On the 26th of October the Convention, which for so long had tyrannized over the French people, was at last dissolved; but the majority of its members together with the newly elected third met the following day under the warrant of the new Constitution. As was to be expected, the nominees of the old majority were chosen to fill the offices of State in both the Council of the Five Hundred and the Council of the Ancients.
They then proceeded to the election of the five Directors who were in future to wield the executive power. At the head of the list submitted by the Five Hundred to the Ancients stood the names of Barras, Rewbell, Sieyes, Larevelliere-Lepeaux and Letourneur; below them were those of forty-four nonentities none of whom was in the least suitable to hold high office. By this barefaced piece of political jobbery, and the complaisance of their old colleagues among the Ancients, the Thermidorians and Jacobins succeeded in ensuring the continuance of a government wholly anti-monarchist in character.
Sieyes, out of spleen that his own draft for a new Constitution had been rejected, refused to take office; so Carnot's name was put up and he was promptly elected. After Thermidor, as a member of the dread Committee of Public Safety, this truly great military genius had been indicted with the rest of the Committee for its crimes. But he, Prieur of the Cote d'Or, and Robert Lindet. had all been exonerated, as they had concerned themselves entirely with feeding the nation and maintaining its armed forces. Lindet, an honest man and a tireless worker, had gone so far as to insist on having a separate office, and Carnot had shut his eyes to all else while performing the remarkable feat of increasing the armies of France in less than a year from one hundred and twenty, to seven hundred and fifty, thousand men. Yet they had been deprived of their offices, and the loss of their competent direction had resulted in a chronic shortage of supplies of all kinds in all the French armies for many months past. So the appointment as a Director of the 'Organizer of Victories', as Carnot had been called, was hailed with enthusiasm by all classes.
Larevelliere-Le'peaux had been elected because, on the one hand, he was a typical Girondinist lawyer, and, on the other, had an intense hatred of Christianity, which strongly appealed to the old enrages of the Mountain; so he received backing from both parties and polled more votes than any of the others.
Why Letourneur's name had been put forward was a mystery, as he was a man of no distinction: simply an ex-Captain of Engineers who had worked under Carnot at the War Office. But he was an honest man and had no enemies; so overnight he found himself a celebrity.
Barras, in spite of his vices, at least had to recommend him his courage and initiative at times of crisis, but he was incurably lazy where routine matters were concerned.
Rewbell was a much stronger character than any of the others and a dyed-in-the-wool revolutionary. As Representant en Mission he had for long bullied and terrorized the officers of the Army of the Rhine. He was a fanatical believer in the type of Dictatorship practised by the old Committee of Public Safety and regarded all forms of personal liberty as harmful to the State. He was dishonest himself and had a cynical disbelief in the honesty of others. His manner was rough, he had a harsh voice and expressed his opinions with brutal frankness. Nevertheless, he had an enormous capacity for business, great ability, and a will of iron; so anybody who knew the five men could have little doubt that he would be the one to dominate their councils.
On November the 3rd, dressed in magnificent uniforms specially designed for them, the five new 'Kings of France’ were installed in the Luxemburg Palace, and set about appointing their Ministers. In the meantime Roger had already made the first moves towards going home, and meant to leave shortly after witnessing this epoch-making event
Under the new Constitution, Barras, by becoming a Director, had automatically had to relinquish his military command; so Roger's appointment as a Colonel on his staff had also lapsed. Buonaparte, who had stepped into Barras's shoes as C.-in-C. Army of the Interior, had taken a liking to Roger and told him that although he was not a professional soldier he would be happy to find him employment Barras, too, offered to secure him a good post in the civil administration. But to both he made the same excuse for declining.
He said that the indifferent food and harsh conditions under which he had lived while for so long a prisoner in England, had undermined
his health; and to restore it fully he felt the only course was to get away from Paris during the winter months to the sunshine of the South of France, where he intended to rent or buy a small property. Both expressed their sympathy, approved his decision and said that he could count on their good offices when he returned to Paris in the spring. During a round of visits to the ladies of the salons, and other people with whom he had recently spent much of his time, he received some expressions of sympathy and more of envy that he should be leaving cold, rainy Paris for warmer climes, but everyone said they would be glad to see him back; so the stage was set for his departure under the most pleasant auspices.
On his last night he supped with Barras in his palatial new quarters at the Luxemburg. It was a gay party of a dozen men, and as many ladies all clad in transparent draperies and hoping to play the role of Aspasia to King Paul I, as they laughingly christened their host; or failing that, to ensnare one of the guests who had influence with him. The party promised to go on into the small hours, but Roger was making an early start in the morning; so soon after midnight he excused himself.
As he waited on the steps of the Palace for the porter to beckon up a coach to take him home, a tall, thin figure emerged from the shadows of the courtyard, stepped up to him and said:
"May I have a word with you, Citizen?"
By the flickering light of the torches Roger recognized Fouché; and, as the coach halted opposite them at that moment, he replied:
"Certainly, if you wish. Jump in. I will drive you home."
When they were settled in the coach, Fouché said: "So you are leaving Paris?"
"Yes; how did you know?"
'Things get about, and I hear most of them; just as I did that you would be among Barras's guests tonight"
"It seems that you must have been very anxious to see me, to wait about in the rain. You've been lucky too in that I did not remain till the end of the party, as it will go on for some hours yet"
"I have never lacked patience where my own interests are concerned," Fouché" replied acidly. "But you might have spared me the necessity of seeking you out in so uncomfortable a manner. Why did you not get in touch with me again, as you promised?"
Roger shrugged. "I saw no point in doing so. Thirteenth Vendemiaire rendered the plan we had evolved quite impossible of execution; so there was nothing for us to discuss."
"I disagree. The fact that Buonaparte ruined our.prospects does not affect the fact that you still hold the little Capet."
For a moment Roger thought of telling Fouché that he could rid his mind of the hope that he might gain anything from that belief, because the boy was dead. He would either reach that conclusion or have to be told so sometime, and the fiction that the child was still alive had served its purpose. By keeping what he knew to himself, Fouché had given him a free run on his return to Paris. Luck and his own wits had enabled him to make excellent use of it He was now as safe as the Bank of England, whereas Fouché was still friendless and discredited. The ex-Terrorist might swear until he was black in the face that Roger was an English spy, but he had not one atom of proof and no one would believe him.