And the general passed out without further hinderance. He was obliged to leave Paris in order to insure his safety.
Mathieu Dumas summoned his two aides-de-camp, ordered them to mount their horses, galloped to the barrier, gave his orders to the guard, and passed outside the walls, to go, as he said, to another post, and disappeared.
[CHAPTER XXXI]
THE TEMPLE
This is what had happened.
When a great event takes place like the 13th Vendémiaire, or the 18th Fructidor, it stamps an indelible date upon the book of history. Everybody knows this date; and so when the words "13th Vendémiaire" or "18th Fructidor" are pronounced, everybody knows the results which followed the great events commemorated by these dates, but very few know the secret springs which prepared the way for the accomplishment of these events.
As a result, we have particularly assumed the duty in our historical novels, or romanticized histories, of telling things which no one has told before, and of relating matters which we know, but of which very few persons share that knowledge with us.
Since friendly indiscretion has revealed the source from which we have obtained the priceless volumes and original and rare manuscripts from which we have drawn, this is the proper place for us to acknowledge our indebtedness for the communication of these interesting volumes which it is so hard to coax down from their shelves. They have been for us the beacon which has guided us through the 13th Vendémiaire; and we have only to light it again to penetrate the mazes of the 18th Fructidor.
It is, then, with the certainty of telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, that we repeat the phrase with which this chapter begins: This is what had happened.