“Yes, General; to the death I’m yours.”
Buonaparte unbuckled the sabre he wore at his side, and placing it in Lefebvre’s hands, said, “I wore this at the Pyramids; it is a fitting present from one soldier to another. Now, then, to horse!”
The splendid cortège moved along the grassy alleys to the gate, outside which, now, three regiments of cavalry and three battalions of the 17th were drawn up. Never was a Sovereign, in all his pride of power, surrounded with a more gorgeous staff. The conquerors of Italy, Germany, and Egypt, the greatest warriors of Europe, were there grouped around him—whose glorious star, even then, shone bright above him.
Scarcely had Buonaparte issued forth into the street than, raising his hat above his head, he called aloud, “Vive la République!” The troops caught up the cry, and the air rang with the wild cheers.
At the head of this force, surrounded by the Generals, he rode slowly along towards the Tuileries, at the entrance to the gardens of which stood Carnet, dressed in his robe of senator-in-waiting, to receive him. Four Colonels, his aides-de-camp, marched in front of Buonaparte, as he entered the Hall of the Ancients—his walk was slow and measured, and his air studiously respectful.
The decree being read, General Buonaparte replied in a few broken phrases, expressive of his sense of the confidence reposed in him: the words came with difficulty, and he spoke like one abashed and confused. He was no longer in front of his armed legions, whose war-worn looks inspired the burning eloquence of the camp—those flashing images, those daring flights, suited not the cold assembly, in whose presence he now stood—and he was ill at ease and disconcerted. It was only, at length, when turning to the Generals who pressed on after him, he addressed the following words, that his confidence in himself came back, and that he felt himself once more,—
“This is the Republic we desire to have—and this we shall have; for it is the wish of those who now stand around me.”
The cries of “Vive la République!” burst from the officers at once, as they waved their chapeaux in the air, mingled with louder shouts of “Vive le Général!”
If the great events of the day were now over with the Council, they had only begun with Buonaparte.
“Whither now, General?” said Lefebvre, as he rode to his side.