CHAPTER 7.XII.
Aupres d'un corps aussi avili que la Convention, il restait des
chances pour que Robespierre sortit vainqueur de cette lutte.
Lacretelle, volume xii.
(Amongst a body so debased as the Convention, there still
remained some chances that Robespierre would come off victor in
the struggle.)
As Robespierre left the hall, there was a dead and ominous
silence in the crowd without. The herd, in every country, side
with success; and the rats run from the falling tower. But
Robespierre, who wanted courage, never wanted pride, and the last
often supplied the place of the first; thoughtfully, and with an
impenetrable brow, he passed through the throng, leaning on St.
Just, Payan and his brother following him.
As they got into the open space, Robespierre abruptly broke the
silence.
"How many heads were to fall upon the tenth?"
"Eighty," replied Payan.
"Ah, we must not tarry so long; a day may lose an empire:
terrorism must serve us yet!"
He was silent a few moments, and his eyes roved suspiciously
through the street.
"St. Just," he said abruptly, "they have not found this
Englishman whose revelations, or whose trial, would have crushed
the Amars and the Talliens. No, no! my Jacobins themselves are
growing dull and blind. But they have seized a woman,--only a
woman!"
"A woman's hand stabbed Marat," said St. Just. Robespierre
stopped short, and breathed hard.
"St. Just," said he, "when this peril is past, we will found the
Reign of Peace. There shall be homes and gardens set apart for
the old. David is already designing the porticos. Virtuous men
shall be appointed to instruct the young. All vice and disorder
shall be NOT exterminated--no, no! only banished! We must not
die yet. Posterity cannot judge us till our work is done. We
have recalled L'Etre Supreme; we must now remodel this corrupted
world. All shall be love and brotherhood; and--ho! Simon!
Simon!--hold! Your pencil, St. Just!" And Robespierre wrote
hastily. "This to Citizen President Dumas. Go with it quick,
Simon. These eighty heads must fall TO-MORROW,--TO-MORROW,
Simon. Dumas will advance their trial a day. I will write to
Fouquier-Tinville, the public accuser. We meet at the Jacobins
to-night, Simon; there we will denounce the Convention itself;
there we will rally round us the last friends of liberty and
France."
A shout was heard in the distance behind, "Vive la republique!"
The tyrant's eye shot a vindictive gleam. "The republic!--faugh!
We did not destroy the throne of a thousand years for that
canaille!"
THE TRIAL, THE EXECUTION, OF THE VICTIMS IS ADVANCED A DAY! By
the aid of the mysterious intelligence that had guided and
animated him hitherto, Zanoni learned that his arts had been in
vain. He knew that Viola was safe, if she could but survive an
hour the life of the tyrant. He knew that Robespierre's hours
were numbered; that the 10th of Thermidor, on which he had
originally designed the execution of his last victims, would see
himself at the scaffold. Zanoni had toiled, had schemed for the
fall of the Butcher and his reign. To what end? A single word
from the tyrant had baffled the result of all. The execution of
Viola is advanced a day. Vain seer, who wouldst make thyself the
instrument of the Eternal, the very dangers that now beset the
tyrant but expedite the doom of his victims! To-morrow, eighty
heads, and hers whose pillow has been thy heart! To-morrow! and
Maximilien is safe to-night!
