instructions from Paris; he simply released all the political prisoners. Fanatical members of the Jacobin Club, however, were quietly arrested. The mayor's wife is making a list of prominent Marseilles citizens who will be invited to the ball at the Town Hall.
Napoleone and Joseph came to see Etienne. They seemed very worried and shut themselves up with him in the parlour. Afterward, Etienne was angry. He told Mama that "these Corsican adventurers" would land us all in jail. Napoleone sat for hours in our summer house and told me that he would have to take up a new profession. "You don't really think," he said, "that an officer in whom R obespierre was interested will be kept on in the Army." For the first time I saw him take snuff. Every day Junot and Marmont met Napoleone secretly at our house. Neither of them could imagine that his name would ever be dropped from the list of officers. When I re peated to him what Marmont and Junot had said, and tr ied to comfort him, he shrugged his shoulders con temptuously. "Junot is an idiot," he declared. "Entirely loyal but an idiot."
"But you've always said he was your best friend?"
"Of course. Entirely loyal even unto death, but without a brain in his head. None. An idiot."
"And—Marmont?"
"Marmont—that's something else again. Marmont is loyal because he believes that eventually my Italian plans must succeed— must succeed, do you understand?"
Then everything turned out quite differently from what we had expected. Last evening Napoleone was having supper with us. Suddenly we heard marching feet. Napoleone jumped up and rushed to the window, because he can't bear to see even four marching soldiers without wanting know their regiment, where they come from, where they're going, and the name of their sergeant. The marching stopped in front of our house, we heard voices, then crunching on the gravel path, and finally a loud knock on our door. We all sat there petrified. Napoleone had turned from the window and stared, as though he'd been turned to stone, at the door. He crossed his arms over his chest; his face was very white. The door flew open. Marie and a soldier burst into the room together.
"Mme Clary . . ." Marie began.
The soldier interrupted her. "Is General Napoleone Buonaparte in your house?" He seemed to know the name by heart for he rolled it off without hesitation. Napoleone quietly stepped out from the bay of the window and went to him. The soldier clicked his heels together and saluted.
"Warrant for the arrest of Citizen General Buonaparte!"
Simultaneously he handed Napoleone a piece of paper. Napoleone lifted this nearer his eyes, and I leapt up and said, "I'll get a light."
"Thank you, my dear, I can read the command very well," said Napoleone.
Then he let the paper drop, considered the soldier carefully, went straight to him and tapped his top button. "Even on a warm summer evening, the uniform of a sergeant in the Republican Army should be buttoned according to regulations!" While the embarrassed soldier fumbled with his uniform, Napoleone turned to Marie. "Marie, my sword is in the hall. Please be kind enough to hand it to the sergeant!" And with a bow to Mama: "Excuse the interruption, Citizeness Clary."
Napoleone's spurs clanked. The sergeant stamped out of the room behind him. We didn't stir. Outside, we heard again crunching on the gravel path in the front garden, the marching steps thundered down the road and died away. Finally Etienne broke the silence. "Let's finish our meal, we can't help—" His spoon clinked. We were eating the roast when my brother exclaimed, "What have I said from the start? An adventurer who tried to make a career with the help of the Republic." When we got to dessert, he added, "Julie, I regret that I ever gave my consent to your betrothal to Joseph."
After the meal, I crept out by the back door. Though Mama had frequently invited the Buonaparte family to our home, Mme Letizia had never returned the invitation. I could