These words roused no expression of hatred on the part of the two
brothers.

"Ha! you are no longer Corsicans!" cried Piombo, with a sort of
despair. "Farewell. In other days I protected you," he added, in a
reproachful tone. "Without me, your mother would never have reached
Marseille," he said, addressing himself to Bonaparte, who was silent
and thoughtful, his elbow resting on a mantel-shelf.

"As a matter of duty, Piombo," said Napoleon at last, "I cannot take
you under my wing. I have become the leader of a great nation; I
command the Republic; I am bound to execute the laws."

"Ha! ha!" said Bartolomeo, scornfully.

"But I can shut my eyes," continued Bonaparte. "The tradition of the
Vendetta will long prevent the reign of law in Corsica," he added, as
if speaking to himself. "But it _must_ be destroyed, at any cost."

Bonaparte was silent for a few moments, and Lucien made a sign to
Piombo not to speak. The Corsican was swaying his head from right to
left in deep disapproval.

"Live here, in Paris," resumed the First Consul, addressing
Bartolomeo; "we will know nothing of this affair. I will cause your
property in Corsica to be bought, to give you enough to live on for
the present. Later, before long, we will think of you. But, remember,
no more vendetta! There are no woods here to fly to. If you play with
daggers, you must expect no mercy. Here, the law protects all
citizens; and no one is allowed to do justice for himself."