To these he added warlike heroes--Dampierre, Dugommier, Joubert--to
prove that, while he did not fear the memory of a Bourbon in the great
Conde, neither was he jealous of his brothers-in-arms, the victims of a
cause already no longer his.

Matters were in this state at the period of which we are now speaking;
that is, the last of February, 1800. The Tuileries had been cleaned,
the busts were in their niches, the statues were on their pedestals; and
only a favorable occasion was wanting.

That occasion came when the news of Washington's death was received. The
founder of the liberty of the United States had ceased to breathe on the
14th of December, 1799.

It was that event of which Bonaparte was thinking, when Bourrienne
saw by the expression of his face that he must be left entirely to the
reflections which absorbed him.

The carriage stopped before the Tuileries. Bonaparte sprang out with the
same haste with which he had entered it; went rapidly up the stairs, and
through the apartments, examining more particularly those which had been
inhabited by Louis XVI. and Marie-Antoinette. In the private study of
Louis XVI. he stopped short.

"Here's where we will live, Bourrienne," he said, suddenly, as if
the latter had followed him through the mental labyrinth in which he
wandered, following the thread of Ariadne which we call thought. "Yes,
we will lodge here; the Third Consul can have the Pavilion of Flora, and
Cambaceres will remain at the Chancellerie."

"In that way," said Bourrienne, "when the time comes, you will have only
one to turn out."

"Come, come," said Bonaparte, catching Bourrienne by the ear, "that's
not bad."

"When shall we move in, general?" asked Bourrienne.

"Oh, not to-morrow; it will take at least a week to prepare the
Parisians to see me leave the Luxembourg for the Tuileries."

"Eight days," exclaimed Bourrienne; "that will do."

"Especially if we begin at once. Come, Bourrienne, to the Luxembourg."

With the rapidity that characterized all his movements when serious
matters were in question, he passed through the suites of apartments he
had already visited, ran down the stairs, and sprang into the carriage,
calling out: "To the Luxembourg!"

"Wait, wait," cried Bourrienne, still in the vestibule; "general, won't
you wait for me?"

"Laggard!" exclaimed Bonaparte. And the carriage started, as it had
come, at a gallop.

When Bonaparte re-entered his study he found the minister of