by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER IX
Robespierre
After dark Harry presented himself at Louise Moulin's.
"Have you thought of anything, Harry?" was Jeanne's first question.She was alone, for Louise was cooking, and Virginie had lain downand cried herself to sleep.
"I have thought of a number of things," he replied, for while hehad been sitting by Victor's bedside he had turned over in his mindevery scheme by which he could get Marie out of prison, "but atpresent I have fixed upon nothing. I cannot carry out our originalplan of seizing Marat. It would require more than one to carryout such a scheme, and the friend whom I relied upon before can nolonger aid me."
"Who is it?" Jeanne asked quietly. "Is it Victor de Gisons?"
"What! Bless me, Jeanne!" Harry exclaimed in surprise. "How didyou guess that?"
"I felt sure it was Victor all along," the girl said. "In the firstplace, I never believed that he had gone away. Marie told me shehad begged and prayed him to go, and that he had only gone to pleaseher. She seemed to think it was right he should go, but I didn'tthink so. A gentleman would not run away and leave anyone he likedbehind, even if she told him. It was not likely. Why, here areyou staying here and risking your life for us, though we are notrelated to you and have no claim upon you. And how could Victorrun away? But as Marie seemed pleased to think he was safe, I saidnothing; but I know, if he had gone, and some day they had beenmarried, I should never have looked upon him as a brother. But Ifelt sure he wouldn't do it, and that he was in Paris still. Then,again, you did not tell us the name of the friend who was workingwith you, and I felt sure you must have some reason for yoursilence. So, putting the two things together, I was sure that itwas Victor. What has happened to him? Is he in prison too?"
"No, he is not in prison, Jeanne," Harry said, "but he is veryill." And he related the whole circumstances of Victor's fever."I blamed myself awfully at first for having hit him so hard, asyou may suppose, Jeanne; but the doctor says he thinks it made nodifference, and that Victor's delirium is due to the mental shockand not in any way to the blow on the head. Still I should not likeyour sister to know it. I am very glad you have guessed the truth,for it is a comfort to talk things over with you."
"Poor Marie!" Jeanne said softly. "It is well she never knew aboutit. The thought he had got safely away kept her up. And now, tellme about your plans. Could I not take Victor's place and help you toseize Marat? I am not strong, you know; but I could hold a knife,and tell him I would kill him if he cried out. I don't think Icould, you know, but he wouldn't know that."
"I am afraid that wouldn't do, Jeanne," Harry said with a slightsmile, shaking his head. "It was a desperate enterprise for two ofus. Besides, it would never do for you to run the risk of beingseparated from Virginie. Remember you are father and mother andelder sister to her now. The next plan I thought of was to try andget appointed as a warder in the prison, but that seems full ofdifficulties, for I know no one who could get me such a berth, andcertainly they would not appoint a fellow at my age unless by someextraordinary influence. Then I thought if I let out I was EnglishI might get arrested and lodged in the same prison, and mighthelp her to get out then. From what I hear, the prisoners are notseparated, but all live together."
"No, no, Harry," Jeanne exclaimed in a tone of sharp pain, "youmust not do that of all things. We have only you, and if you areonce in prison you might never get out again; besides, there arelots of other prisons, and there is no reason why they should sendyou to La Force rather than anywhere else. No, I will never consentto that plan."
"I thought it seemed too doubtful myself," Harry said. "Of course,if I knew that they would send me to La Force, I might risk it. Icould hide a file and a steel saw about me, and might cut throughthe bars; but, as you say, there is no reason why they should sendme there rather than anywhere else. I would kill that villain whoarrested her--the scoundrel, after being a guest at the chateau!--butI don't see that would do your sister any good, and wouldprobably end in my being shut up. The most hopeful plan seems tome to try and bribe some of the warders. Some of them, no doubt,would be glad enough to take money if they could see their way toletting her out without fear of detection."
"But you know we thought of that before, Harry, and agreed it wouldbe a terrible risk to try it, for the very first man you spoke tomight turn round on you."
"Of course there is a certain risk, Jeanne, anyway. There is nogetting a prisoner out of La Force without running some sort ofrisk; the thing is to fix on as safe a plan as we can. However, wemust think it out well before we do try. A failure would be fatal,and I do not think there is any pressing danger just at present.It is hardly likely there will be any repetition of the wholesalework of the 2nd of September; and if they have anything like a trialof the prisoners, there are such numbers of them, so many arrestedevery day, that it may be a long time before they come to yoursister. I do not mean that we should trust to that, only thatthere is time for us to make our plans properly. Have you thoughtof anything?"
"I have thought of all sort of things since you left us this morning,Harry, but they are like yours, just vague sort of schemes thatdo not seem possible when you try to work them out. I do not knowwhether they let you inside the prisons to sell everything to theprisoners, because if they did I might go in with something andsee Marie, and find out how she could be got out."
Harry shook his head.
"I do not think anyone would be allowed in like that, but if theydid it would only be a few to whom the privilege would be granted."
"Yes, I thought of that, Harry; but one of them might be bribedperhaps to let me take her place."
"It might be possible," Harry said, "but there would be a terriblerisk, and I don't think any advantage to compensate for it. Even ifyou did get to her and spoke to her, we should still be no nearerto getting her out. Still we mustn't be disheartened. We can hardlyexpect to hit upon a scheme at once, and I don't think either ofour heads is very clear to-day; let us think it over quietly, andperhaps some other idea may occur to one of us, I expect it will beto you. Now, good-night; keep your courage up. I rely very muchupon you, Jeanne, and you don't know what a comfort it is to me thatyou are calm and brave, and that I can talk things over to you. Idon't know what I should do if I had it all on my own shoulders."
Jeanne made no answer, but her eyes were full of tears as she puther hands into Harry's, and no sound came from her lips in answerto his good-night.
"That girl's a trump, and no mistake," Harry said to himself ashe descended the stairs. "She has got more pluck than most women,and is as cool and calm as if she were twice her age. Most girlswould be quite knocked over if they were in her place. Her fatherand mother murdered, her sister in the hands of these wretches,and danger hanging over herself and Virginie! It isn't that shedoesn't feel it. I can see she does, quite as much, if not more,than people who would sit down and howl and wring their hands. Sheis a trump, Jeanne is, and no mistake. And now about Marie. Shemust be got out somehow, but how? That is the question. I reallydon't see any possible way except by bribing her guards, andI haven't the least idea how to set about that. I think to-morrowI will tell Jacques and his wife all about it; they may know someof these men, though it isn't likely that they do; anyhow, threeheads are better than one."
Accordingly, next morning he took the kind-hearted couple into hiscounsel. When they heard that the young lady who had been arrestedwas the fiance of their sick lodger they were greatly interested,but they shook their heads when he told them that he was determinedat all hazards to get her out of prison.
"It isn't the risk so much," Jacques said, "that I look at. Lifedoesn't seem of much account in these days; but how could it bedone? Even if you made up your mind to be killed, I don't see thatwould put her a bit nearer to getting out of prison; the place istoo strong to break into or to break out of."
"No, I don't think it is possible to succeed in that sort of way;but if the men who have the keys of the corridors could be bribed,and the guard at
the gate put soundly to sleep by drugging theirdrink, it might be managed."
Jacques looked sharply at Harry to see if he was in earnest, andseeing that he was so, said drily:
"Yes, if we could do those things we should, no doubt, see our way;but how could it be managed?"
"That is just the point, Jacques. In the first place it will benecessary to find out in which corridor Mademoiselle de St. Cauxis confined; in the second, to let her know that we are workingfor her, and to learn, if possible, from her whether, among thosein charge of her, there is one man who shows some sort of feelingof pity and kindness; when that is done we should, of course, tryto get hold of him. Of course he doesn't remain in the prison allday. However, we can see about that after we have found out thefirst points."
"I know a woman who is sister to one of the warders," Elise Medartsaid. "I don't know whether he is there now or whether he has beenturned out. Martha is a good soul, and I know that sometimes shehas been inside the prison, I suppose to see her brother, for beforethe troubles the warders used to get out only once a month. Whather brother is like I don't know, but if he is like her he would,I think, be just the man to help you."
"Yes," Jacques assented, "I didn't think of Martha. She is a goodsoul and would do her best, I am sure."
"Thank you both," Harry said; "but I do not wish you to run anyrisks. You have already incurred the greatest danger by shelteringmy friend; I cannot let you hazard your lives farther. This womanmay, as you say, be ready to help us, but her brother might betraythe whole of us, and screen his sister by saying she had onlypretended to enter into the plot in order to betray it."
"We all risk our lives every day," Jacques said quietly. "I amsure we can trust Martha, and she will know whether she can relycompletely upon her brother. If she can, we will set her to soundhim. Elise will go and see her to-day, and you shall know what shethinks of it when you come this evening for your night's watching."
Greatly pleased with this unexpected stroke of luck, Harry went offat once to tell Jeanne that the outline of a plan to rescue Mariehad been fixed upon.
The girl's pale face brightened up at the news.
"Perhaps," she said, "we may be able to send a letter to her. Ishould like to send her just a line to say that Virginie and I arewell. Do you think it can be done?"
"I do not know, Jeanne. At any rate you can rely that, if it ispossible and all goes well, she shall have it; but be sure and giveno clue by which they might find you out, if the letter falls intowrong hands. Tell her we are working to get her free, and ask ifshe can suggest any way of escape; knowing the place she may seeopportunities of which we know nothing. Write it very small, onlyon a tiny piece of paper, so that a man can hide it anywhere, slipit into her hand, or put it in her ration of bread."
Jeanne wrote the little note--a few loving words, and the messageHarry had given her.
"Do not sign your name to it," Harry said; "she will know wellenough who it comes from, and it is better in case it should fallinto anyone else's hands."
That evening Harry learned that the woman had consented to soundher brother, who was still employed in the prison. She had said shewas sure that he would not betray her even if he refused to aid inthe plan.
"I am to see her to-morrow morning," Elise said. "She will gostraight from me to the prison. She says discipline is not nearlyso strict as it used to be. There is a very close watch kept overthe prisoners, but friends of the guards can go in and out withouttrouble, except that on leaving they have to be accompanied bythe guard at the door, so as to be sure that no one is passing outin disguise. She says her brother is good-natured but very fondof money. He is always talking of retiring and settling down in afarm in Brittany, where he comes from, and she thinks that if hethought he could gain enough to do this he would be ready to runsome risk, for he hates the terrible things that are being donenow."
"He seems just the man for us," Harry said. "Will you tell yourfriend, when you see her in the morning, that I will give her twentylouis and her brother a hundred if he can succeed in getting Marieout?"
"I will tell them, sir. That offer will set his wits to work, Ihave no doubt."
Harry then gave her the note Jeanne had written, for the womanto hand to her brother for delivery if he proved willing to enterinto their plan. Harry had a quiet night of watching, for Victorlay so still that his friend several times leant over him to seeif he breathed. The doctor had looked in late and said that thecrisis was at hand.
"To-morrow your friend will either sink or he will turn the corner.He is asleep now and will probably sleep for many hours. He maynever wake again; he may wake, recognize you for a few minutes,and then go off in a last stupor; he may wake stronger and with achance of life. Here is a draught that you will give him as soonas he opens his eyes; pour besides three or four spoonfuls of soupdown his throat, and if he keeps awake do the same every half hour."
It was not until ten o'clock in the morning that Victor opened hiseyes. He looked vaguely round the room and there was no recognitionin his eyes as they fell upon Harry's face, but they had lost thewild expression they had worn while he had lain there, and Harryfelt renewed hope as he lifted his head and poured the draughtbetween his lips. Then he gave him a few spoonfuls of soup and hadthe satisfaction of seeing his eyes close again and his breathingbecome more and more regular.
The doctor, when he came in and felt Victor's pulse, nodded approval.
"The fever has quite left him," he said; "I think he will do now.It will be slow, very slow, but I think he will regain his strength;as to his mind, of that I can say nothing at present."
About mid-day Elise returned.
"I have good news, monsieur," she said at once. "I waited outsidethe prison till Martha came out. Her brother has agreed to help ifhe can, but he said that he did not think that it would be at allpossible to get mademoiselle out. There are many of the men of thefaubourgs mixed up with the old warders, and there is the greatestvigilance to ensure that none escape. There would be many doors tobe opened, and the keys are all held by different persons. He sayshe will think it over, and if it is any way possible he will riskit. But he wishes first of all to declare that he does not thinkthat any way of getting her out can be discovered. He will giveher the note on the first opportunity, and get an answer from her,which he will send to his sister as soon as he gets a chance."
"That is all we can expect," Harry said joyfully. "I did not expectthat it would be an easy business, or that the man would be ableto hit upon a scheme at once; but now that he has gone so far asto agree to carry notes, the thought that he may, if he succeeds,soon have his little farm in Brittany, will sharpen his wits upwonderfully."
It was three days before an answer came from Marie. Jacques handedit to Harry when he came to take his turn by Victor's bedside.Victor was better; he was no longer unconscious, but followed withhis eyes the movements of those in the room. Once he had said, "Wheream I?" but the answer "You are with friends; you have been ill;you shall hear all about it when you get stronger," had apparentlysatisfied him. At Harry he looked with doubtful recognition. Heseemed to remember the face, but to have no further idea about it,and even when Harry said cheerfully:
"Don't you remember your friend Harry, Victor?" he had shaken hishead in feeble negative.
"I expect it will all come back to him," Jacques said, "as he getsstronger; and after all it is much better that he should remembernothing at present. It will be quite time enough for that when heis better able to stand it."
"I agree with you there," Harry said, "and I am really glad that hedid not remember me, for had he done so the past might have comeback at once and, feeble as he is, that would have completelyknocked him over."
Upon the receipt of Marie's note Harry at once started off at fullspeed and soon had the satisfaction of handing it to Jeanne.
She tore it open.
"Do you not know what it is, Harry?"
"How could I?" Harry replied. "As you see the letter is addressedt
o you. Of course I should not think of looking at it."
"Why not? You are as much interested in it as I am. Sit down betweenme and Virginie and let us read it together. Why, it is quite along epistle."
It was written in pencil upon what was evidently a fly-leaf of abook, and ran as follows:
"My darling Jeanne and Virginie, you can imagine what joy I feltwhen I received your little note to-day and heard that you werestill safe. I could hardly believe my senses when, on opening thelittle ball of paper which one of our guards thrust into my hand, Ifound that it was from you, and that you were both safe and well.I am writing this crouched down on the ground behind Madame deVigny, and so hidden from the sight of our guards, but I can onlywrite a few lines at a time, lest I should be detected. Tell ourgood friend that I fear there is little chance of escape. We arewatched night and day. We are locked up at night, three or fourtogether, in little cells, but in the day we are in a common hall.
"It is a strange mixture. Here are many of the best blood in France,together with deputies, advocates, and writers. We may talk togetheras much as we like, and sometimes even a joke and a laugh are heard.Every day some names are called out, and these go and we never seethem again. Do not fret about me, my dear sisters, we are all inGod's hands. If it is his will, we shall be saved; if not, we mustface bravely whatever comes.
"It is a day since I wrote last. A strange thing has happened whichwill make your blood boil, Jeanne, as it has made mine. I was calledout this morning to a little room where questions are sometimesasked us, and who do you think was there? M. Lebat, the son of theMaire of Dijon--the man who denounced and arrested me. What doyou think the wretch had the insolence to say? That he loved me,and that if I would consent to marry him he could save me. He saidthat his influence would suffice, not only to get me free, but toobtain for me some of our estates, and he told me he would give metime to consider his offer, but that I must remember that nothingcould save me if I refused. What do you think I did, Jeanne?Something very unladylike, I am afraid. I made a step closer tohim, and then I gave him a slap on the face which made my fingerstingle, then I made him a deep curtsy and said, 'That is my answer,Monsieur Lebat,' and walked into the great hall again.
"But do not let me waste a line of this last precious letter thatI may be able to write to you by saying more about this wretch. Ican see no possible way of escape, dears, so do not buoy yourselvesup with hope. I have none. Strange as it may seem to you we arenot very unhappy here. There are many of our old friends and someof the deputies of the Gironde, who used to attend our salon. Wekeep up each other's courage. We talk of other things just as ifwe were in a drawing-room, and when the list is called out of amorning, those who are named say good-bye bravely; there is seldoma tear shed.
"So do not think of me as wretched or unhappy in these last days.And now, my sisters, I must say adieu. You must trust yourselvesentirely to our brave English friend, as you would trust a brother.He will do all that is possible to take you out of this unhappy landand conduct you to England, where you will find Victor, Monsieurdu Tillet, and your brothers, who have, I trust, weeks ago arrivedthere in safety. Thank our friend from me and from our dead parentsfor his goodness and devotion. That your lives may be happy, mydear sisters, will be the last prayer of your loving Marie."
Inside the letter was another tiny note addressed for Jeanne,"Private." Having read the other Jeanne took the little note andwalking to the window opened it. As she did so a burning flushof colour swept across her face to her very brow. She folded itcarefully again and stood looking through the window silently foranother quarter of an hour before she came back to the table.
"What is it, Jeanne?" Virginie asked; "have you been crying, Jeannedear? You look so flushed. You must not fret. Harry says we mustnot give up hope, for that he believes he may hit upon some planfor saving Marie yet. He says it's only natural that she shouldthink there was no means of getting away, but it was only what heexpected. It is we who must invent something."
"Yes, dear, we will try," Jeanne said with a quiver in her lip,and then she suddenly burst into tears.
"You mustn't give way, Jeanne," Harry said, when she recoveredherself a little. "You know how much I trust to your advice; ifyou were to break down I should lose heart. Do not think of Marie'sletter as a good-bye. I have not lost hope yet, by a long way. Why,we have done wonders already in managing to get a letter in to herand to have her reply. I consider half the difficulty is over nowwe have a friend in there."
"I will try not to break down again," Jeanne said; "it is not oftenI give way, but to-day I do not feel quite myself, and this letterfinished me. You will see I shall be all right to-morrow."
"I hope so," Harry said as he rose to leave; "but I think you hadbetter ask Louise to give you something--your hands are hot andyour cheeks are quite flushed, and you look to me as if you werefeverish. Good night, dears!"
"I do hope Jeanne is not going to break down," Harry said as hewalked towards his lodging. "If she were to get laid up now thatwould be the finishing touch to the whole affair; but perhaps, asshe says, she will be all right in the morning. No doubt in thatnote Marie wrote as if she were sure of dying, and such a letteras that would be enough to upset any girl, even such a plucky oneas Jeanne.
"However, it is of Marie I must think now. It was a brave letter ofhers; it is clear she has given up all hope. This is a bad businessabout the scoundrel Lebat. I used to wonder why he came so oftento the chateau on business that could have been done just as wellby a messenger. He saw how things were going, and thought that whenthe division of the estates came he might get a big slice. However,it's most unfortunate that he should have had this interview withMarie in the prison. If it had not been for that it might have beenmonths before her turn came for trial. As it is, no doubt Lebat willhave her name put down at once in the list of those for trial, ifsuch a farce can be called a trial, and will see that no time islost before it appears on that fatal list for execution.
"He will flatter himself, of course, that when the last momentcomes, and she sees that there is no hope whatever, she will changeher mind. There is one thing, if she is murdered I will kill himas I would a dog, for he will be her murderer just as much as ifhe had himself cut her throat. I would do it at once if it were notfor the girls. I must not run any unnecessary risks, at any rateI need not think of him now; the one thing at present is to getMarie out."
Turning this over in his mind, he walked about for some hours,scarce noticing where he was going. It seemed to him that theremust be some way of getting Marie out if he could only hit uponit. He turned over in his mind every escape he had ever read of,but in most of these the prisoner had been a man, capable of usingtools passed in to him to saw through iron bars, pierce walls, orovercome jailers; some had been saved by female relatives, wivesor daughters, who went in and exchanged clothes and places withthem, but this was not feasible here. This was not a prison whererelatives could call upon friends, for to be a relative or friendof a prisoner was quite sufficient in the eyes of the terroriststo mark anyone as being an enemy of the republic.
He was suddenly roused from his reverie by a cry, and beneath thedim light of a lantern, suspended over the narrow street, he saw aman feebly defending himself against two others. He sprang forwardjust as the man fell, and with his stick struck a sharp blow onthe uplifted wrist of one of the assailants, sending the knife hewas holding flying through the air. The other turned upon him, buthe drew the pistol which he always carried beneath his clothes, andthe two men at once took to their heels. Harry replaced his pistoland stooped over the fallen man.
"Are you badly hurt?" he asked.
"No, I think not, but I do not know. I think I slipped down; butthey would have killed me had you not arrived."
"Well, let me get you to your feet," Harry said, holding outhis hands, but with a feeling of some disgust at the abject fearexpressed in the tones of the man's voice. He was indeed tremblingso that even when Harry hauled him to his feet he could s
carcelystand.
"You had better lean against the wall for a minute or two torecover yourself," Harry said. "I see you have your coat cut on theshoulder, and are bleeding pretty freely, but it is nothing to befrightened about. If you will give me your handkerchief I will bindit up for you."
Harry unbuttoned the man's coat, for his hands shook so much thathe was unable to do so, pulled the arm out of the sleeve, and tiedthe bandage tightly round the shoulder. The man seemed to belongto the bourgeois class, and evidently was careful as to his attire,which was neat and precise. His linen and the ruffles of his shirtwere spotlessly white and of fine material. The short-waisted coatwas of olive-green cloth, with bright metal buttons; the waistcoat,extending far below the coat, was a light-buff colour, brocadedwith a small pattern of flowers. When he had bound the wound Harryhelped him on with his coat again. He was by this time recoveringhimself.
"Oh these aristocrats," he murmured, "how they hate me!"
The words startled Harry. What was this? He had not interfered, ashe had supposed, to prevent the robbery of some quiet citizen bythe ruffians of the streets. It was a political assassination thathad been attempted--a vengeance by Royalists upon one of the menof the Revolution. He looked more closely at the person whose lifehe had saved. He had a thin and insignificant figure--his face waspale and looked like that of a student. It seemed to Harry that hehad seen it before, but where he could not say. His first thoughtwas one of regret that he had interfered to save one of the menof the 2d of September; then the thought flashed through his mindthat there might be some benefit to be derived from it.
"Young man," the stranger said, "will you give me your arm andescort me home? You have saved my life; it is a humble one, butperhaps it is of some value to France. I live but two streets away.It is not often I am out alone, for I have many enemies, but I wascalled suddenly out on business, though I have no doubt now themessage was a fraudulent one, designed simply to put me into thehands of my foes."
The man spoke in a thin hard voice, which inspired Harry, he knewnot why, with a feeling of repulsion; he had certainly heard itbefore. He offered him his arm and walked with him to his door.
"Come up, I beg you," the stranger said.
He ascended to the second floor and rang at the bell. A woman witha light opened it.
"Why, my brother," she exclaimed on seeing his face, "you are ill!Has anything happened?"
"I have been attacked in the street," he said, "but I am not hurt,though, had it not been for this citizen it would have gone hardlywith me. You have to thank him for saving your brother's life."
They had entered a sitting-room now. It was plainly but very neatlyfurnished. There were some birds in cages, which, late though thehour was, hopped on their perches and twittered when they heardthe master's voice, and he responded with two or three words ofgreeting to them.
"Set the supper," he said to his sister; "the citizen will take ameal with us. You know who I am, I suppose?" he said to Harry.
"No," Harry replied. "I have a recollection of your face and voice,but I cannot recall where I have met you."
"I am Robespierre," he said.
Harry gave a start of surprise. This man whom he had saved was hewhom he had so often execrated--one of the leaders of those whohad deluged France with blood--the man who, next only to Maratwas hated and feared by the Royalists of France. His first feelingwas one of loathing and hatred, but at the same moment there flashedthrough his mind the thought that chance had favoured him beyondhis hopes, and that the comedy which he had planned with Victorto carry out upon the person of Marat had come to pass withoutpremeditation, but with Robespierre as the chief actor.
But so surprised and so delighted was he that for a minute he satunable to say a word. Robespierre was gratified at the effect whichhis name had produced. His was a strangely-mixed character--atonce timid and bold, shrinking from personal danger, yet ready tourge the extremest measures. Simple in his tastes, and yet very vainand greedy of applause. Domestic and affectionate in his privatecharacter, but ready to shed a river of blood in his public capacity.Pure in morals; passionless in his resolves; incorruptible andinflexible; the more dangerous because he had neither passion norhate; because he had not, like Danton and Marat, a lust for blood,but because human life to him was as nothing, because had heconsidered it necessary that half France should die for the benefitof the other half he would have signed their death-warrant withoutemotion or hesitation.
"You are surprised, young man," he said, "but the ways of fate areinscrutable. The interposition of a youth has thwarted the schemesof the enemies of France. Had you been but ten seconds later I shouldhave ceased to be, and one of the humble instruments by which fateis working for the regeneration of the people would have perished."
While Robespierre was speaking Harry had rapidly thought over therole which it would be best for him to adopt. Should he avow hisreal character and ask for an order for the liberation of Marie asa recompense for the service he had rendered Robespierre, or shouldhe retain his present character and obtain Robespierre's confidence?There was danger in an open appeal, for, above all things, Robespierreprided himself upon his incorruptibility, and he might considerthat to free a prisoner for service rendered to himself would bea breach of his duty to France. He resolved, therefore, to keepsilence at present, reserving an appeal to Robespierre's gratitudefor the last extremity.
"Pardon me, monsieur," he said, after he had rapidly arrived atthis conclusion; "my emotion was naturally great at finding thatI had unwittingly been the means of saving the life of one on whomthe eyes of France are fixed. I rejoice indeed that I should havebeen the means of preserving such a life."
This statement was strictly true, although not perhaps in the sensein which Robespierre regarded it.
"We will talk more after supper," he said. "My sister is, I see,ready with it. Indeed it is long past our usual hour, and we werejust sitting down when I was called out by what purported to be animportant message from the Club."
