“From that artilleryman you see standing there in his shirt. It will cost you a corporal’s commission.”
“You are wrong, Debel,” said Bonaparte; “it will cost me two commissions, one for the corporal, and one for the general of division. Forward, march, gentlemen! We are going to the Tuileries.”
And, bending forward on his horse, as he usually did, his left hand holding a slack rein, his right resting on his hip, with bent head and dreamy eyes, he made his first steps along that incline, at once glorious and fatal, which was to lead him to a throne—and to St. Helena.
CHAPTER XXIV. THE EIGHTEENTH BRUMAIRE
On entering the Rue de la Victoire, Bonaparte found Sebastiani’s dragoons drawn up in line of battle. He wished to address them, but they interrupted him at the first words, shouting: “We want no explanations. We know that you seek only the good of the Republic. Vive Bonaparte!”
The cortège followed the streets which led from the Rue de la Victoire to the Tuileries, amid the cries of “Vive Bonaparte!”
General Lefebvre, according to promise, was waiting at the palace gates. Bonaparte, on his arrival at the Tuileries, was hailed with the same cheers that had accompanied him. Once there, he raised his head and shook it. Perhaps this cry of “Vive Bonaparte!” did not satisfy him. Was he already dreaming of “Vive Napoleon?”
He advanced in front of the troop, surrounded by his staff, and read the decree of the Five Hundred, which transferred the sessions of the Legislature to Saint-Cloud and gave him the command of the armed forces.
Then, either from memory, or offhand—Bonaparte never admitted any one to such secrets—instead of the proclamation he had dictated to Bourrienne two days earlier, he pronounced these words: