It was one o'clock when Garnot, by a brilliant play, ended the sixth game of backgammon. The two friends shook hands at parting.
"Au revoir," said Carnot to Barthélemy.
"Au revoir," replied Barthélemy. "Are you sure, my dear colleague? In these times I am never sure when I leave a friend at night that I shall meet him again in the morning."
"What the deuce do you fear?" asked Carnot.
"Hum!" said Barthélemy, "a stroke of the dagger is soon given."
"Nonsense!" said Carnot, "you need not worry about that. You are too goodnatured for them to think of fearing you. They will treat you as one of the do-nothing kings; you will be shaved and shut up in a cloister."
"But then, if you fear that," said Barthélemy, "why do you prefer defeat to victory? For, after the propositions which have been made us, it depends solely on ourselves whether we overthrow our three colleagues or not."
"My dear friend," said Carnot, "you cannot see beyond your nose, which is unfortunately not as long as that of your uncle. Who are the men who have made us these propositions? The royalists. Now do you think the royalists would ever pardon me for the part I have taken against them? It is only a choice of deaths; with the royalists I shall be hanged as a regicide, with the directors I shall be assassinated as a royalist. I would rather be assassinated."
"And with these ideas you can go willingly to bed in your own rooms?" said Barthélemy.
"Where should I go to bed?"