"From certain words I accidentally overheard, I feared there were designs against your life, and I followed you. It was I who escorted you to the Directors on your arrival. When I heard you say that you would walk alone, I tried to warn you; you may recollect it, Sir, and that I was dismissed to my duties by the President of the Directors."
"I remember. I remember also that the President's words were prompted by my own. Lieutenant St. Just, I owe you an apology; more, my life. You shall not find me ungenerous or ungrateful."
"To have saved the life of the most illustrious soldier of France, General, is its own reward."
Buonaparte loved flattery, though he affected to despise it. "Your reward shall not stop at that," he laughed, "Walk with me now; we can talk of this attack upon me, on our way. One moment, though," and he kicked Vipont's unconscious body carelessly with his foot. "What are we to do with this carrion?"
"I will care for him; Voilà!" And so saying, St. Just dragged Vipont to the nearest doorway and, covering him with his cloak, left him. The body of a wounded—even of a murdered man—was at that time a common sight in the early morning in the streets of Paris.
St. Just leaning on Buonaparte's arm, they quitted the narrow passage and made their way back to the main thoroughfare. Here they were lucky enough to find a passing coach. This Buonaparte hailed. Then he told St. Just to get in and accompany him to his house in the Rue Chantereine.
During the drive, St. Just placed the General in the possession of affairs (so far as he knew them) at the Directoire. Buonaparte listened intently to every word that fell from St. Just's lips, and, though the faintness of the light prevented St. Just from seeing much more than the outline of his companion's figure, he knew from the tone of the other's replies that every word he uttered was being carefully weighed. He had hardly finished his relation, before the carriage drew up at Buonaparte's house. A few moments later, St. Just found himself following his host into a room in which sat Buonaparte's wife. Josephine sprang to her feet with a cry of joy. "My husband!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. "I was beginning to think you were never coming. Bourrienne was here quite early in the evening and told me you would come to me immediately." Both Buonaparte and his wife were so taken up with one another that, for some moments, St. Just remained unnoticed. But presently Buonaparte remembered him and introduced him to his wife, to whom he made St. Just tell his story of the night's adventures.
When the young officer had finished, there was a momentary silence, during which Josephine and St. Just were thinking as was natural, one of the other, "how handsome he (she) is."
Josephine was the first to break the silence. Turning to St. Just with a smile, she said: "Sir, I thank you for your bravery and adroitness in delivering my husband from his peril. In return, if you have anything at heart that we can forward, I am sure I express both his sentiments and my own when I say that we will do so."
"Madame," St. Just replied, "I am content in that I have been the humble means of saving your husband's life; of preserving a husband for you, but also her greatest General for France. Permit me to say in answer to your kindness that all I ask is, to be near the General in his campaigns now and always, in order that, while my life lasts, I may devote it to him."