ferred the sessions of the
Legislature to Saint-Cloud and gave him the command of the armed forces.

Then, either from memory, or offhand--Bonaparte never admitted any
one to such secrets--instead of the proclamation he had dictated to
Bourrienne two days earlier, he pronounced these words:

"Soldiers--The Council of Ancients has given me the command of the city
and the army.

"I have accepted it, to second the measures to be adopted for the good
of the people.

"The Republic has been ill governed for two years. You have hoped for my
return to put an end to many evils. You celebrated it with a unanimity
which imposes obligations that I now fulfil. Fulfil yours, and second
your general with the vigor, firmness and strength I have always found
in you.

"Liberty, victory, and peace will restore the French Republic to the
rank it occupied in Europe, which ineptitude and treason alone caused
her to lose!"

The soldiers applauded frantically. It was a declaration of war against
the Directory, and soldiers will always applaud a declaration of war.

The general dismounted, amid shouts and bravos, and entered the
Tuileries. It was the second time he had crossed the threshold of this
palace of the Valois, whose arches had so ill-sheltered the crown
and head of the last Bourbon who had reigned there. Beside him walked
citizen Roederer. Bonaparte started as he recognized him, and said:

"Ah! citizen Roederer, you were here on the morning of August 10."

"Yes, general," replied the future Count of the Empire.

"It was you who advised Louis XVI. to go before the National Assembly."

"Yes."

"Bad advice, citizen Roederer! I should not have followed it."

"We advise men according to what we know of them. I would not give
General Bonaparte the same advice I gave King Louis XVI. When a king has
the fact of his flight to Varennes and the 20th of June behind him, it
is difficult to save him."

As Roederer said these words, they reached a window opening on the
garden of the Tuileries. Bonaparte stopped, and, seizing Roederer by
the arm, he said: "On the 20th of June I was there," pointing with his
finger to the terrace by the water, "behind the third linden. Through
the open window I could see the poor king, with the red cap on his head.
It was a piteous sight; I pitied him."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing, I could do nothing; I was only a lieutenant of artillery.
But I longed to go in like the others, and whisper: 'Sire,