?”
“Wonderfully so!”
“You sent me word that you were waiting for me here, and I feared you had some bad news to tell me.”