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The first comer pointed often to the newspaper, and read passages from it to his companion. This suggested to Gabriel the demand for another journal. When the waiter brought it to him, his eye rested upon a long paragraph, in which the name of George Cadoudal frequently occurred.
Because he was 130 leagues from the scene of the plot, and had no connection with it, he was to die! Such arguments cannot fail to inspire horror. It is absolutely impossible any reasonable person can regard the Due d'Enghien as an accomplice of Cadoudal; and Napoleon basely imposed on his contemporaries and posterity by inventing such falsehoods, and investing them with the authority of his name.
"Will I still be free to depart when I please?" Bonaparte went to the door and opened it. "The aide-de-camp on duty," he said. He waited, expecting to see Rapp. Roland appeared. "Ah, is it you!" he cried. Then, turning to Cadoudal, he said: "Colonel, I do not need to present to you my aide-de-camp, M. Roland de Montrevel. He is already one of your acquaintances.
"Oh!" said Georges, "I do not trouble myself about that; he will be executed." One of the two men who had brought in the supper table now entered the room. "Brise-Bleu," said Cadoudal, "tell Coeur-de-Roi that I wish to speak to him." Two minutes later the Breton presented himself. "Coeur-de-Roi," said Cadoudal, "did you not tell me that the murderer Thomas Milliere was at Roche-Bernard?"
I have not time to think of such things myself, but my wife will sleep more soundly now that she knows that this Toussac is out of the way. 'Yes, yes, he was a terrible man, cried the Empress. 'So was that Georges Cadoudal. They were both terrible men. 'I have my star, Josephine, said Napoleon, patting her upon the head.
"And you are safe and sound?" "Don't speak of it, general. I do verily believe I have a compact with the devil." That same evening Cadoudal, as he said, left Paris for England.
Cadoudal refused to come to terms; but, like ourselves, he received orders from Louis XVIII. to cease hostilities. Coincident with that order came another message from the First Consul to Cadoudal. It was a safeguard for the Vendean general, and an invitation to come to Paris; an overture from one power to another power. Cadoudal accepted, and is now on his way to Paris.
When they reached the village they could see from a distance, by the light of some pine torches, a tumultuous mob in the market square. The cries and movements of this mob bespoke some grave occurrence. "Fast, fast!" cried Cadoudal. Roland asked no better; he dug his spurs in his horse's belly. At the clatter of horses' hoofs the peasants scattered.
More than a century ago, on the night of the twenty-third of August, 1803, Georges Cadoudal and six accomplices, who had landed in France with the intention of kidnapping the first consul, Bonaparte, scrambled up to the top by the road which I will show you. Since then, this road has been demolished by landslips.
I need energetic men like you to accomplish the work I have undertaken. Will you be one of them? I have already offered you the rank of colonel, but you are worth more than that. I now offer you the rank of general of division." "I thank you from the bottom of my heart, citizen First Consul," replied Cadoudal; "but you would despise me if I accepted." "Why so?" queried Bonaparte, hastily.
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