‘Of course, but the range is long. They’ll never hit us, even if they do shoot.’

‘Really? That’s a comfort.’

‘Come on, Junot!’ Napoleon punched his shoulder. ‘Where’s that spirit you showed at Toulon? We’ll be safe enough, provided we can find a way through.’

They retreated down the street and picked a narrow alley running closer to the palace. It was still very early and only the rebels had taken to the streets. Most of the Parisians remained in their homes, and prayed that the trouble would not come close to their door. At length the two officers found a narrow passage cutting between two tenements. At the far end the Carrousel lay clearly visible, with the gates of the palace a hundred paces beyond. Napoleon crept to the end of the passage, with Junot close behind. Then they crouched down and Napoleon took a deep breath. ‘Ready?’

Junot nodded.

They burst from cover and sprinted across the cobblestones towards the gates. For a few seconds no one seemed to have noticed them. Then there was a shout from one of the men sheltering behind the nearest wagon.

‘You there! Stop!’

As they kept running Napoleon saw some of the soldiers on the gates raise their heads to look in their direction.Then one of them snatched up his musket, snapped the cock back and took aim. There was a flash and a puff of smoke, followed by a loud crack and the high-pitched whirr as the ball passed close overhead.

‘Don’t fire!’ Napoleon cried out. ‘We’re army officers!’

But his shouts were lost in the confusion of other voices as the royalists rose up and hurled insults at them. Another shot was fired, low, ricocheting off the stones between Napoleon and Junot. At once, Napoleon tore at the buttons of his coat as he ran and then shivered free of the coat to expose his uniform jacket. ‘Don’t fire!’

To his relief the soldiers lowered their weapons. Then the sound of further shots filled the air and he turned and saw that some of the royalists were attempting to shoot the officers down before they reached the safety of the palace gates.

The soldiers began to provide some covering fire, and Napoleon and Junot sprinted for the army barricades as musket balls cracked off the ground and cut through the air like angry hornets. Then they were at the gates and desperately scrambling over the line of barrels and meal bags that formed the barricade. They rolled over the top and dropped down on the far side, breathless. A sergeant scurried along the line of the barricade towards them. ‘Who the hell are you?’

‘Brigadier Bonaparte and Lieutenant Junot. We’re here to help.’

‘Help?’ The sergeant frowned. ‘Then you could have brought some men with you, sir. A battalion or two of line infantry wouldn’t go amiss.’

‘Sorry.’ Napoleon smiled grimly. ‘We’re all there is.’

‘Pity.’