Before Murat turned away, Napoleon grasped his shoulder. ‘That was a fine piece of work, Major.When this is over, you can be sure that everyone will know of Joachim Murat’s role in the defeat of the traitors.’

‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’ Murat could not contain a boyish smile. Then he saluted and turned to stride off and carry out his orders.

Night had fallen as the last of the cannon was eased into position behind the barricades at the main gateway leading out on to the Carrousel. The sky was thick with clouds and the air was cold and clammy, and as the first chill flecks of rain began to fall Napoleon gave orders for the powder kegs to be covered with waxed canvas. It was vital that the guns have dry powder ready for the next morning. Without artillery support the thinly spread government forces would not stand a chance.

Light glowed round the edges of the shutters of the royal suite where Barras had settled in for the night with his closest political associates, but Napoleon did not begrudge the man his creature comforts. It was better that Barras kept away from the men protecting the palace, in case he felt tempted to give any orders. A grenadier had found Napoleon a sword and another man lent Napoleon his greatcoat. At midnight, as the drizzle turned into steady, freezing rain, Napoleon settled with his back to the wheel of a gun carriage and pulled the thick woollen folds of the garment tightly about his shoulders. He willed himself not to sleep, in case the royalists attempted an attack under cover of the foul weather. But there was no sound other than the steady hiss as rain struck the cobbles in a shimmering film of tiny explosions.

The rain continued through the night and into the dawn as the men on watch duty stared into the gloom, tense and alert for any sign of attack. As the thin milky light spread across the Carrousel and revealed a handful of the royalists still sheltering behind their wagons, Napoleon roused Junot, who had fallen asleep an hour or so earlier, and told him to pass the word along the line to stand to. Sodden, shivering forms of men rose up stiffly behind the barricades and reached for their muskets. Their ears strained to pick up any sound of the approach of the royalist assault columns. But the streets were still as dawn gave way to dull daylight hemmed in beneath a thick blanket of dark rain clouds.

Junot returned from his errand and crouched down beside Napoleon.

‘There’s little sign of any movement around the palace, sir. Seems that Barras’s information wasn’t accurate.’