ery. There were but five hundred regular troops with which to
resist the onset. Menou, the officer in command, acknowledged his
inability to meet the crisis, and surrendered his power to Barras. This
general immediately, as by a sudden thought, exclaimed, "I know the man
who can defend us! He is a little Corsican, who dares do any thing, and
is perfectly reckless of consequences!"

The little Corsican, Napoleon Bonaparte, the day-star of whose fame was
just beginning to rise over the smouldering ruins of Toulon, was invited
to meet the Convention. His fragile form was almost feminine in its
proportions, but an eagle eye calmly reposed in his pallid and emaciate
countenance. He had been severely sick, and the Convention looked with
amazement and incredulity upon this feeble youth, as the one presented
to rescue them from their impending peril.

The president fixed his eye upon him doubtingly, and said, "Are you
willing to undertake our defense?"

"Yes!" was the calm, laconic, and almost indifferent reply.

"But are you aware of the magnitude of the undertaking?"

"Fully!" said Napoleon, fixing his piercing eye upon the president; "and
I am in the habit of accomplishing that which I undertake."

From that moment his authority was established. Every member of the
Convention felt the mysterious fascination of his master mind. Barras
surrendered the whole command into his hands. He instantly called into
the city all the national forces which were around Paris, and disposed
fifty pieces of heavy artillery, under the command of Murat, so as to
rake all the avenues to the Convention. His calm and almost superhuman
energy sought no repose that night. The delay of but a few moments would
have placed this very park of artillery, which secured his victory, in
the hands of the insurgents. When the morning dawned, the Tuilleries, as
if by magic, had assumed the aspect of a fortified camp. The little
Corsican was silently and calmly awaiting the onset, as secure of
triumph as if the victory were already achieved.

But in every quarter of Paris, during the night, the insurgents had
been mustering their forces, and the mutterings of the approaching storm
were dismally echoed through the streets of the metropolis. Above thirty
thousand men, all well armed with musketry and artillery, in regular
military array, and under experienced generals, came pouring down upon
the feeble band which surrounded the Convention.

Will the little