we are settled in the--the Whatistobe, I shall remember, and another
only woman I have ever loved will dawn upon your horizon."

Bonaparte was now besieged by all the military personages of France.
His home became the Mecca of soldiers of all kinds, and in order to
hold their interest the hero of the day found it necessary to draw
somewhat upon the possessions which the people were convinced he was
without. Never an admirer of consistency, France admired this more
than ever. It was a paradox that this poverty-stricken soldier
should entertain so lavishly, and the people admired the nerve which
prompted him to do it, supposing, many of them, that his creditors
were men of a speculative nature, who saw in the man a good-paying
future investment.

Thus matters went until the evening of the 17th Brumaire, when
Napoleon deemed that he had been on parade long enough, and that the
hour demanded action.

"This is the month of Bromide," he said.

"Brumaire," whispered Bourrienne.

"I said Bromide," retorted Napoleon, "and the people are asleep.
Bromide has that effect. That is why I call it Bromide, and I have
as much right to name my months as any one else. Wherefore I repeat,
this is the month of Bromide, and the people are asleep! I will now
wake them up. The garrisons of Paris and the National Guard have
asked me to review them, and I'm going to do it, and I've a new set
of tictacs."