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 RY JOHN P RITTPR 
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 EVEN THE TERRIBLE GUILLOTINE, DISAPPEARED FROM 
 THEIR CONSCIOUSNESS LIKE THE PHANTASMS OF A 
 
 DREAM. Page 262. frontispiece.
 
 THE MAN 
 WHO DARED 
 
 By JOHN P. RITTER 
 
 A HISTORICAL ROMANCE OF THE 
 TIME OF ROBESPIERRE 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 
 GEORGE ELMER BROWNE 
 
 PS1YATE L1MAB1 , 
 JSiT, <!0}> 1 G7 
 
 G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS NEW YORK 
 
 MDCCCXCIX.
 
 COPYRIGHT 1899, BY 
 
 FRANK A. MUNSEY. 
 
 COPYRIGHT 1899, BY 
 G. W. DILLINGHAM CO. 
 
 \All r^ht: reserved.} 
 
 The Man Who Dared.
 
 THE AUTHOR DEDICATES THIS 
 
 NOVEL TO HIS FRIEND. 
 
 M. J. C.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 In justice to himself, the author of the following 
 historical romance is anxious that its readers shall 
 understand that he would never have ventured to write 
 it, if he had known that the great Sardou had chosen 
 the same theme for his wonderful tragedy, "Robes- 
 pierre," which Henry Irving is now playing with such 
 success in London. 
 
 Having always been a delighted reader of French 
 History, he naturally perceived the splendid possibili- 
 ties for an interesting novel which the thrilling events 
 connected with Robespierre's last days of despotism 
 presented. For many months, the plot and incidents 
 of his narrative gradually assumed definite form in his 
 mind, and, when he was called upon to produce a 
 short novel for a current publication, he chose Robes- 
 pierre's downfall as his theme. 
 
 The romance, as it originally appeared, having ex- 
 cited some attention from those who read it, he re- 
 solved to make many radical alterations in the plot, 
 to endue it with greater historical value, and to enlarge 
 it to its present dimensions. In short he has devel- 
 
 [51
 
 6 PREFACE. 
 
 oped a hastily written sketch, into a book of double 
 its size, trusting that the extra study and labor in- 
 volved in the task will not prove to have been spent 
 in vain. 
 
 One merit he can claim for his romance, if no other. 
 He has scrupulously followed the facts and traditions 
 of the period treated, and has taken but few liberties 
 with the really historical personages whom he has de- 
 scribed. If the reader finds other merits in the narra- 
 tive; if he can conscientiously praise it for its realism, 
 plot, or style, the author will feel that his difficult 
 task has been rewarded.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGK 
 
 I. An Interruption to the Ball . . 9 
 
 II. A Man of Mystery . . . .19 
 
 III. Robespierre . . . . .27 
 
 IV. Jean Lou vet 36 
 
 V. At the Rabble's Mercy . . - 45 
 
 VI. A Conference in the Maison Rousseau. 5 3 
 
 VII. Robespierre's Rise to Power . -63 
 
 VIII. Jean Louvet Opens the Game . -77 
 
 IX. Love Conquers Discretion . .87 
 
 X. What Befell Andr6 the Barber . .92 
 
 XI. How it Fared with Simon the Jailer . 102 
 
 XII. The Adventures of Francois the 
 
 Idler 113 
 
 XIII. Face to Face 121 
 
 XIV. A Woman's Sense of Honor . .134 
 XV. Andre Departs on a Mission . .146 
 
 XVI. Simon Experiences a Surprise . .153 
 XVII. Fran9ois Resorts to Strategy . .159 
 XVIII. The Conspirators Report to Their 
 
 Chief 166 
 
 XIX. The Banquet 173 
 
 [7]
 
 8 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTK* PAGI 
 
 XX. The Fatal List . . . . .182 
 
 XXI. Events Crowd and Jostle . . .193 
 
 XXII. The Game Grows Exciting . .202 
 
 XXIII. Among the Condemned . . .209 
 
 XXIV. Chalk Marks that Disappeared . .217 
 XXV. The Sounding Board Ceases to Re- 
 spond 226 
 
 XXVI. Lost Beyond Hope . . . .233 
 XXVII. The Ninth of Thermidor . . .240 
 
 XXVIII. Too Late 249 
 
 XXIX. Within Sight of the Guillotine . .257 
 
 XXX. The Game Still Doubtful . . .267 
 
 XXXI. The Game is Won . . . .277
 
 PB1YATE ilEBABY , 
 JSST, <OFD* > ,7 
 
 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AN INTERRUPTION TO THE BALL. 
 
 IT was during the last days of the Reign of Terror 
 that Representative Alphonse Vauban gave a ball, 
 in his mansion on the Rue Saint Honore, in honor of 
 Robespierre. 
 
 The entire building glared with lights. Every apart- 
 ment from basement to attic was thrown open to the 
 guests, who crowded the dancers in the ballroom, 
 jostled one another on the stairways, and thronged 
 the upper chambers; for, as became a good repub- 
 lican, M. Vauban had invited all Paris to the enter- 
 tainment. 
 
 Tallien was there, and Freron, and Collot d'Herbois 
 and Barras, with other famous revolutionists, min- 
 gling promiscuously with the rabble of citoyens and 
 
 [91
 
 IO THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 their wives in a spirit of equality and fraternity all 
 hobnobbing cheerfully in celebrating the perpetual 
 reign of liberty. 
 
 Cheerfully ? 
 
 Aye, with an enthusiastic gaiety, notwithstanding 
 that dread terror of the guillotine lurked deep in many 
 a heart. 
 
 In an alcove of the ballroom, under a bower of 
 broad-leaved palms, stood M. Vauban with his only 
 daughter, Louise, extending a cordial greeting to the 
 butchers, bakers, and candlestickmakers of Paris 
 whom victorious "Sanscullotism" had raised to their 
 own social level. 
 
 "In the name of the Republic, welcome, citoyen!" 
 he exclaimed heartily, as he shook each citizen by the 
 hand. 
 
 And to each of their wives : 
 
 "My greeting, citoyenne, in the name of liberty !" 
 
 There could be no doubt of M. Vauban's sincerity 
 in expressing himself thus ; for his honest face glowed, 
 and his eyes renewed their sparkle, with each repetition 
 of the words. 
 
 But a close observer might have detected a certain 
 condescending air in the beautiful Louise, which 
 would have justified the suspicion that she considered 
 herself superior to her guests. In her father's hos- 
 pitality there was downright heartiness; in hers a 
 gracious reserve. And this difference was accen- 
 tuated in their attire. 
 
 M. Vauban wore a modest black tail-coat, with high 
 rolling collar, and broad lapels; black cloth knse-
 
 AN INTERRUPTION TO THE BALL. II 
 
 breeches, silk stockings of the same somber hue, and 
 low-cut shoes with plain pewter buckles. 
 
 His daughter, on the other hand, was most sumpt- 
 uously arrayed. A close-fitting bodice of rich silk, 
 cut low in the neck and fastened with a jeweled clasp 
 in front, and a clinging, diaphanous gown showed 
 her exquisitely molded figure to advantage. Costly 
 bracelets encircled her plump, white arms ; a circlet of 
 sparkling brilliants wound round her swan-like neck, 
 and her glorious black hair was bound by bands of 
 gold, and twisted in a Grecian coil behind. 
 
 The critical citoyennes, ever ready to mark the 
 slightest aristocratic tendency in a sister, were quick 
 to discern that, though she smiled sweetly upon them 
 as they passed before her, her luminous, black eyes 
 seemed to look over their heads. She addressed them 
 as her equals, it is true, yet there was an indefinable 
 reservation in her manner which held them at a dis- 
 tance. 
 
 Robed like a princess, and of a refined and noble 
 beauty, it is probable that no amount of condescension 
 on her part could have saved her from their jealous 
 mistrust. 
 
 But, though Louise Vauban was not popular with 
 the women of Paris, she was adored by the men. Rep- 
 resentatives of all political parties Jacobins, Moder- 
 ates, Girondists, Dantonists agreed in calling her a 
 model daughter of the Republic, and even the great 
 Robespierre himself had expressed the opinion that 
 she was an example for all the women of new-born 
 France to follow.
 
 12 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 All men admired her, and many of the younger 
 ones loved her. She had suitors innumerable, among 
 them acknowledged leaders in the affairs of the Re- 
 public, either on the field of battle, or on the floor of 
 the National Convention. 
 
 Many of these suitors hovered round her now, 
 assiduous in their attentions, although they knew that 
 their gallantry was hopeless; for she had given the 
 world plainly to understand that she would never 
 marry. Indeed, she loved her father with an adoration 
 that absorbed all her faculties, and, since the death of 
 her mother, had resolved to devote her life to his 
 happiness. 
 
 Nor was M. Vauban unworthy of her affection. 
 Generous, high minded, brave, he lived for but two 
 objects his daughter and the Republic. His home 
 life was beautiful in its devotion ; his public life noble 
 in its enthusiasm. 
 
 Although an ardent and consistent revolutionist, he 
 was not an extremist in his ideas. He had deprecated 
 the execution of Louis XVI, opposed the acts of the 
 Revolutionary Tribunal, and even challenged the dis- 
 pleasure of Robespierre by protesting against his san- 
 guinary measures. That he still retained the friend- 
 ship of the "Incorruptible One" was due to his hon- 
 esty, rather than his tact. 
 
 It had been announced that Robespierre was to be 
 the honored guest of the evening, and his arrival was 
 momentarily expected; but the hours passed and 
 Robespierre did not come. 
 
 What could be the reason for his absence ? Repre-
 
 AN INTERRUPTION TO THE BALL. 13 
 
 sentatives Tallien and Freron, whispering together in 
 a sheltered corner, remarked upon the circumstance. 
 
 "Robespierre keeps away, it seems," said Tallien. 
 "If he does not drop in to shake hands to-night, let 
 Vauban beware !" 
 
 "You are apprehensive, Tallien," replied Freron re- 
 assuringly. "You must remember that Robespierre 
 has been keeping much to himself of late. He has 
 absented himself from the Committees and has not 
 appeared in the Convention for over a month. Why, 
 then, should he distinguish this gathering with his 
 presence ?" 
 
 "Because he professes to be Vauban's friend. Be- 
 cause this ball is given in his honor." 
 
 "But if he is Vauban's friend, as you say, why, 
 should Vauban beware of him ?" 
 
 "Have you forgotten the fate of Danton?" asked 
 Tallien, in tones of profound solemnity. "Was not 
 Danton Robespierre's friend ?" 
 
 "Mon Dieu, Tallien !" exclaimed Freron, with a 
 shudder, "you positively frighten me. If Robespierre 
 sacrifices Vauban, who of us is safe?" 
 
 "Ah, who indeed?" said Tallien, with an ominous 
 shake of his head. "Certainly neither you nor I, 
 Freron, for Robespierre regards us as his enemies. 
 Let us look the danger squarely in the face, my friend ! 
 This Maximilian Robespierre has grown so mighty of 
 late that he can guillotine whomever he chooses. He 
 is the virtual dictator of France ; for he has so terror- 
 ized the Convention that it is swayed by his absolute 
 will. When he puts a motion, none dare oppose it;
 
 14 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 and, if he should appear in the Convention to-morrow 
 and demand our heads, not a member would protest 
 on our behalf." 
 
 "Then let us thank God he absents himself from the 
 meetings !" exclaimed Freron in frightened tones. 
 
 "And yet," continued Tallien, in a low, appalling 
 whisper, "his very absence bodes us no good. Do 
 you know what is rumored, Freron?" 
 
 The latter cast a terrified glance at his companion, 
 and shook his head. 
 
 "It is reported that Robespierre is meditating a 
 master stroke to rid the Convention of his remaining 
 opponents. You know the process. He will accuse 
 them of treason to the Republic, and hand them over 
 to the Revolutionary Tribunal for trial." 
 
 "And that," interrupted Freron excitedly, "would 
 mean the guillotine for all. Mon Dieu! dare no one 
 denounce this tyrant?" 
 
 "No one," returned Tallien gravely ; "for he is the 
 absolute master in France." 
 
 At that moment an orchestra, concealed behind a 
 screen of palms, broke out into the melodious strains 
 of a brisk minuet, and a space was cleared in the ball- 
 room for those who were to take part in the dance. 
 Louise Vauban left her father's side, and, advancing 
 on the arm of one of her most ardent suitors, tooik 
 her place in the leading set. Others followed her ex- 
 ample; more sets were quickly formed, and, at a sig- 
 nal from the bandmaster, the minuet began. 
 
 To the uncultured citoyens who looked on the 
 artisans and shopkeepers of Paris it was an entranc-
 
 AN INTERRUPTION TO THE BALL. 1$ 
 
 ing spectacle. Unaccustomed as they were to the 
 graceful pleasures of polite society, they formed a 
 gaping circle round the dancers, giving expression to 
 their admiration by rude hand-clappings and shouts of 
 approval. To them it seemed that the golden age of 
 equality had indeed arrived, when high and low, rich 
 and poor, should amuse themselves in common. 
 
 Lights, music, flowers, lovely laughing faces, spar- 
 kling jewels and eyes that outrivalled them in brilliant 
 luster all contributed to the bewitching effect of the 
 picture. In lightly-unerring gyrations, the dancers 
 swam hither and thither, their faces flushed with ex- 
 citement, as their forms swayed gracefully in time 
 to the stirring music. They put forth their best efforts 
 to win the applause of the onlookers, but, though they 
 danced well, none approached Louise Vauban in vi- 
 vacity and charm. 
 
 Behold how her pretty foot darts down an inch from 
 her partner's ! And now she is off again ; she is as a 
 flash of light. Like a glittering comet she travels her 
 ellipse, radiant, fascinating, beautiful. Happiness is 
 in her smile, and delight in the gleam of her dark eyes. 
 
 Those who beheld her in that triumphant, joyous 
 mood, afterwards declared that they had never seen 
 any one so light-hearted. Her flow of spirits was so 
 exuberant that it was contagious; and, all uncon- 
 sciously, the faces of the spectators glowed, and their 
 eyes brightened with sympathetic merriment, as they 
 followed her movements. 
 
 Suddenly a harsh voice broke in upon the music, 
 and vague terror filled every heart.
 
 l6 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "Is Citizen Vauban present ?" 
 
 All eyes were turned toward the speaker, and a 
 profound hush fell upon the assemblage, when they 
 beheld an officer of the Municipal Gendarmes stand- 
 ing in the doorway of the ballroom. 
 
 "Is Citizen Vauban present?" he repeated. 
 
 M. Vauban left the group of friends with whom he 
 was conversing, and advanced toward the intruder 
 with a courteous bow. 
 
 "I am Vauban," he said calmly ; "what do you wish 
 of me?" 
 
 "I have a warrant for your arrest as a suspect," 
 replied the officer curtly. "Come, do not keep my 
 men waiting, for they have other work to do." 
 
 While speaking he motioned toward the hall, where 
 six stalwart gendarmes were awaiting his command. 
 For a moment M. Vauban's face paled ; then, turning 
 toward his guests with an air of exquisite good breed- 
 ing, he said tranquilly : 
 
 "The Republic requires my presence elsewhere, 
 friends; but do not let my absence damp your pleas- 
 ures. Continue to enjoy yourselves, and I shall be 
 well content." 
 
 Before the murmur of admiration aroused by these 
 words had subsided, his daughter swept majestically 
 across the ballroom and confronted the officer. 
 
 "So you have come to arrest my father?" she cried, 
 with flashing eyes. "By whose order, pray? Produce 
 your warrant!" 
 
 The officer drew from his pocket a folded document
 
 AN INTERRUPTION TO THE BALL. I/ 
 
 and placed it in her hands. With trembling fingers 
 she opened it and ran her eyes over its contents. 
 
 It was an order for the arrest of Representative Al- 
 phonse Vauban, issued by the Committee of Public 
 Safety in session that very evening. Realizing at once 
 that her beloved father was doomed, she tore the docu- 
 ment in fragments and stamped upon the pieces. 
 Then, taking her stand in front of him, and drawing 
 herself up to her full height: 
 
 "Be gone !" she cried in ringing tones, as she point- 
 ed dramatically toward the door. 
 
 The officer hesitated, while a faint hum of approba- 
 tion arose from the assembled guests. 
 
 ''Louise !" entreated her father gently. "Would you 
 insult the dignity of the Republic ? If my arrest has 
 been ordered, my dear child, I would be the last to 
 oppose the authorities. Come, embrace me and let 
 me go !" 
 
 His words had the effect of inspiring the officer to 
 action. In the performance of his daily duty, he had 
 become accustomed to scenes like this, and had 
 learned that promptness and severity were the only 
 effectual means of ending them. So he signaled to 
 his men to come forward and do their duty. 
 
 Immediately the six gendarmes entered the ball- 
 room silently, and laid rude hands on the beautiful girl. 
 She struggled like a tigress in their grasp, crying out 
 to her lovers and admirers : 
 
 "Will you see me insulted, friends? Will no one 
 come to my assistance?"
 
 18 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 In the meantime the officer beckoned to M. Vau- 
 ban, who, casting a look of indescribable yearning 
 upon his child, bowed his head submissively and 
 quietly left the house.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A MAN OF MYSTERY. 
 
 ON seeing M. Vauban in the custody of their of- 
 ficer, the gendarmes unhanded Louise, and followed 
 them into the street. The frantic girl took a few steps 
 after them, and then, realizing how utterly futile any 
 attempt to join her father would be, turned and stag- 
 gered back into the ballroom. 
 
 She was conscious of a hundred pallid faces turned 
 upon her with looks of blended consternation and 
 pity ; of the suppressed hum of excited conversation ; 
 then a mist enveloped her senses, and she sank down 
 upon the floor in a swoon. 
 
 When she recovered consciousness, and looked 
 around, she observed that the guests, who, but a short 
 time before, were applauding her grace and beauty to 
 the skies, were now quietly and stealthily taking their 
 departure hurrying away with terror in their hearts 
 from that ill-omened house. 
 
 "Take heart, deary !" a kind voice whispered in her 
 ear. "Remember Robespierre is your father's friend 
 and will doubtless save him." 
 
 Louise glanced up into the speaker's face, and saw 
 that it was that of Marie, her faithful maid, who had 
 hastened to her assistance
 
 20 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Under her skilful ministrations the girl quickly re- 
 vived, and, as she gradually regained control of her 
 faculties, was inspired with a desperate resolution. 
 
 "Assist me to arise, Marie," she murmured, "and 
 support me while I speak to our guests." 
 
 The faithful creature obeyed, and, helping her mis- 
 tress to the middle of the great ballroom, wound an 
 arm around her waist and sustained her drooping 
 figure. 
 
 "Do not desert me yet, friends," she began faintly ; 
 "for there are some among you to whom I would 
 like to address a few words." 
 
 If she was beautiful in the moment of her triumph- 
 ant happiness, she appeared far lovelier now in the 
 moment of her supreme despair. In the struggle with 
 the gendarmes, her magnificent hair had escaped 
 from the bands which confined it, and hung in lux- 
 uriant, wavy tresses over her fair shoulders ; her face 
 was as white as alabaster and infinitely pathetic in 
 the hopelessness of its expression; while her dark 
 eyes were soft, liquid, and appealing, like those of a 
 sorrowing angel. 
 
 Casting them over the cowering creatures about 
 her, as if in search of one true friend, she continued in 
 stronger tones: 
 
 "Many here have protested love for me ; some have 
 even sworn that they would regard it a privilege to 
 die for me; but hitherto I have loved no man. I 
 had vowed to give all my love to my father. But," 
 she added with sudden energy, "to the man who will 
 save him from the guillotine, I swear to be an obedi-
 
 A MAN OF MYSTERY. 21 
 
 ent, loving slave to the day of my death. To that 
 man I will give myself, my love, my fortune, most 
 willingly." 
 
 She paused and cast another look around, as if ex- 
 pecting to see a dozen suitors spring forward to accept 
 her challenge; but not a single man responded. At 
 last her eyes rested upon the face of her late partner 
 in the minuet, General Juvenal, a gallant young soldier 
 of rising fame in the Revolutionary Army. 
 
 "What, Juvenal !" she cried, "can you remain silent 
 after your ardent vows of love to me during the dance ? 
 Did you not lay your heart and life at my feet?" 
 
 Thus directly appealed to, the young general turned 
 white and smiled faintly. 
 
 "My heart and life, it is true, mademoiselle; but 
 not my honor," he answered. 
 
 And, with these words, he left the room. 
 
 Louise broke into a scornful laugh. 
 
 "And yet he claimed to love me !" she cried with a 
 bitter sneer. 
 
 Then, observing another of her suitors standing in 
 the alcove of a window, she called out : 
 
 "But there stands the gallant D'Espernay, the friend 
 who swore he would go to the guillotine, if I should 
 ask him. Come, D'Espernay, will you endeavor to 
 save my father?" 
 
 The man addressed trembled slightly at having his 
 vain boast brought home to him before so many, and 
 stammered out this lame excuse: 
 
 "However willingly I would die for you, Made- 
 moiselle Vauban, I am, nevertheless, a loyal son of
 
 22 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 the Republic. If your father has failed in his duty, 
 I must respectfully decline to interfere on his behalf." 
 
 And D'Espernay also left the room. 
 
 Again Louise broke out in laughter, only this time 
 more bitterly and hysterically than before. 
 
 "Why, surely," she exclaimed, "this is the very 
 golden age of knight-errantry! And you, M. Vil- 
 leneuve, what have you to say to my appeal?" she 
 cried a moment after, as she caught sight of still an- 
 other of her lovers endeavoring to steal unobserved 
 into the hall. 
 
 M. Villeneuve shot a frightened glance over his 
 shoulder, and never paused to make answer. 
 
 Louise did not laugh this time, for she realized that 
 she was utterly abandoned. Grim terror of Robes- 
 pierre and his ever-active guillotine had evidently de- 
 prived all men of their bravery, and even love itself 
 had become a slave of fear. 
 
 In order that the reader may understand this scene, 
 a few words of explanation will be necessary. During 
 the Reign of Terror, when Robespierre was at the 
 height of his power, no man in France could say with 
 confidence that his head was safe. The "Law of the 
 Suspect" was enforced with tremendous vigor, and to 
 be arrested on suspicion meant almost certain death. 
 
 Nor was it necessary to commit some overt act 
 against the Republic for one to fall within the scope 
 of this iniquitous measure. Men and women were 
 guillotined for simply expressing a kindly sympathy 
 for the condemned. To weep for a victim of the guil-
 
 A MAN OF MYSTERY. 23 
 
 lotine, even if the unfortunate person was a near and 
 dear relative, was equivalent to courting death. 
 
 Every day, at sunset, the tumbrils, filled with vic- 
 tims, wound their way slowly through the streets of 
 Paris, from the Conciergerie Prison to the place of 
 execution. The guillotine reared its horrible frame 
 over the land, and all men trembled in its shadow. 
 
 "Lead me away, Marie," moaned poor Louise 
 faintly, "I can expect no succor here; all my friends 
 have deserted me. Oh, my poor, poor father ! What 
 can I do to save you?" 
 
 Marie conducted her into a small apartment, adjoin- 
 ing the ballroom, and laid her gently on a sofa. Then 
 she went up into the banquet hall to procure wine 
 and cakes for her refreshment. While returning from 
 this errand, she passed the last of the frightened guests, 
 hurrying toward the door that communicated with 
 the street, and was so enraged at their cowardice that 
 she abused them roundly to their faces. 
 
 "Ye scurvy knaves!" she cried, "may the curse of 
 Heaven rest on ye for the way ye have treated my 
 master !" 
 
 But, on reaching the side of her young mistress, she, 
 became as gentle and tender as a child. With words 
 of encouragement and hope, she pressed her to eat 
 and drink so earnestly that Louise had not the heart 
 to refuse her. 
 
 "And now, deary," said Marie, when her mistress 
 had partaken of some nourishment, "I will take you 
 upstairs to your room, and put you to bed ; for you 
 must sleep to gain strength for to-morrow. Then,
 
 24 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 bright and early in the morning, we'll go to Robes- 
 pierre together, and I have no doubt, when he hears 
 of this outrage, he will have your good father set 
 free." 
 
 With these words, she put her arms lovingly around 
 the girl's waist, and helped her to rise from the sofa. 
 Then, for the first time, they became conscious of the 
 presence of a third person. 
 
 A young man of a frank, noble countenance, was 
 standing in the doorway, in an attitude of profound re- 
 spect, regarding them with deep interest. 
 
 Seeing that the women started back affrighted on 
 beholding him, he reassured them with a pleasant 
 smile, and said, bowing politely : 
 
 "Pardon my intrusion! I am a friend who desires 
 to render you a service." 
 
 "A friend, monsieur?" exclaimed Louise in aston- 
 ishment. "Why, I do not even know you!" 
 
 "True," answered the unknown in a low, musical 
 voice; "but, Mademoiselle Vauban, you are well 
 known to me. I have long admired you from a dis- 
 tance, conscious that I was utterly unworthy of your 
 acquaintance. Nor would I have ever presumed to 
 seek this interview, were it not for the hope I enter- 
 tain of aiding you." 
 
 Louise examined the stranger's countenance more 
 closely, and was struck with the sincerity it expressed. 
 The open brow, the finely-chiseled features, the firm 
 mouth and chin, and the piercing, blue eyes inspired 
 her with a feeling of confidence ; and yet how could
 
 " PARDON MY INTRUSION ! I AM A FRIEND WHO .DE- 
 SIRES TO RENDER YOU A SERVICE." Page 24.
 
 A MAN OF MYSTERY. 2$ 
 
 this obscure young man assist her in her present des- 
 perate emergency? 
 
 "Monsieur," she said, "I thank you for your offer; 
 but I fear that my case is beyond your help." 
 
 "That remains to be seen," replied the unknown. 
 "Let me explain myself, mademoiselle! I am an ob- 
 scure person, it is true, and yet I have resources which 
 the greatest men might envy. Being acquainted with 
 your father, I came here at his invitation to-night. I 
 was a witness to his iniquitous arrest, and to the 
 brutal treatment you received at the hands of the gen- 
 darmes. My heart prompted me to rush to your 
 rescue, but had I done so all would have been lost. 
 
 "I was present in the ballroom, mademoiselle, when 
 you appealed to your craven-hearted admirers to save 
 your father's life. I saw them desert you one by one, 
 and then vowed that I would champion your cause 
 myself. 
 
 "Understand, mademoiselle," he continued with 
 rare delicacy, "it was not your offer of yourself and 
 fortune that prompted me to this resolution. It was 
 the deep love and respect I have for you, nothing 
 more. Having come to this determination, therefore, 
 I lingered behind, until the other guests had departed, 
 and I could' see you alone. And now, Mademoiselle 
 Vauban, allow me to place myself at your disposal." 
 
 Utterly amazed at the generosity of this offer, the 
 girl remained for a while silent. It seemed so odd 
 that she should be befriended by a total stranger, 
 at a time when even those who professed to love her
 
 26 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 had failed her, that her mind was completely bewil- 
 dered. Observing this, the stranger quietly resumed : 
 
 "I am not surprised, mademoiselle, that you should 
 doubt the sincerity of my offer, or my ability to save 
 your father's life. Nevertheless, I assure you that I 
 am worthy of your trust, and am by no means as pow- 
 erless as I appear." 
 
 "But who are you?" asked Louise. "What is your 
 name ?" 
 
 The stranger fixed upon her a look of deep signifi- 
 cance, and replied ambiguously : 
 
 "I am known as Jean Lou vet, and am at present an 
 humble Representative in the National Convention." 
 
 "And your politics?" asked Louise. "Are you a 
 Jacobin ?" 
 
 "My politics," replied the unknown, striking upon 
 his breast with his palm, "are kept locked up here." 
 
 The girl pondered a moment doubtfully, and then, 
 overwhelmed with an emotion of sudden gratitude, 
 stretched forth her hand impulsively to the young man, 
 with the fervent exclamation : 
 
 "I trust you, M. Louvet, and gratefully accept your 
 brave offer! God grant you may not lose your own 
 head in trying to save my father's !" 
 
 He raised the hand she gave him to his lips and 
 kissed it reverently. 
 
 "If I perish in your service, mademoiselle, I shall 
 be well content," he answered. 
 
 And, with these words, departed from her presence.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ROBESPIERRE. 
 
 ON the morning following the ball at M. Vauban's, 
 the great Robespierre arose from the bed on which he 
 had tossed through a restless night, and, going over 
 to a window that opened upon the Rue Saint Honore, 
 drew aside the curtains and looked out. 
 
 The hot July sun was already high in the heavens, 
 beating down upon the roofs and pavements of Paris 
 with fierce intensity. 
 
 "How my poor head aches !" he muttered, passing 
 a long hand tremulously across his sallow brow. "I 
 feel weak and sick from lack of sleep, and yet I never 
 was in such sore need of all my strength and resolu- 
 tion. The Republic is threatened, and I alone can 
 preserve it. And yet, how ?" 
 
 He turned from the window with an exclamation of 
 impatience and despair. 
 
 "Faugh! I am heartily sick of it all!" he cried. 
 "The guillotine! It is ever the guillotine by which 
 the cause of liberty must be advanced. The guillotine 
 for one's friends even !" 
 
 The tears started to his eyes, as he paced nervously 
 back and forth between the door of his chamber and 
 the window, combating with his emotions. 
 
 [27]
 
 28 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "Poor Vauban !" he exclaimed in a choked voice. 
 Would that I could save you! But the Republic re- 
 quires your head, and, dear friend though you be, you 
 must perish." 
 
 His yellow, bloodshot eyes gleamed with fanaticism 
 as he uttered these words, and his thin lips closed 
 together in an expression of grim resolve. He em- 
 ployed the ensuing quarter of an hour in dressing 
 himself with scrupulous neatness, and then rang for 
 his breakfast. 
 
 The meal, which consisted of a single roll, an egg, 
 and a pot of coffee, was brought into the room by his 
 landlord, an humble cabinetmaker who loved him de- 
 votedly. 
 
 "I trust you slept well during the night," re- 
 marked this individual with extreme solicitude, as he 
 placed the frugal repast on the table at which his illus- 
 trious tenant had seated himself. 
 
 "If I did not," replied Robespierre, with a sickly 
 smile, "it was because my mind was busy in devising 
 plans for the happiness of our beloved country." 
 
 "Ah, Monsieur Robespierre!" returned the cabinet- 
 maker admiringly, "you think too little of yourself. 
 You are too self-sacrificing." 
 
 Robespierre frowned. 
 
 "You forget yourself, my friend, in addressing me 
 as Monsieur," he said sternly. "You should remember 
 that I am simply Citizen Robespierre, the brother 
 of all true Frenchmen. It is a title in which I glory, 
 and you should not deprive me of it. As to sacrificing 
 myself for the Republic," he added with ardor, "it is
 
 ROBESPIERRE. 2Q 
 
 no more than my plain duty. If the Commonwealth 
 should require my head to-morrow, I would gladly 
 give it up ; or" and here his voice trembled slightly 
 "if it is necessary to the public welfare that I should 
 send my dearest friends to the guillotine, I will not 
 hesitate to do so." 
 
 He paused to sip his coffee reflectively, while the 
 cabinetmaker stood by, regarding him with adoring 
 reverence. Indeed, it was small wonder that this enig- 
 matical man commanded the affections and confidence 
 of all men of his landlord's class; for he was simple 
 and democratic in his habits, poor, despite his great 
 power and influence, and outspoken in his utterances 
 against oppression. 
 
 Although no greater tyrant ever lived, he did not 
 oppress the poor and humble, but retained his sway 
 over their hearts by professing to act always in their 
 interest. Occupying humble lodgings, when he might 
 have resided in a palace, he appeared to them as the 
 ideal ruler of a Commonwealth founded upon the prin- 
 ciples of liberty, equality, and brotherhood, and so 
 they granted him their unqualified support. 
 
 Realizing from his tenant's abstracted manner that 
 he desired to be alone, the cabinetmaker was in the 
 act of withdrawing quietly from the room, when a 
 servant appeared in the doorway. 
 
 "Two women are waiting below to have a word 
 with you, Citizen Robespierre," she announced. 
 
 "Do you know who they are?" he asked suspicious- 
 ly ; for ever since the assassination of his friend, Marat,
 
 3O THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 by Charlotte Corday, he was cautious in granting in- 
 terviews to strangers. 
 
 "Yes," answered the servant, "I know them. They 
 are Citizeness Vauban and her maid." 
 
 Robespierre's sallow face darkened. 
 
 "Faugh!" he exclaimed, in tones of annoyance. "I 
 know what their visit means. They have come to 
 plead with me to spare Citizen Vauban. But it is use- 
 less ; it is necessary that he should die." 
 
 He arose from the table with an air of vexation, and 
 resumed his pacing of the apartment. It was evident 
 that the thought of meeting his visitors disturbed him 
 greatly. 
 
 "Why will not people leave me alone in the per- 
 formance of my duty?" he exclaimed. "Why must I 
 be tortured by appeals to my sympathies? It would 
 be, perhaps, best to refuse this audience, since it can 
 only result in pain. And yet," he added, running his 
 long fingers through his hair distractedly, "if I refuse 
 to receive these women, my motives will be cruelly 
 misjudged. I will be accused of sending my friend, 
 Vauban, to the guillotine through sheer envy and 
 malice." 
 
 As he uttered these words, the lines of his face hard- 
 ened suddenly, and, turning to the servant with an im- 
 perious gesture, he said coldly : 
 
 "Show the women into my parlor, and tell them 
 I will be with them presently." 
 
 When the servant had departed, Robespierre went 
 over to a wardrobe, and took from it a sky-blue coat, 
 a white-silk waistcoat embroidered with silver, a pair
 
 ROBESPIERRE. 31 
 
 of black silk breeches, white silk stockings, and a pair 
 of delicately formed shoes with buckles of gold. For, 
 in spite of his democratic principles, he was by nature 
 a dandy, who always appeared neatly and elegantly at- 
 tired. In fact, vanity in dress was his prevailing weak- 
 ness, leading some to suspect that the "Sanscullotism" 
 he professed was not altogether sincere. 
 
 Having carefully arrayed himself in these garments, 
 he surveyed his person in the mirror with an air of ex- 
 treme satisfaction, and then walked briskly into the 
 little parlor where the ladies were awaiting him. 
 
 "To what may I attribute the honor of this unex- 
 pected visit, Citizeness Vauban?" he asked, as he ad- 
 vanced toward them with a polite bow. 
 
 Louise regarded him for a moment with a searching 
 look, and replied, evasively: 
 
 "You did not attend our ball last night, M. Robes- 
 pierre, although it was given in your honor. Why 
 did you absent yourself? Has my father offended 
 you?" 
 
 These unexpected inquiries, accompanied as they 
 were by a glance which seemed to penetrate the deep- 
 est recesses of his soul, brought a blush to the tyrant's 
 sallow face. He managed to retain his composure, 
 however, and answered: 
 
 "My time is not always at my disposal, Citizeness 
 Vauban. I am a servant of the Republic, you must 
 remember." 
 
 "And yet," went on Louise, still keeping her beauti- 
 ful eyes intently fixed on his countenance, "it is to be 
 regretted that you did not honor us with your pres-
 
 32 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 ence last night, for you might have prevented a most 
 wicked outrage." 
 
 "An outrage?" stammered Robespierre, with an 
 attempt to appear astonished. 'What do you mean?" 
 
 "Simply this," replied Louise, in calm, deliberate 
 tones. "During the height of the festivities last night, 
 a company of gendarmes entered our house like so 
 many bandits, and dragged your friend, my father, off 
 to prison. If you had been there, M. Robespierre, you 
 would doubtless have saved him," she added iron- 
 ically. 
 
 The crafty tyrant was fully aware of the irony in her 
 last words, but it suited his purpose to ignore it. 
 
 "What! my friend Vauban arrested?" he cried, as- 
 suming an air of surprise. "And by whose order, 
 pray?" 
 
 Still looking him steadily in the face, Louise an- 
 swered slowly : 
 
 "By order of the Committee of Public Safety, of 
 which you are a privileged member." 
 
 At this the wily Robespierre suddenly affected an 
 air of alarm and solicitude. 
 
 "Why, the affair must be serious," he said gravely. 
 "If the Committee of Public Safety ordered your 
 father's arrest, it must be for some excellent reason. 
 It must be that he has failed in his duty to the Re- 
 public." 
 
 "Indeed ?" sneered the girl bitterly. "If that be so, 
 M. Robespierre, it appears to me that you, his friend, 
 should know of it," Then suddenly casting aside all
 
 ROBESPIERRE. 33 
 
 > 
 
 hypocrisy, she addressed these bold words to the ty- 
 rant: 
 
 "It is useless for you to pretend ignorance of this 
 affair, M. Robespierre, for it was you yourself who 
 caused my father's arrest. In some way he has of- 
 fended you. How, I do not pretend to know. He has 
 lost the protection of your friendship, and is now a 
 prisoner in La Force. I did not come here to inform 
 you of something you already know, but to appeal to 
 the generosity of your nature." 
 
 She rose from her seat, and flung herself on her 
 knees at the tyrant's feet. 
 
 "Oh, my dear, good, kind M. Robespierre!" she 
 cried, in heartrending tones; "do not let me appeal to 
 you in vain. If my father has offended you in any 
 way, believe me, it was not through intention. He 
 has always loved and respected you, believing that 
 you were his dearest friend. Prove now, that you 
 deserve his trust and affection by saving him from the 
 guillotine. You are great, you are all-powerful, and 
 one word from you will be sufficient. Oh, say that 
 you will save him, and keep my heart from breaking !" 
 
 During the whole of this passionate entreaty, Robes- 
 pierre kept his face averted from that of the girl, as 
 if fearful that his resolution would give way before 
 her beauty. When she paused for his answer, he 
 turned upon her a troubled look and said, with forced 
 calmness : 
 
 "You overrate my power, Citizeness Vauban. I am 
 but an humble Representative of the people." 
 
 "Yet one whose mere word is absolute law in
 
 34 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 France," cried Louise. "Oh, I beseech you to exert 
 your power to save my dear father !" 
 
 "But if he is guilty ?" returned Robespierre. "Would 
 you have me save him then?" 
 
 "Guilty? My father guilty?'' almost screamed the 
 girl. "Of what crime does he stand accused? It is 
 said he is a suspect. Suspected of what? Dare any 
 one accuse him of treason to the Republic? Why, 
 such an idea is monstrous; his whole life has been 
 devoted to the cause of liberty.'* 
 
 "You plead for him eloquently," said Robespierre, 
 beginning to soften. 
 
 "Because my entreaties are prompted by love," 
 sighed Louise. "And yet," she added despairingly, 
 "of what avail are any words of mine? It was only 
 last night, M. Robespierre, that I appealed to those 
 who professed to love me; who had even sworn that 
 they would die for me. I offered myself as the loving 
 and obedient slave forever to the one who would save 
 my father. Yes, I vowed that I would give myself, 
 my heart, my fortune to the man who would rescue 
 him from death ; but it was in vain. One by one they 
 deserted me, and I was left disconsolate and alone." 
 
 "And does your offer still hold good?" asked 
 Robespierre, in eager, tremulous tones. 
 
 "It still holds good," she answered, looking up into 
 his face with hope and fear in her eyes. 
 
 The maid, Marie, who had been a silent witness of 
 this strange scene, observed that a remarkable change 
 had now overspread Robespierre's somber visage. 
 For a brief moment it was transfigured by an expres-
 
 ROBESPIERRE. 35 
 
 sion of infinite longing. There was a wondrous soft- 
 ness in the look that he fixed upon the girl at his feet, 
 and a happy smile parted his thin lips. 
 
 The anxious maid was beginning to hope that her 
 mistress had triumphed over his determination, when 
 the tyrant turned away with a sigh that seemed to rise 
 from his heart's depths, and, bowing his head upon 
 his breast, muttered sternly : 
 
 "Robespierre, no weakness." 
 
 When he turned toward her mistress a moment 
 later, his bilious face was of a livid, greenish hue, and 
 inflexible in the resolution it expressed. 
 
 "Come, Citizeness Vauban," he cried, in a hoarse, 
 hollow voice, "let us put an end to this painful inter- 
 view ! If your father is innocent, it will appear at his 
 trial. If he is guilty, neither you, nor I should raise 
 a finger to save him. The Revolutionary Tribunal 
 will decide his fate." 
 
 And, turning on his heel, he hurried from the room. 
 
 "Oh, merciful God!" moaned the wretched Louise. 
 "My dear father is lost beyond all hope." 
 
 Marie put her arm gently around her waist and 
 whispered : 
 
 "Do not despair, my dear mistress. Let us trust 
 to the promise of the stranger."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 JEAN LOU VET. 
 
 WHILE this scene was being enacted in the humble 
 lodgings of Robespierre, another, of an equally dra- 
 matic character, was taking place in the hall of the 
 National Convention. St. Just one of Robespierre's 
 closest friends, and a member of the Revolutionary 
 Tribunal had ascended the tribune to propose a 
 measure instigated by his chief, when an obscure Rep- 
 resentative arose from his seat, and shouted in tones 
 that rang through the building like the notes of a 
 bugle : 
 
 "I call upon all true Frenchmen to hear me!" 
 
 St. Just raised his eyes in astonishment from the 
 written speech he was about to deliver ; the members 
 all turned inquiring looks toward the speaker; while 
 President Thuriot extended a hand toward the bell on 
 his desk to ring for order. Before he could give the 
 signal, however, the new voice cried out: 
 
 "The time has arrived, my brothers, for this Con- 
 vention to assert its independence. The citizen who 
 is about to address you is but the servile tool of your 
 oppressor the mouthpiece of the absent Robespierre. 
 He comes here to propose a measure devised by his 
 
 [3*1
 
 JEAN LOUVET. 37 
 
 master. He believes you will all vote for it through 
 fear of the man he represents. But will you ?" 
 
 He paused and cast a look around the hall, where 
 the drop of a pin could have been heard in the pro- 
 found silence that reigned. President Thuriot seized 
 his bell and rang it violently; but its clanging was 
 drowned in the speaker's vibrant voice, as he resumed, 
 with a gesture of defiance : 
 
 "You cannot ring me down, sir; I am determined 
 to be heard. It has long been apparent that this as- 
 sembly is spellbound with terror of one man. His 
 will is its law. No one dare oppose him. No one, 
 did I say? Ah, in that I was mistaken; for I, Jean 
 Louvet, dare to raise my voice against him. Yes, 
 on the floor of this Convention, that is ruled by the 
 will of Robespierre, I denounce him as a tyrant and 
 demand his accusation !" 
 
 Again you might have heard a pin drop, so silent 
 was the hall. 
 
 President Thuriot laid down his bell, and sank back 
 in his chair aghast. Men looked into each other's 
 faces, and saw there, as in a mirror, the terror of their 
 own hearts imaged in pallid hues. And yet the major- 
 ity of Representatives present were in secret sympathy 
 with the speaker. 
 
 It was a moment of supreme suspense. 
 
 How would the scales move for, or against, Robes- 
 pierre ? One resolute word was sufficient to decide the 
 issue, and this word was spoken, but, unfortunately, 
 by St. Just.
 
 38 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Realizing that a tremendous crisis was impending, 
 he called out contemptuously : 
 
 "Why, the man is mad !" Then, turning to Thuriot, 
 he added, in tones loud enough for all to hear: "I 
 appeal to you, Mr. President, to have this disorderly 
 person removed from the hall, so that we may proceed 
 with our business undisturbed." 
 
 These timely words turned the scales in Robes- 
 pierre's favor. Representatives of all political parties 
 sprang to their feet, shaking their fists at Jean Louvet, 
 and hurling threats and denunciations at his head. 
 The Jacobin members filled the place with tremendous 
 shouts of "Vive Robespierre! Vive la Republique!" 
 while the rabble in the galleries roared approval. 
 
 In the midst of this storm, Jean Louvet stood calm 
 and intrepid. His youthful face had become pale, but 
 not through fear. It was because he realized that his 
 daring had failed, and that he must abandon all hope 
 of aid from the Convention. 
 
 "Cowards !" he muttered despairingly. "If you had 
 had the heart to support my motion, the tyrant would 
 have perished and M. Vauban's head been saved. I 
 took you for freemen; but have learned that you are 
 slaves. Well, so be it ! As slaves and cowards I will 
 henceforth treat you." 
 
 He cast a haughty look up at the roaring galleries, 
 a contemptuous glance upon his fellow Represent- 
 atives, and, with a bow of mock reverence to the Presi- 
 dent, turned on his heel and left the Convention Hall. 
 
 On reaching the street, he walked briskly in the 
 direction of the Faubourg St. Antoine whose narrow
 
 JEAN LOUVET. 39 
 
 alleys and ramshackle tenements sheltered the very 
 lowest class of citizens and never paused, until he 
 reached the door of a little wine shop which stood 
 crowded between two toppling rookeries. Entering 
 this dingy den, with the swagger of an old habitue, he 
 called for a bottle of wine, and took a seat at a table 
 in a corner. 
 
 For fully two hours he sat there, sipping from his 
 glass gingerly, and meditating in sullen silence. 
 
 What was the nature of his reflections? 
 
 To reveal them would be to anticipate the events of 
 this story. It will be sufficient to state, therefore, that 
 during those hours of silent pondering, Jean Louvet 
 had determined upon a plan of action. He had sat 
 down at the table despairing; he arose with hope in 
 his heart ; and, going over to the chair in which mine 
 host sat dozing, aroused him with a gentle shake and 
 asked : 
 
 "Has Simon the Jailer been in to-day?" 
 
 "Not yet," was the sleepy answer; "but he'll be sure 
 to drop in this evening." 
 
 "Good !" exclaimed Louvet, heartily ; adding, "When 
 you see him, tell him that he is wanted. Can you 
 remember that message?" 
 
 "Aye," answered mine host; "but who shall I say 
 wants him?" 
 
 "Oh, that is immaterial ; he will understand." 
 
 The young man fixed his eyes upon a rude painting 
 of the Bastille that hung upon the wall, and examined 
 it with apparent interest. Then he turned again to 
 the landlord and asked carelessly:
 
 4O THE MAN TVHO DARED. 
 
 "And Andre the Barber; he also frequents your 
 house, does he not?" 
 
 "He cornes here every evening." 
 
 "Then there is another customer of yours, named 
 Frangois, who does nothing to earn his bread. When 
 do you expect to see him again ?" 
 
 "Ah, that idler spends most of his time here." 
 
 "Well, you may tell them both they are wanted." 
 
 And, without deigning to notice the curiosity his 
 words had excited in the landlord, Louvet walked out 
 of the wine shop. 
 
 A few steps brought him to a little square, where 
 a crowd of poor wretches had gathered to listen to 
 the violent utterances of a Jacobin demagogue who 
 was spouting the praises of Robespierre. 
 
 Fierce looking men, in red caps and fustian jackets, 
 and bloated, disheveled women crowded eagerly 
 around the speaker, blocking the way so completely 
 that it was almost impossible to pass. Louvet was 
 about to turn into an alley to escape the throng, when 
 he heard that which made him pause. 
 
 The demagogue was denouncing M. Vauban. 
 
 He was giving his audience a graphic description of 
 the ball of the previous night, and drawing his own 
 conclusions as to its significance. He accused M. 
 Vauban of being an aristocrat at heart, whose pro- 
 fessions of republicanism were hypocritical. The en- 
 tertainment, he said, was proof positive of this, for it 
 w r as princely in its magnificence and display. A true 
 republican would never have indulged in such vain 
 luxury*
 
 JEAN LOUVET. 4t 
 
 The incorruptible Robespierre, however, had seen 
 through the designs of the traitor. He had recognized 
 that M. Vauban wished to excite others to emulate 
 his grandeur, and so undermine the principles of lib- 
 erty, equality, and fraternity upon which the fabric of 
 the Republic had been built. Therefore, Robespierre 
 had caused M. Vauban's arrest, and he was now a 
 prisoner in La Force, awaiting, in fear and trembling, 
 the decree that would send him to the guillotine. 
 
 Pausing a moment, until the savage howl of ap- 
 proval which followed this announcement had sub- 
 sided, the demagogue changed the theme of his 
 harangue. 
 
 He now called his hearers' attention to the scene in 
 the Convention that morning. Louvet could not re- 
 strain a smile, on hearing himself described as a mean 
 and cowardly traitor who had tried to instigate his 
 associates to rebellion. His smile broadened when he 
 heard the demagogue declare that he was an assassin 
 who wished to murder the great Robespierre. 
 
 But his face sobered and his heart sank, a moment 
 afterwards, when the Jacobin informed his hearers that 
 Jean Louvet had been accused of treason on leaving 
 the Convention Hall, and that a price had been set upon 
 his head. 
 
 As he was well known in the Faubourg St. Antoine, 
 where he had posed as an ardent revolutionist, he 
 instantly realized the danger of his position. Although 
 sent to the Convention from a remote district of 
 FYance, he had associated extensively with the lower 
 classes in Paris, and especially with the residents of
 
 42 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 St. Antoine. In fact, it would be impossible for him 
 to travel through its shortest street without encounter- 
 ing an acquaintance. Yet, here he was, in the very 
 heart of the Faubourg, surrounded by a crowd of its 
 inhabitants. 
 
 What should he do? 
 
 For a moment he was so overcome with terror that 
 it was impossible for him to come to a decision. Rec- 
 ognition at that moment meant certain destruction ; 
 for the savage people around him, lashed to fury by 
 the Jacobin, would tear him limb from limb on the 
 spot. 
 
 Fortunately, however, the attention of every one 
 in the crowd was just now riveted upon the speaker, 
 and Jean Louvet had a chance to collect his wits. 
 Realizing the necessity of leaving the perilous spot at 
 once, he drew off quietly from the outskirts of the 
 throng, and glided stealthily into a narrow alley. 
 
 "It is probable," he thought, "that the news of my 
 doings in the Convention is not widely known as yet. 
 If I can only escape from this neighborhood, all may 
 still be well." 
 
 He increased his gait to a brisk walk. Every step 
 that took him further from the crowd added to his 
 hope and confidence. He passed by several strag- 
 glers, but fortunately they were strangers. 
 
 All at once he came within sight of another little 
 square, and was dismayed to see that here also a 
 crowd had gathered. For what purpose ? A few steps 
 nearer settled all doubts; for he beheld a second 
 Jacobin orator, mounted upon the top of a wine cask,
 
 JEAN LOUVET. 43 
 
 addressing the throng in a hoarse, bawling voice, ac- 
 companied by the wildest gestures. 
 
 With a fluttering heart Jean Louvet crept nearer, 
 until he could hear each word the fellow uttered. The 
 Jacobin was denouncing him as a traitor. Like the 
 demagogue he had previously heard, this speaker was 
 describing to his hearers the occurrences in the Con- 
 vention that morning, calling upon them to support 
 the incorruptible Robespierre, and to crush all his 
 opponents. 
 
 Jean Louvet crept stealthily into the shelter of a 
 dark hallway to reflect. Now that he knew the full 
 extent of his peril he was no longer terrified ; but 
 could look the situation squarely in the face, with all 
 the resolution and courage that characterized his na- 
 ture. 
 
 "I see how matters stand clearly enough," he 
 mused. "It is apparent that my defiance of Robes- 
 pierre this morning has produced a greater effect than 
 I supposed. It has awakened his supporters to a 
 realization that he has many enemies in the Conven- 
 tion who are only held in check by fear. So his 
 friends, the Jacobins, dreading lest my daring might 
 lead others to emulate my example, had me accused of 
 treason immediately after I had left the hall. Then, 
 after having fixed a price upon my head, they sent 
 their orators among the people to stir them up to a 
 demonstration in the tyrant's favor. In this way they 
 hope to prove to his opponents that he has the support 
 of the citizens of Paris, and so frighten them into a 
 more complete subjection to his will.
 
 44 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "It is shrewd politics," he reflected further; "but I 
 will outwit them yet, provided I can escape from my 
 present peril, and reach a safe retreat. But how am I 
 to accomplish this ? Not by skulking and hiding in 
 this wretched quarter; for all its inhabitants are by 
 this time inflamed against me. There is but one 
 course to pursue. I must go boldly forth, face the 
 people with stern courage, and trust to God to carry 
 me safely through." 
 
 Thereupon he left the hallway, and, humming the 
 Marseillaise nonchalantly, walked briskly down the 
 alley.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 AT THE RABBLE'S MERCY. 
 
 JEAN LOUVET had proceeded but a short distance, 
 when he arrived at a street that intersected the narrow 
 lane at right angles. He paused for a moment to 
 decide which way he should turn; then wheeled 
 quickly to the right and hastened on. 
 
 It was his intention to reach his lodgings as soon as 
 possible, in order to procure certain important docu- 
 ments he kept there, before the gendarmes arrived to 
 arrest him; but, on further reflection, he determined 
 to abandon this purpose ; for it was imperative for him 
 to seek a hiding place at once. 
 
 On the confines of St. Antoine, in a winding street 
 hemmed in by squalid tenements, stood a very ancient 
 dwelling known as the Maison Rousseau, out of com- 
 pliment to the illustrious philosopher of that name 
 who had once made it his residence. Its present oc- 
 cupant was a learned physician, Dr. Narbonne, of the 
 most pronounced revolutionary principles, and con- 
 sequently very popular with the people. 
 
 It was said that he was exceedingly benevolent, and 
 that he had turned his house into a hospital for the 
 infirm. At least it was known that many persons, 
 
 [45J
 
 46 THE MAN WHO DARKD. 
 
 besides himself, lived in the Maison Rousseau, and, as 
 he said they were his patients, no one doubted it. 
 
 It was to this venerable mansion that Jean Louvet 
 was hurrying, when he suddenly encountered an ac- 
 quaintance who called upon him to halt. 
 
 "Bon jour, Citizen Louvet!" exclaimed the fellow, 
 blocking the way with his body. "So you have not 
 escaped us after all ?" 
 
 The young man shot a quick glance at his ques- 
 tioner, and recognized Jacques the Blacksmith, one of 
 the most sanguinary wretches in the Faubourg, who 
 had figured conspicuously in the prison massacres of 
 September, '92. 
 
 The savage aspect of the man deprived him of all 
 hope; nevertheless he forced a smile to his lips and 
 replied composedly: 
 
 "Ah, friend Jacques, so it is you? I thank you for 
 your kind greeting and return it cordially." 
 
 While speaking he attempted to pass on; but the 
 man would not permit it. 
 
 "Not so fast, my worthy Representative," he 
 snarled, with a sarcastic leer. "I must have a word 
 with you. I heard that you made a great speech in the 
 Convention this morning, and have become suddenly 
 famous. I congratulate you on behalf of St. Antoine !" 
 
 As he uttered these words, he squared himself 
 menacingly before Louvet, with his great, half-bared 
 arms akimbo, and his red cap pulled down over one 
 eye. 
 
 "I must deceive this fellow, or I am lost," reflected 
 Louvet. Then, affecting an air of surprise, he said
 
 AT THE RABBLE'S MERCY. 47 
 
 aloud : "Why, Jacques, you bewilder me. I make a 
 speech and become famous? Nonsense, man! Some 
 one has been joking you." 
 
 His manner was so sincere that the blacksmith was 
 puzzled, and it is probable that he would have let the 
 young man pass on, if he had not, at that moment, 
 caught sight of his informant coming down the street. 
 
 "I'll soon find out whether I've been joked or not," 
 he growled fiercely; "for here comes the very man 
 who told me the story. Why, blast him ! he said you 
 had defied Robespierre, and that a price had been set 
 upon your head." 
 
 Casting a look over his shoulder, Louvet saw a burly 
 laborer swaggering toward them. In the same glance 
 he descried, at the end of the street, a crowd of people 
 approaching, waving their arms frantically above their 
 heads, and rending the air with their cries. It was 
 evident that the meeting in the square he had just left 
 had broken up, and that a part of the disorderly assem- 
 blage was approaching. 
 
 His position was truly appalling. 
 
 On one side, he was hemmed in by a brawny giant, 
 one blow of whose powerful fist would suffice to kill 
 him; on the other, by an infuriated mob, clamoring 
 for his destruction. Escape seemed impossible, yet 
 he did not despair. Turning to the blacksmith with a 
 gay laugh, he said good-humoredly : 
 
 "Well, Jacques, it appears that your friend has been 
 playing his joke on all the Faubourg; for here come 
 the inhabitants of the quarter to applaud me." 
 
 His air was so easy and frank that Jacques, who
 
 48 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 had obtained his information only at second hand, 
 began to believe that he had indeed been made the 
 victim of a joke. Until that morning he had been an 
 ardent admirer of the young Representative, who had 
 always treated him as a brother and an equal. 
 
 Like other fanatics of the period, while bloodthirsty 
 in his zeal against those he regarded as enemies of . 
 the Republic, he was willing at any time to lay down 
 his life to protect the innocent. And now that he had 
 it in his power to either save, or destroy Jean Louvet, 
 he found himself incapable of deciding. 
 
 In the meantime his friend, the laborer, was draw- 
 ing nearer, with the crowd of maddened citizens not 
 far behind. He observed that Jean Louvet was gazing 
 upon them with an innocent smile, like one uncon- 
 scious of wrong-doing. 
 
 Was he innocent or guilty? 
 
 Should he urge him to escape, or deliver him over 
 to the mob's fury? 
 
 He had but a few moments to decide. 
 
 "Citizen Louvet," he asked suddenly, in strangly 
 appealing tones, "will you promise to answer truth- 
 fully what I ask you?" 
 
 Louvet, who at that moment was meditating a des- 
 perate rush for liberty, noticed the change in his voice, 
 and replied, artfully: 
 
 "Why, Jacques, have I ever told you a lie?" 
 
 "No, you have not," answered the blacksmith 
 quickly, "and that is why I trust you now. Are you 
 a true friend of the people ?"
 
 AT THE RABBLE'S MERCY. 49 
 
 The young man looked him full in the eyes, and 
 answered : 
 
 "There is none truer." 
 
 "Then you are my brother, and I will protect you," 
 cried the blacksmith, eagerly. "Listen ! The crowd you 
 see yonder are not coming to cheer you as you think, 
 but to tear you limb from limb ; for your enemies 
 have been spreading lies about you through the Fau- 
 bourg. They have denounced you as a traitor, ac- 
 cused by the Convention, and with a price upon your 
 head. Now, begone ! and leave the neighborhood as 
 quickly as you can, or I would not give one sou for 
 your life." 
 
 Louvet pressed the sinewy hand he extended 
 warmly, and hurried on. He knew that his perils were 
 not yet over, in fact, that only a short respite had been 
 granted him ; for in a few moments the laborer would 
 come up with the blacksmith, and then the truth 
 would be revealed. 
 
 So he quickened his pace almost to a run, looking 
 to the right and left for a street or alley into which he 
 could turn, and, once out of sight of his enemies, fly 
 like the wind. 
 
 But not a break appeared in the solid row of ten- 
 ements before him. 
 
 Presently he heard the sound of voices in eager con- 
 sultation in his rear, and, throwing a hasty glance 
 over his shoulder, saw that the laborer and the black- 
 smith had met. 
 
 "Nothing can save me now but speed," he mut- 
 tered, and broke into a run.
 
 5O THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Being a light and active man, and somewhat of an 
 athlete, Jean Louvet never for a moment doubted that 
 he could soon distance his pursuers. Indeed, his 
 chief peril now lay before him, rather than behind 
 For it was probable that any one coming from an 
 opposite direction, seeing him running at his topmost 
 speed with a crowd of howling pursuers in his rear, 
 would regard him as a fugitive from justice, and en- 
 deavor to head him off. 
 
 He had not gone a great distance when this thing 
 actually occurred. 
 
 He had reached a bend in the street, and was in the 
 act of turning it, when three men, in red caps and 
 blouses, came sauntering out of a wine shop about one 
 hundred yards ahead. The mob was now in full cry 
 after him, with Jacques and the laborer in the lead, 
 shouting : 
 
 "Stop the traitor ! Head him off ! Stop him !" 
 
 Hearing the tumult, the three men turned, and, 
 seeing the fugitive suddenly dash into sight round 
 the bend, spread themselves across the narrow way to 
 head him off. 
 
 By this time the wild clamor of the chase had 
 aroused the whole neighborhood; windows on both 
 sides of the way were thrown open with a clatter, and 
 heads were thrust out; men and women rushed out 
 of doors and hallways excitedly; pedestrians turned 
 in their path to join in the pursuit, and even the 
 gamins of the quarter paused in their play in the gut- 
 ,ters to hurl stones and mud at the luckless mar}.
 
 AT THE RABBLE'S MERCY. 51 
 
 It seemed to Jean Louvet that all Paris had risen 
 against him. 
 
 As he drew nearer to the men who blocked his 
 path, he collected his energies for one supreme effort. 
 If he could break through them, he might yet escape ; 
 so he determined to make the attempt. 
 
 Veering into the middle of the street, he bent low, 
 and, rushing headlong against the man who stood 
 there to oppose him, caught him suddenly around the 
 thighs, and threw him over his shoulder. Then, be- 
 fore the other men could come to the assistance of 
 their fallen comrade, he dashed on. 
 
 Another peril passed. 
 
 Hope now began to animate the young man's heart ; 
 for he saw, not far ahead, a narrow lane that led into 
 a labyrinth of winding alleys. Confident that, if he 
 could once reach this maze, he could easily elude his 
 pursuers, he put forth a terrific burst of speed that 
 elicited a shout of baffled rage from his foes. For 
 these human bloodhounds instantly divined his pur- 
 pose, and realized that he might escape them yet. 
 
 Suddenly, to their amazement, Jean Louvet came to 
 a dead halt, and, folding his arms quietly across his 
 chest, calmly awaited their approach. 
 
 Why? 
 
 From the lane toward which he was hurrying, a 
 mob was now pouring, giving vent to mad shouts of 
 vengeance, and completely blocking the way. It was 
 apparent that a third Jacobin meeting had been held 
 somewhere in the vicinity, and that the people who 
 had attended it were returning to their homes.
 
 52 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Two dense walls of humanity were now pressing in 
 upon Louvet from opposite directions, and he had no 
 choice but to bravely await the moment when they 
 would meet together and crush him. 
 
 "I am lost," he groaned, despairingly, "and with me 
 all hope of saving M. Vauban." 
 
 Presently one of his pursuers came up to him and 
 seized him roughly. 
 
 "Ah, you vile traitor!" he panted, fiercely. "You 
 are caught at last." 
 
 "Caught, yes," he answered, resolutely; "but not 
 proved a traitor as yet. I demand a trial." 
 
 At this moment, Jacques the blacksmith rushed up. 
 
 "You lying aristocrat!" he howled, with a murder- 
 ous gleam in his wolfish eyes. "You cheated me, you 
 betrayed my trust, and I will tear your heart out !" 
 
 Drawing a huge, hooked knife from his belt, he 
 was about to plunge it into his victim's breast, when 
 a third pursuer arrived upon the scene, and seized his 
 uplifted arm. 
 
 "Lunatic! what are you about?" he cried, quickly. 
 "Would you slay an innocent man ?" 
 
 Louvet turned toward his preserver in amazement, 
 and recognized Francois the Idler, for whom he had 
 left a message at the wine shop.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A CONFERENCE IN THE MAISON ROUSSEAU. 
 
 JACQUES the Blacksmith let his arm drop slowly to 
 his side, and threw upon Frangois a glance of blank 
 astonishment. 
 
 "Innocent?" he asked, pointing a threatening fore- 
 finger at Jean Louvet. "This traitor innocent ?" 
 
 "He is no more a traitor than you are, Jacques," 
 answered Frangois, boldly; "but a sturdy friend of 
 the Republic whom we must save." , 
 
 "But he stands accused of treason by the Conven- 
 tion," gasped the wondering blacksmith. "And, if he 
 is not guilty, why has a price been fixed upon his 
 head?" 
 
 Frangois laughed scornfully. 
 
 "Ignorant fool ! Know you not there are two Rep- 
 resentatives of this man's name in the National Con- 
 vention ?" 
 
 The blacksmith's lower jaw dropped. For a mo- 
 ment he stood silent, looking from Louvet to his pre- 
 server, and back again in a half stupefied way; then 
 he asked, bewilderedly : 
 
 "How can that be?" 
 
 "Listen, and I will explain!" answered Frangois, 
 hurriedly; for the angry mob was now close at hand, 
 
 [53]
 
 54 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 and every second was precious. "The man who defied 
 Robespierre this morning was not the noble patriot, 
 Jean Louvet, but a vile traitor of a similar name who 
 represents a district in the department of Lyons. The 
 man before you spells his name L-o-u-v-e-t. The 
 wretch accused by the Convention spells his L-u-v-e-t. 
 Their baptismal names are the same, which accounts 
 for the grave mistake that has been made; but here 
 comes the crowd," he added, as the people surged 
 furiously around them. "Let us do what we can to 
 protect this innocent man from their rage !" 
 
 It was fortunate for the hero of this narrative that 
 Jacques the Blacksmith was a power in the Faubourg 
 St. Antoine. Otherwise, he would undoubtedly have 
 been torn to pieces by the enraged populace before a 
 word could have been spoken in his defense. As it 
 was, the credulous monster, whom Franois had so 
 artfully converted into his protector, was obliged to 
 cover him with his huge body, and imperil his life on 
 his behalf. 
 
 Jean Louvet was conscious of being tossed from 
 side to side, as the infuriated mob pressed resistlessly 
 about them. He felt his frame clasped tightly in the 
 huge arms of the giant blacksmith. He heard the 
 roar of his protector's voice bellowing protestations 
 of his innocence ; caught confused glimpses of fiend- 
 ish faces crowned by filthy red caps ; of waving clubs, 
 gleaming knives, and glittering axes. 
 
 Then, believing that his last moment had come, he 
 muttered a fervent prayer, closed his eyes and waited.
 
 A CONFERENCE IN THE MAISON ROUSSEAU. 55 
 
 At this crisis a trumpet voice rang out above the 
 tumult : 
 
 "Would you stain your hands with innocent blood, 
 my brothers? This man is not the one you seek. 
 Jean Luvet is in prison." 
 
 The crowd ceased yelling and fell back, while a 
 stockily-built man, attired in the garb of a municipal 
 jailer, pushed his way to Louvet's side. 
 
 Reopening his eyes, to see who this new preserver 
 might be, the young man could hardly credit his 
 senses on beholding Simon the Jailer, for whom he 
 had inquired at the wine shop. 
 
 By what marvelous coincidence had these two men 
 arrived in such a timely manner to his rescue ? A few 
 words will explain : 
 
 Earlier in the morning, they had met in the Fau- 
 bourg the jailer being off duty at the time and, 
 while visiting the different wine shops, had fallen in 
 with one of the Jacobin gatherings. There they had 
 learned of Jean Louvet's defiance of Robespierre, and 
 of the peril which threatened him in consequence. So 
 they agreed to seek him out and warn him. Then 
 they separated and went different ways, not, however, 
 before Frangois had suggested that it would be well 
 to spread the report that a mistake had been made by 
 the orators, who, in denouncing Jean Louvet to the 
 people, had intended to denounce Jean Luvet, a Rep- 
 resentative well known to be opposed to the gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 This report, he argued, would readily be credited 
 on account of the similarity in the men's names, and,
 
 56 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 if Jean Louvet should visit St. Antoine before they 
 could warn him, might result in saving him from in- 
 stant death. 
 
 On separating, chance led them in opposite direc- 
 tions ; so that Francois the Idler found himself in the 
 crowd that afterward gave chase to Jean Louvet, 
 while Simon the Jailer became one of the mob which 
 subsequently issued from the lane ahead of him to bar 
 the way of his escape. Naturally, on discovering who 
 the fugitive was, they both rushed forward to his 
 rescue, Frangois arriving at his side in time to prevent 
 his assassination by the blacksmith, and Simon to 
 save him from massacre by the people. 
 
 On seeing that his ringing shouts had caused the 
 crowd to hesitate, Simon followed up his advantage 
 with vigor. 
 
 "Fellow citizens !" he exclaimed. "It is apparent 
 that an overruling Providence directed my steps hither 
 to save you from murdering an innocent man. It is 
 true that a Representative of a like name was accused 
 by the Convention this morning, and that a price was 
 set upon his head. But, brothers, he is in the Luxem- 
 bourg Prison, where I locked him up myself this 
 morning. You all know me, do you not ? I am Simon 
 the Jailer, and you are aware that I never stoop to 
 lie. So when I tell you that Jean Louvet, the man 
 whose life you have been seeking, is not Jean Luvet, 
 the traitor, who now lies in prison for his crimes, I 
 trust you will let this patriot go in peace." 
 
 A moment of silent suspense followed, and then a 
 voice cried out:
 
 A CONFERENCE IN THE MAISON ROUSSEAU. $/ 
 
 "But who is this other Jean Luvet you speak of ? I 
 never heard of him." 
 
 Before Simon could make answer, another voice 
 replied : 
 
 "Then I would advise you to read your Moniteur 
 more carefully. For my part, I know the man to 
 whom Simon refers well." Then raising his voice, so 
 that all might hear, he added: "It is apparent that 
 this man is innocent, citizens. The traitor denounced 
 by the orators must be Jean Luvet from the depart- 
 ment of Lyons, as Simon the Jailer says; for we all 
 know his anti-revolutionary principles. I think we 
 ove some apology, therefore, to the citizen we have 
 so grievously wronged." 
 
 A tremendous cheer greeted this proposal, and 
 every one pressed forward to shake Jean Louvet's 
 hand. In fact, he now found himself in almost as 
 much peril from the crowd's demonstrations of affec- 
 tion, as he had been, but a short time before, from its 
 fury. After a while, however, his two preservers suc- 
 ceeded in extricating him from the throng, and then 
 all three made off together in the direction of the 
 Maison Rousseau. 
 
 When they were out of hearing of the people, Louvet 
 asked his companions: 
 
 "Did you receive my message?" 
 
 "No," they answered. "Where did you leave it?" 
 
 "With the landlord of the wine house you both fre- 
 quent. However, since we are together, I will deliver 
 it in person. I want you both to attend a conference 
 to-night."
 
 58 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "At the Maison Rousseau ?" 
 
 "Of course, that is understood." 
 
 "Well, you can trust me to be there," said Simon. 
 
 "And me also," echoed Frangois. 
 
 "But whither are you going now?" asked Louvet 
 anxiously. 
 
 "To the nearest possible hiding place," responded 
 Francois. "We have saved you by employing a ruse 
 which may be detected at any moment. So we must 
 make the most of our time." 
 
 "Then let us hasten to the Maison Rousseau," said 
 Louvet. "For it is there the conference is to be held." 
 
 His companions offering no objections to this sug- 
 gestion, they proceeded toward Dr. Narbonne's resi- 
 dence at a lively walk. When they came within sight 
 of it, they turned aside into a narrow lane which led 
 to a garden in the rear. In this way they succeeded in 
 reaching the back of the mansion unobserved, and, 
 knocking at a secret door, were admitted into the 
 interior. 
 
 After seeing Louvet safe in this place of refuge, his 
 preservers took their departure by the same way they 
 had come, one to return to his duty in the Luxem- 
 bourg Prison, and the other to resume his vocation 
 as an idler. Jean watched them through a window, 
 until they disappeared from view, and then walked 
 quickly upstairs to Dr. Narbonne's study, and rapped 
 for admittance. 
 
 "Who's there?" asked a cheery voice from within. 
 
 " Tis the chief," answered Louvet, "May I enter?"
 
 A CONFERENCE IN THE MAISON ROUSSEAU. 9 
 
 Without pausing to answer, Dr. Narbonne hurried 
 to the door and flung it wide open. 
 
 "Mon Dieu!" he exclaimed fervently, as he clasped 
 Louvet to his heart. "How did you manage to get 
 here, my dear young master? I heard of what hap- 
 pened this morning, and feared that you had been 
 killed. May God be praised for your escape !" 
 
 Jean returned his embrace with equal fervor, and, 
 after closing and locking the door of the study, they 
 drew chairs to opposite sides of a table, and began to 
 converse earnestly together. After describing his 
 adventures in St. Antoine, and his rescue from the 
 rabble by his friends, Jean added confidently : 
 
 "The conclusions I have drawn from these events 
 are most encouraging. Let me state them. In the 
 first place, I am convinced that Robespierre sways the 
 National Convention through fear. Secondly, al- 
 though he has the support of the people now, if their 
 eyes can be opened to his tyranny, they will become 
 his implacable enemies. Thirdly, he is at present 
 popular with the National Guard and the Municipal 
 Gendarmes, and this enables him to wield an immense 
 power. But, if these forces could be made to under- 
 stand that Robespierre employs them as the instru- 
 ments of his despotism, they would turn against him 
 to a man." 
 
 "But the Jacobin Club?" interposed Dr. Narbonne. 
 "His influence with that body is unassailable." 
 
 "True," answered Louvet ; "but the Jacobins' power 
 is fast waning in France. Indeed, Robespierre is their
 
 60 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 chief prop and support. Take him away, and the 
 Jacobin Club would soon fall to pieces." 
 
 "But you have forgotten the Revolutionary 
 Tribunal, and the Commitees," said Dr. Narbonne. 
 "They are composed of Robespierre's friends St. 
 Just, Couthon and other uncompromising Jacobins." 
 
 "No," answered Louvet, gravely, "they have not 
 escaped my mind. I appreciate fully that they are 
 the real governing bodies of France, before which the 
 National Convention bows submissively. I learned 
 that sad fact this morning." 
 
 Dr. Narbonne cast a look of loving admiration upon 
 the young man, and shook his head protestingly. 
 
 "Ah, that rash speech of yours was a mistake," he 
 said. "What prompted you to make it?" 
 
 "Necessity," was the emphatic answer. 
 
 "Necessity?" echoed his companion archly. "Come, 
 confide in me, my dear master! Were you not actu- 
 ated in some measure by the arrest of M. Vauban ?" 
 
 Jean Louvet's handsome face reddened as he re- 
 plied, confusedly: 
 
 "What makes you think that?" 
 
 "Because I know you are M. Vauban's friend," re- 
 turned Dr. Narbonne. "Because I am acquainted 
 with all that occurred at the ball last night. I am 
 informed that Mademoiselle Louise Vauban appealed 
 to her admirers, after her father's arrest, offering her- 
 self and fortune to the man who would save him." 
 
 "True, but the cowards abandoned her to a man !" 
 cried Jean, with infinite scorn. "Being there myself, 
 I know whereof I speak."
 
 A CONFERENCE IN THE MAISON ROUSSEAU. 6 1 
 
 The worthy doctor regarded the young man with 
 an amused smile. 
 
 "And being there yourself," he resumed, "and being 
 also an admirer of the beautiful Louise, you volun- 
 teered to assist her in her distress. Come, confess 
 the truth, dear master! for I know your chivalrous 
 nature." 
 
 Jean blushed to the roots of his hair. 
 
 "Since you have guessed my secret," he stammered, 
 with a confused laugh, "I will attempt concealment no 
 longer. It is true, Dr. Narbonne, that I love Louise 
 Vauban. It is true that I volunteered to save her 
 father, and it is also true that my rash speech, as you 
 call it, was made in her father's behalf." 
 
 "But what did you hope to accomplish by it?" asked 
 the doctor. 
 
 "Robespierre's downfall!" exclaimed the young 
 man, striking the table with his clenched fist. "I 
 hoped that a majority in the Convention would sup- 
 port me; but now I see that I was mistaken." 
 
 "And would the fall of Robespierre save M. Vau- 
 ban?" 
 
 "He can be saved in no other way. It was Robes- 
 pierre who caused his arrest, and it will be Robes- 
 pierre who will have him guillotined. Therefore, if 
 M. Vauban is to be saved, it must be done by remov- 
 ing the tyrant." 
 
 "And you still hope to accomplish this result?" 
 
 "I do," was the emphatic answer, "and by employ- 
 ing his own weapons against himself. As his power is 
 the result of terror, through terror he must fall,"
 
 62 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 His companion regarded him with a perplexed 
 look. 
 
 "I do not understand you in the least," he said. 
 
 "Then let me explain," answered Louvet: "It is 
 an undeniable fact that Robespierre sways the 
 National Convention through fear, notwithstanding 
 that the majority of Representatives detest him. Now, 
 if these men can be inspired with a greater terror than 
 Robespierre can command, they will rise in a body 
 and denounce him." 
 
 "And you really hope to bring this thing to pass ?" 
 
 "The future will reveal my plans," was the reply.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 ROBESPIERRE'S RISE TO POWER. 
 
 WHENEVER mention is made of the French Revo- 
 lution, three terrible names are immediately suggested 
 to the mind. Let them be printed in capitals to em- 
 phasize the obloquy attached to them ! 
 
 MARAT, DANTON, ROBESPIERRE. 
 
 Of the three, Marat was the most bloodthirsty ; Dan- 
 ton the most violent; Robespierre the most implaca- 
 ble and despotic. 
 
 Concerning the former, who first attracted public 
 attention by editing an incendiary journal entitled 
 "THE FRIEND of the PEOPLE," Lamartine writes 
 that he was "the fury of the Revolution. He had the 
 clumsy tumblings of the brute in his thought, and its 
 gnashings of teeth in his style. His journal smelt of 
 blood in every line." In short, he pandered to the 
 rage and licentiousness of the most abandoned classes, 
 was despicable in his immoralities, and richly deserved 
 the fate meted out to him by the heroic Charlotte 
 Corday. 
 
 As regards Danton, Carlyle has found much in his 
 ..character to .admire. He portrays him as a man 
 
 [63]
 
 64 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 whose naturally strong passions were warped by the 
 conditions of his time; ferocious toward his oppo- 
 nents, yet not devoid of generosity toward individuals. 
 The celebrated Madame Roland, his bitter political 
 enemy, best describes him: 
 
 "I never saw any countenance that so strongly ex- 
 pressed the violence of brutal passions, and the most 
 astonishing audacity, half disguised by a jovial air, 
 an affectation of frankness, and a sort of simplicity, 
 as Danton's. In 1778 he was a needy lawyer, more 
 burdened with debts than causes. He went to Bel- 
 gium to augment his resources, and, after the loth of 
 August, had the hardihood to avow a fortune of 
 158,333 pounds, and to wallow in luxury, while preach- 
 ing sans citllotism, and sleeping on heaps of slaught- 
 ered men." "Danton," says Mignet, "was a gigantic 
 revolutionist. He deemed no means censurable so 
 they were useful. He has been termed the Mirabeau 
 of the populace. Mirabeau's vices were those of a 
 patrician. Dariton's those of a democrat. He was an 
 absolute exterminator, without being personally fero- 
 cious; inexorable toward masses, humane toward 
 units." 
 
 But, although history has arrived at a fairly just 
 estimate of the character of both Marat and Danton, 
 Robespierre remains to-day, as ever, an enigma. His 
 morals were irreproachable; no bribes could corrupt 
 him ; he seems to have been sincere in his endeavors 
 to establish a Republic founded upon the basis of 
 popular liberty and virtue; for self-aggrandisement 
 apparently never entered into his aims. Although he
 
 ROBESPIERRE'S RISE TO POWER. 65 
 
 was not a blood-thirsty man, he was ever ready, with 
 frigid mercilessness, to crush anybody who stood in 
 the way of his designs. His soul appears to have been 
 almost as insensible to any generous emotion, as was 
 the blade of the guillotine he employed so freely. 
 
 "Robespierre," said Napoleon at St. Helena, "was 
 by no means the worst character who figured in the 
 French Revolution. He opposed trying the queen. 
 He was not an atheist ; on the contrary he had pub- 
 licly maintained the existence of a Supreme Being in 
 opposition to many of his colleagues. Neither was 
 he of the opinion that it was necessary to exterminate 
 all priests and nobles, like many others. Marat, for 
 example, maintained that it was necessary that six 
 hundred thousand heads should fall. Robespierre 
 wanted to proclaim the king an outlaw, and not to go 
 through the ridiculous mockery of trying him. Robes- 
 pierre was a fanatic, a monster, but he was incorrupt- 
 ible, and incapable of robbing, or causing the deaths 
 of others, either from personal enmity, or a desire of 
 enriching himself. He was an enthusiast; but one 
 who really believed that he was acting right, and died 
 not worth a sou." 
 
 As all three of these despots mounted to power 
 through the influence they exerted in the Jacobin 
 Club, a brief history of the foundation and rise to 
 authority of this famous political organization will 
 here be necessary. 
 
 When Louis XVI. and his beautiful young queen, 
 Marie Antoinette, ascended the throne of France, the 
 measureless extravagance of the court had plunged
 
 66 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 the nation into inextricable financial embarrassment. 
 The whole burden of the taxes for the support of the 
 throne, the nobles, the church and the army fell with 
 tremendous weight upon the unprivileged classes 
 alone, sinking them to the lowest condition of poverty, 
 debasement and misery. 
 
 Taxes were placed upon everything. 
 
 There was hardly an occupation in which a man 
 could engage which was not taxed to almost a pro- 
 hibitory limit. Tax-gatherers, to the number of two 
 hundred thousand, employed the most cruel expedi- 
 ents to deprive the starving people of their substance. 
 Galleys, gibbets, dungeons, racks all were called into 
 requisition. When the corn was absorbed, the cattle 
 were taken. The ground, exhausted for want of 
 manure, became sterile. Men, women and children 
 yoked themselves to the plow. The most fruitful 
 regions gradually became reduced to deserts; the 
 population died off, and beautiful France was fast be- 
 coming but a place of graves. 
 
 Just at this time the American War of Independence 
 broke out. It was the struggle of a heroic people 
 against unjust taxation. The unprivileged classes of 
 France were aroused to enthusiasm on behalf of the 
 revolutionists; and, when the American delegation 
 appeared in Paris, headed by Franklin, all hearts were 
 swept along by a current which neither king, nor 
 nobles could withstand. 
 
 While the war between Great Britain and her col- 
 onies lasted, the people of France made no overt dem- 
 onstrations to escape from their bondage; but, when
 
 ROBESPIERRE'S RISE TO POWER. 67 
 
 the Americans had succeeded in wresting their inde- 
 pendence from their king, the seeds of liberty began to 
 germinate and bear fruit in the breasts of their French 
 sympathizers. Grumblings and expressions of discon- 
 tent were heard on all sides; while, at intervals, the 
 people broke out in open rebellion against their op- 
 pressors. Such were the prevailing conditions, when 
 the soldiers, who had served in America under Ro- 
 chambeau and Lafayette, returned to their homes, and, 
 mingling with their countrymen, inflamed their desire 
 for freedom. 
 
 In May, 1778, Louis XVI., by the advice of his 
 ministers, determined to issue an edict to render use- 
 less the Parliament in Paris, and the twelve Parlia- 
 ments in the other departments of France. In some 
 way tidings of his intention reached these bodies, and 
 the members resolved to resist the measure to the last 
 gasp. A deputation of twelve was sent from the 
 Parliament of Breton, with a remonstrance to the 
 king at Versailles. They were all consigned to the 
 Bastille. A second deputation, much larger, was 
 sent. Agents of the king met them, and, by threats 
 and menaces, drove them back. A third, still more 
 numerous, was appointed to approach Versailles by 
 different roads. The king refused to receive them. 
 At this, they held a meeting in Paris, and invited La 
 Fayette and all patriotic Bretons in the city to advise 
 with them. 
 
 This was the origin of the Jacobin Club. 
 
 The organization was first known as the Breton 
 Club, and was composed of the patriotic members of
 
 68 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 the National Assembly. After the removal of this 
 body to Paris, however, the club held its meetings in 
 an old, smoky convent of the Jacobin monks, and 
 was hence called the Jacobin Club. It now admitted 
 members indiscriminately, until it numbered twelve 
 hundred in Paris alone. Its affiliated clubs were es- 
 tablished in every part of France, and were filled with 
 the most ardent advocates of reform. In less than 
 two years, these branch organizations numbered two 
 thousand four hundred societies in as many towns. 
 Meanwhile the principles advocated by the Jacobins 
 became so fiercely democratic that La Fayette and 
 others of the more conservative patriots withdrew 
 from their tumultuous gatherings. 
 
 Indeed the Jacobins were rapidly assuming the 
 reins of government by marshaling the mob to their 
 support. By wielding this resistless weapon, the club 
 soon became the relentless and despotic sovereign of 
 France, more relentless and more despotic than any 
 single sovereign who ever sat upon the throne. 
 
 It will be remembered that, as the French Revolu- 
 tion progressed, Louis XVI. and his consort, alarmed 
 at the attitude of the people, deemed it expedient to 
 escape from Paris in disguise, and drive off rapidly 
 toward the frontier. Unfortunately, they were recog- 
 nized and arrested at Varennes, and brought back as 
 prisoners to the capital. 
 
 Reference is made to this episode, because it afforded 
 the Jacobin Club the opportunity of becoming the 
 most formidable power in France. On the morning 
 after the king's flight, Marat, one of its most popular
 
 ROBESPIERRE'S RISE TO POWER. 69 
 
 and energetic members, issued a furious proclamation 
 to the populace of Paris. Similar impassioned appeals 
 were issued by the Jacobin journals throughout the 
 country, and the entire nation was roused to frenzy. 
 The king was denounced as a traitor, plotting the de- 
 struction of his subjects, and Marat became the idol of 
 the nation. 
 
 This despicable wretch now openly advocated the 
 annihilation of royalty. Others followed his example. 
 The new doctrine spread with marvelous rapidity 
 among the lower orders of Paris, and very speedily 
 gained ascendency among the Jacobins. On the 23rd 
 of June, 1791, Danton mounted the tribune of the 
 club, and demanded, in an outburst of fiery eloquence, 
 the forfeiture of the throne. 
 
 "Your king," said he, "is either a knave, or an idiot. 
 If we must have one of the two, who would not prefer 
 the latter?" 
 
 His utterances were received with the wildest 
 demonstrations of applause. Louis XVI. and Marie 
 Antoinette were overwhelmed with a torrent of insults 
 and objurgations, and it was apparent that their fate 
 was sealed. 
 
 It was not until the memorable tenth of August, 
 1792, however, that they were forced to abdicate the 
 throne. Three days later, the king and his family 
 were consigned to the gloomy fortress of the Temple, 
 where they were held as prisoners until the execution 
 of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette upon the guil- 
 lotine.
 
 7O THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 The sway of the Jacobin Club over the destinies of 
 France was now absolute. 
 
 Danton was named Minister of Justice; the blood- 
 thirsty Marat was appointed President of a committee 
 of "surveillance," which established a terrible system 
 of espionage and domiciliary visitation in Paris, under 
 pretence of preventing conspiracies against the State ; 
 while Robespierre, who was now rapidly rising to 
 power, was offered the presidency of a special criminal 
 tribunal, instituted for the trial of all persons accused 
 of sharing in such conspiracies. He declined the 
 honor, however, as being incompatible with his duties 
 as the leading member of the Commune of Paris. 
 
 The Republic of France dates properly from the first 
 meeting of the National Convention, on the 2ist of 
 September, 1792. On that day Collot d'Herbois pro- 
 posed the motion that royalty should be forever abol- 
 ished, and that from the 2ist of September, 1792, 
 should begin the year One of the French Republic. 
 
 On the 2ist of January, 1793, Louis XVI. perished 
 upon the guillotine, amid the wildest demonstrations 
 of joy on the part of the spectators, who rent the air 
 with prolonged shouts of "Vive la Republique! Vive 
 la Liber te!" 
 
 The inevitable and immediate result of his execution 
 was to plunge the nation into a bitter strife of political 
 factions. The National Convention was divided into 
 two strong parties: the Girondists and the Jacobins. 
 One of the first great advantages gained by the latter 
 was the establishment, on the loth of March, 1793, of 
 the Revolutionary Tribunal the most execrable en-
 
 ROBESPIERRE'S RISE TO POWER 71 
 
 gine of lawless oppression and cruelty that ever dis- 
 graced a civilized nation. The Jacobins followed this 
 up by the appointment, on the 2/th of May, of the 
 terrible "Committee of Public Safety," consisting of 
 nine members, Barrere and Danton being the most 
 influential. Th'e whole revolutionary power was 
 lodged in their hands. They appointed such sub-com- 
 mittees as they pleased, held their deliberations in 
 secret, and governed France with terrific energy. They 
 were empowered to take whatever measures they 
 deemed necessary to the welfare of the Republic, and 
 issued warrants for the arrest and imprisonment of all 
 suspected persons. The Jacobins, by controlling these 
 two governing bodies, gained a decisive victory over 
 the Girondist, and sent thirty-two of their number 
 to the guillotine. 
 
 It was during this strife that Charlotte Corday, an 
 enthusiastic admirer of the Girondists, set out from 
 Caen to Paris, and, having obtained an interview with 
 the sanguinary Marat, stabbed him to the heart as he 
 lay in his bath. 
 
 After the downfall of the Girondists, the Jacobins 
 were driven by the necessities of their position to es- 
 tablish a system of sanguinary despotism, to which no 
 parallel can be found in history. Their reign will be 
 known to the remotest ages as the "Reign of Terror." 
 
 Maximilian Robespierre was chosen a member of 
 the Committee of Public Safety, in July, 1793; and, 
 from that time, its proceedings were marked by a 
 degree of firmness, activity, and systematic vigor, 
 which, if displayed in a good cause, would have been
 
 72 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 worthy of high commendation. His principal col- 
 leagues in this terrible secret conclave were Barrere, 
 Carnot, Couthon, St. Just and Billaud-Varennes. 
 Among other arbitrary measures which they enforced 
 was the famous "loi des suspects," which virtually 
 placed the liberty and property of the whole popula- 
 tion of France at the disposal of the government, and 
 soon filled the prisons with upward of two hundred 
 thousand miserable captives. 
 
 The Revolutionary Tribunal was brought into con- 
 stant requisition, and the scaffolds reeked with the 
 blood of victims of all ages, classes and conditions. 
 The first remarkable personage to be executed was 
 General Custine; the second was the unfortunate 
 queen, Marie Antoinette, who died, with touching 
 serenity and magnanimity on the i6th of October, 
 I 793- The despicable Egalite; the enthusiastic and 
 noble-hearted Madame Roland; the unsuccessful gen- 
 erals Houchard, Brunet and Lauzun; and the noto- 
 rious Madame du Barry, so long the reigning mis- 
 tress of Louis XV. all suffered in turn under the 
 fatal knife. Nor were the executions confined to 
 persons of prominence only. Hundreds of humble 
 citizens were immolated for the all-comprehensive 
 crime of hostility to the Republic. Lisping children 
 and decrepit octogenarians shared the same fate. The 
 two extremes of life, the cradle and the grave, met 
 upon the scaffold of the guillotine. 
 
 In the meantime, Robespierre was rapidly acquir- 
 ing despotic power. He controlled the Committee of 
 Public Safety, and his democratic principles, humble
 
 ROBESPIERRE'S RISE TO POWER. 73 
 
 mode of life and incorruptible honesty rendered him 
 the idol of the populace. Hebert, a low, impudent and 
 corrupt Terrorist, who exercised the chief sway over 
 the Commune of Paris, made a furious assault on the 
 Christian religion, the very profession of which he 
 determined to root out from France, well knowing it 
 to be the foundation of all morality and social order. 
 Danton and Robespierre organized a party to crush 
 him. Hebert perceived indications of this movement 
 and began to tremble. He complained in the Jacobin 
 Club that Robespierre and Danton were plotting 
 against him. Robespierre, who happened to be pres- 
 ent on that occasion, immediately ascended the 
 tribune, and hurled his anathemas upon the heads of 
 Hebert and his fanatical followers. 
 
 "There are men," said he, "who, under the pretext 
 of destroying superstition, would fain make a religion 
 of Atheism itself. Atheism is aristocratic. The idea 
 of a great Being, who watches over oppressed inno- 
 cence, and punishes triumphant guilt is quite popular. 
 The people, the unfortunate, applaud me. IF God did 
 not exist, it would behoove man to invent him" 
 
 This declaration was received with the greatest ap- 
 plause. The fate of the Hebertists was sealed. They 
 were impeached by St. Just in the National Conven- 
 tion, on the 1 3th of March, 1794, arraigned before the 
 Revolutionary Tribunal, on the 2Oth, and, after a trial 
 of three days, were condemned to death. They were 
 executed, to the number of nineteen persons, on the 
 24th of March, all but two of them betraying the most 
 abject weakness and terror in their last moments.
 
 74 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 There now remained between Robespierre, and the 
 possession of the absolute despotism at which he 
 aimed, only the party headed by Danton. 
 
 Prior to the execution of the Hebertists, the two 
 tyrants had been on terms of the most cordial friend- 
 ship. They had supported one another in all their 
 political designs, and Danton had recently lent his 
 powerful aid to his friend in defeating the Hebertists. 
 But he had now become thoroughly disgusted with 
 the enormities of the Revolution, and earnestly desired 
 to return to a more lenient and tranquil system of 
 government. 
 
 In consequence of this change, he became an object 
 of mortal suspicion and enmity to Robespierre. He 
 was repeatedly warned of his danger, but disdained to 
 fly, replying that his enemies dared not arrest him, 
 as his name was still universally feared. Nevertheless, 
 on the ist of April, 1794, barely a week after the death 
 of Hebert, the citizens of Paris were dumbfounded 
 by the news that the redoubtable Danton had been 
 seized in his bed the night before, and, with his asso- 
 ciates, was a prisoner in the Luxembourg. 
 
 The Convention, mute with consternation, offered 
 not a shadow of opposition to the arraignment of Dan- 
 ton and his friends. To the number of fifteen, they 
 were brought to trial upon various incoherent and 
 improbable charges. Danton defended himself with 
 lion-like vigor and audacity, and, such was the sym- 
 pathy aroused by his eloquence, that Robespierre and 
 his enslaved Revolutionary Tribunal were for some 
 time in trepidation as to the result. The despot finally
 
 ROBESPIERRE'S RISE TO POWER. 75 
 
 triumphed by obtaining from the Convention an order 
 enjoining the judges to put out of court any prisoners 
 who might fail in respect to the Tribunal. This was 
 instantly acted upon; Danton and his friends were 
 dragged away from the bar, ere they had finished their 
 defense; and, on the 6th of April, all perished upon 
 the guillotine. 
 
 Having thus trampled down all opposition, Robes- 
 pierre reigned the undisputed despot of France. He 
 still continued to reside in humble lodgings, and to 
 persevere in his plans for establishing the Republic 
 upon a basis of universal brotherhood and equality. 
 Nevertheless, no relaxation took place in the accursed 
 system of terror. On the contrary, the guillotine was 
 never so active as during the brief period of his su- 
 premacy. The French historian, Thiers, computes 
 that, in the month of April, 1794, two hundred and 
 sixty-three persons perished upon the guillotine. Dur- 
 ing the months that followed, the executions increased 
 with frightful rapidity. In May, three hundred and 
 twenty-four were beheaded ; in June, six hundred and 
 seventy-two; in July, eight hundred and thirty-five. 
 
 Robespierre, St. Just and Couthon were the three 
 leading men in the Committee of Public Safety, and 
 were hence called the Triumvirate. Any man, woman, 
 or child who fell under their suspicion, as being un- 
 friendly to the Revolution,was immediately accused, ar- 
 rested and thrown into prison. The eighteen prisons 
 of Paris were thus choked with victims. To be sus- 
 pected meant almost certain death. It seemed as if the 
 tyrant realized that the continuance of his power de-
 
 76 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 pended on his persevering energy in the same detestable 
 measures by which he had obtained it. 
 
 At this crisis, Robespierre suddenly absented himself 
 from the Convention and the Committees of Public 
 Safety and of General Security. He now passed whole 
 days together, wandering about the fields in profound 
 meditation. It was evident that he was planning some 
 master stroke to rid the Convention and Committees of 
 his remaining enemies. Nevertheless, no one dared to 
 oppose any of his measures, on account of the terror he 
 inspired. Occasionally he made his appearance in the 
 Club of Jacobins where he exercised unlimited 
 authority to mount the tribune and address his fellow- 
 members in impassioned tones of complaint ; otherwise 
 he kept wholly to himself, brooding and silent, like one 
 who lives in apprehension of approaching death. 
 
 At the time of M. Vauban's arrest, he was the idol of 
 the Jacobins; controlled the National Convention 
 through fear; was the supreme arbiter in the Commit- 
 tee of Public Safety and the Revolutionary Tribunal; 
 had the unqualified support of the National Munic- 
 ipal guards and gendarmes ; and was regarded by the 
 mob of Paris as the ideal republican of the nation. 
 
 Yet, it was against such an all-powerful tyrant that 
 Jean Louvet, an obscure and outlawed Representative, 
 had pitted his puny strength.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 JEAN LOUVET OPENS THE GAME. 
 
 IT was midnight in the Maison Rousseau. A light 
 burned in Dr. Narbonne's office, sending its cheering 
 rays athwart the gloomy street; the rest of the house 
 was darkened. 
 
 Belated pedestrians noticed that the shutters of every 
 window except one were tightly closed ; but, believing 
 that this had been done to insure quiet and repose for 
 the doctor's patients, attached no significance to the 
 matter. 
 
 Nevertheless, behind two of the shutters, in a large 
 room on the third floor, a company of conspirators 
 were in session. At one end of the apartment sat Jean 
 Louvet, behind a table littered with papers. Two 
 candles, placed at opposite ends of the table, threw a 
 dim light upon his resolute face, and a gavel rested be- 
 tween them, the emblem of his authority. 
 
 At his right sat Dr. Narbonne, bending over a table 
 of smaller size, recording on the pages of an open book 
 the minutes of the mysterious meeting. Opposite them 
 sat a number of aristocratic looking men and women, 
 whom the inhabitants of St. Antoine supposed to be 
 the doctor's patients ; but who were in reality the secret 
 agents of a political party then in exile. 
 
 [77]
 
 78 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 After the usual routine business of such meetings 
 had been transacted, Jean Louvet arose from his chair, 
 and addressed the conspirators as follows : 
 
 "You have all doubtless heard of my attack on Robe- 
 spierre this morning on the floor of the National Con- 
 vention, and have, perhaps, censured it as an act of 
 folly. Let me say a few words in explanation. To 
 begin, you must remember that I procured my election 
 as a Representative with the sole object of striking a 
 decisive blow for our party whenever the opportunity 
 should arrive. I believed that the conditions were fav- 
 orable for a coup d'etat this morning, and I think that 
 they are so yet. Consequently, I trust you will support 
 me in the design I have in view." 
 
 He paused, as if half expecting some sign, or word 
 of protest; but, observing that his auditors were all 
 eagerness and attention, went on : 
 
 "If the tyrant is ever to be overthrown," he cried, 
 "it must be done now while the majority of Repre- 
 sentatives are his secret enemies. We must act prompt- 
 ly and with courage, if we would hope to succeed. In- 
 deed, the least delay will prove fatal to our chances; 
 for it is rumored that Robespierre intends shortly to 
 send all his foes to the guillotine. With his opponents 
 out of the way, he will become the absolute dictator of 
 France, and all hope of ever accomplishing his downfall 
 will be ended." 
 
 Waiting until the expressions of dismay produced 
 by these words had subsided, Jean Louvet resumed, 
 with a smile of satisfaction:
 
 JEAN LOUVET OPENS THE GAME. 79 
 
 "I perceive you all realize that I speak the truth. 
 Now listen to me further. I have been meditating a 
 plot for Robespierre's ruin; but I cannot put it into 
 execution without your aid. You must not ask me to 
 explain its nature; for it must remain my own secret 
 for the present. I shall expect no questioning, but im- 
 plicit obedience to my commands. Remember that you 
 have elected me your chief, and have sworn to be 
 faithful to me unto death. Can I count on you to abide 
 by your oaths ?" 
 
 "You can," cried the conspirators in chorus. 
 
 "Very well, then," said Louvet, as he resumed his 
 seat at the table, "I will begin my game of politics at 
 once." 
 
 He stopped a moment to examine a paper on the 
 table, and then called out: 
 
 "Let the brother who is known as Andre the Barber 
 approach." 
 
 A slightly built man, attired in the height of the pre- 
 vailing fashion, rose from his chair and came forward. 
 
 "Does Robespierre still call upon you to shave him ?" 
 asked Louvet. 
 
 "Yes," replied the young man, with a scornful smile ; 
 adding, "He is in deadly fear of assassination and 
 would trust no other man to place a razor near his 
 throat." 
 
 "In that case," said Louvet, "you must be in his con- 
 fidence, and doubtless learn many of his designs." 
 
 "As regards his confidence," answered Andre, with 
 a self-satisfied smirk, "I have already told you that the
 
 8O THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 tyrant trusts me more than any other person in the 
 kingdom " 
 
 Louvet interrupted him with a quick gesture. 
 
 "In the Republic you should say," he interposed, sig- 
 nificantly; adding, "You should remember, sir, that 
 there is no kingdom in France at present. ' 
 
 Apologizing humbly for his error, Andre the Barber 
 assumed an air of mystery, and, bending over the table 
 toward his chief, whispered impressively : 
 
 "You asked me if I had learned any of Robespierre's 
 designs. He is not the kind of man to disclose them. 
 Nevertheless, I am all eyes and ears when in his pres- 
 ence." 
 
 "Then you have something of importance to tell 
 me?" 
 
 The young man dropped his voice to a still lower 
 whisper, and replied, very gravely : 
 
 "I have seen a list of those whom the tyrant intends 
 to destroy. While I was curling his hair yesterday, 
 he drew it from his pocket, and began examining it 
 under my very eyes." 
 
 Jean Louvet started back amazed. 
 
 "You astound me!" he cried. "What you tell me 
 seems incredible !" 
 
 Andre shrugged his shoulders disdainfully. 
 
 "If you do not believe what I tell you, why question 
 me ?" he asked. 
 
 "It is not that I doubt your word," returned his 
 chief; "but I am surprised at Robespierre's lack of 
 caution. He is the most suspicious and secretive of 
 men."
 
 JEAN LOUVET OPENS THE GAME. 8 1 
 
 "Nevertheless, I saw the list I have mentioned."* 
 
 "But how do you know that the paper was what you 
 describe it?" 
 
 "I will tell you," answered Andre. "Supposing at 
 first that the names on the slip were those of persons 
 whom he wished to honor, I asked Robespierre if mine 
 was among them." 
 
 "And he answered ?" 
 
 "That I should rejoice in its omission, as the names 
 on the list were those of persons who had come under 
 his suspicion." 
 
 "Which means, of course," added Louvet, grimly, 
 "that they are those of enemies whom he intends 
 sending to the guillotine." 
 
 "Exactly," returned Andre; "for everyone knows 
 that to be suspected by Robespierre is equivalent to be- 
 ing condemned." 
 
 "Did you see any of the names ?" 
 
 "No; for he was very careful I should not. The 
 moment I referred to the paper, he returned it to his 
 pocket, and immediately changed the conversation to 
 other subjects." 
 
 Jean Louvet motioned the young man to return to 
 his seat, and fell to pondering. Minute after minute 
 passed by; yet he never once changed his attitude of 
 
 * Carlyle and several other historians assert that Robes- 
 pierre's barber was the first to see the list of the proscribed, 
 which the tyrant is said to have prepared, in anticipation of 
 another attack upon his enemies in the National Convention. 
 He seems to have reposed great confidence in his barber,
 
 82 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 profound mental absorption. His eyes were fixed stead- 
 fastly upon the paper before him, his chin rested be- 
 tween his palms, and his elbows upon the table. At 
 intervals he knit his brows as if endeavoring to solve 
 some puzzling proposition. Thus half an hour elapsed, 
 during which the conspirators remained motionless 
 and silent, regarding him with the keenest anxiety. 
 
 "Is the chief confronted with some inextricable prob- 
 lem ?" they asked themselves. 
 
 A problem, yes ! But not an inextricable one. At 
 the beginning of the conference with his associates, 
 Jean Louvet had a well defined scheme to propose to 
 them; but the information imparted to him by 
 Andre the Barber had caused him to make a complete 
 change in this plan. With Robespierre's list of the 
 proscribed, he now proposed to overthrow the tyrant 
 by means of a brilliant coup d'etat, and his half hour of 
 concentrated reflection had been devoted to perfecting 
 the details of this plot. 
 
 Suddenly he raised his head, and, beckoning Andre 
 the Barber to again come forward, whispered these 
 words in his ear : 
 
 "The list you speak of must be procured at all haz- 
 ards. It is essential to the success of my design. You 
 will, therefore, employ every means in your power to 
 obtain it, or, failing in that, send word to me imme- 
 diately." 
 
 With this command, he dismissed Andre with a wave 
 of his hand, and called upon another of the conspirators 
 to come forward.
 
 JEAN LOUVET OPENS THE GAME 83 
 
 "I will next question the brother who passes as 
 Simon the Jailer," he cried. 
 
 The stockily-built man, who has already figured in 
 these pages, advanced to his chief's table, and assumed 
 an attitude of attention. 
 
 "Have you many distinguished prisoners in your 
 charge just now?" began Louvet. 
 
 "Yes, sir," answered the other, promptly; "the Lux- 
 embourg is filled with celebrities." 
 
 "Can you name any one who has friends in the Con- 
 vention ?" 
 
 Simon the Jailer reflected a moment, and then an- 
 swered : 
 
 "I know of one who has a very powerful friend in 
 that body Madame Fontenai, with whom Representa- 
 tive Tallien is said to be in love." 
 
 "Was she arrested as a suspect? Is she in danger 
 of the guillotine ?" 
 
 "She was imprisoned by Robespierre's order, and ex- 
 pects daily to go to her death." 
 
 "Capital !" ejaculated Louvet, with a pleased smile. 
 "Nothing could be more fortunate for my purposes. 
 Do you see this lady often?" 
 
 "Whenever I feel so disposed." 
 
 "Then listen to these directions carefully: When 
 you return to the Luxembourg in the morning, seek out 
 this Madame Fontenai, and persuade her to write a 
 pleading letter to her lover. Impress upon her the ne- 
 cessity of playing upon his selfishness. She must write 
 to M. Tallien that she has information that his own 
 head is in danger; that Robespierre is plotting to de-
 
 84 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 stroy him and all his friends. M. Tallien loves and 
 trusts the woman implicitly, and will place absolute 
 reliance on her word. Convince Madame Fontenai, 
 therefore, that, unless she arouses him to action, she is 
 hopelessly lost. Do you understand ?" 
 
 "Perfectly; but how is her letter to reach Tallien's 
 hand?" 
 
 "You must offer to act as their go-between, and de- 
 liver it to M. Tallien yourself. Can I rely upon you to 
 do this?" 
 
 "I will not fail you." 
 
 Jean Louvet dismissed Simon the Jailer with a 
 gracious nod, and then commanded Fran9ois the Idler 
 to appear before him. 
 
 "Well," he said, when the latter had taken his posi- 
 tion at the table, "what is the present temper of the 
 people?" 
 
 "They still adore Robespierre, but are beginning to 
 murmur at so much bloodshed." 
 
 "Naturally," said Louvet with a sad smile. "They 
 would be worse than fiends if they did not." He 
 paused a moment to meditate and added, "Do you think 
 they would support Robespierre against the National 
 Convention ?" 
 
 "That depends upon the issue," answered Frangois, 
 dryly. 
 
 "What do you mean ?" 
 
 "That they would support the side that stood out for 
 equality and freedom. Just now they believe that 
 Robespierre is their best friend. They regard him as
 
 JEAN LOU VET OPENS THE GAME. 85 
 
 an incorruptible patriot, and not as the despot that 
 he is." 
 
 "But if the Convention should denounce him as a 
 tyrant?" 
 
 "It would be a hazardous chance ; but it might suc- 
 ceed, if supported by proofs." 
 
 "Then we must see to it that the proofs are forth- 
 coming," returned Louvet. 
 
 And, bidding Frangois return to his seat, he bent over 
 the table, and set about writing a letter. 
 
 For a quarter of an hour not a sound broke the 
 silence of the room, save the rapid scratching of his 
 pen over the paper. Then, having finished the missive, 
 he folded, sealed and addressed it, and motioned Fran- 
 gois to again approach him. 
 
 "You will deliver this message to Representative 
 Barrere the first thing in the morning," he said, as he 
 delivered it into the young man's keeping. 
 
 "To Barrere, did you say ?" asked Frangois in sur- 
 prise. "Why, he is Robespierre's most intimate 
 friend." 
 
 "But an older and truer friend to your chief," re- 
 turned Louvet, regarding him with a peculiar smile. 
 "Can I trust you to deliver the letter to M. Barrere in 
 person?" he added. 
 
 "You can." 
 
 "And return to me immediately with the answer?" 
 
 "You can trust me." 
 
 "Very well then, you may resume your seat." 
 
 After questioning and giving directions to several
 
 86 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 others in the company, Jean Louvet announced that the 
 conference was at an end. 
 
 As Andre the Barber, Simon the Jailer, Frangois 
 the Idler, and their fellow agents passed through the 
 door, he slipped in each of their hands a scrap of paper 
 on which was written : 
 
 "/ shall expect you to report to me here to-morrow 
 night at the same hour."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LOVE CONQUERS DISCRETION. 
 
 THE secret meeting over, Louvet retired to an apart- 
 ment in the rear of the mansion, ostensibly to obtain 
 a few hours of repose, but in reality to ponder upon the 
 plot he had just set in motion. 
 
 "To accomplish Robespierre's downfall what a 
 tremendous task !" he muttered, as he paced nervously 
 to and fro. "Yet, since Andre informed me of that 
 list of the suspected, I am more hopeful of success than 
 before." And he added, with a smile of triumph 
 "With that list once in my possession, I do not see how 
 my plot can fail." 
 
 Suddenly he stopped, the smile disappeared, and an 
 expression of anxiety clouded his brow. 
 
 "But can Andre procure me that paper?" he asked 
 himself. "He is artful, sagacious and daring, I know; 
 but supposing that in this case he should fail me?" 
 
 The mere possibility of such a misadventure caused 
 him to tremble and turn pale with apprehension ; for, to 
 the successful execution of his newly-formed designs, 
 the possession of Robespierre's list was essential. In- 
 deed, without it, his coup d'etat must fail. 
 
 "Oh, why did I enter upon this desperate game be- 
 fore securing the document?" he cried. "I have acted 
 
 [87]
 
 88 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 rashly, nay, madly in planning this affair ; but is it too 
 late to retract ?" 
 
 This question he asked himself over and over again, 
 each time with increased anxiety. A hundred wild 
 projects to communicate with his agents, and warn 
 them to remain inactive until they met again, hurried 
 one after another through his mind; but all were im- 
 practicable and had to be abandoned. He flung himself 
 down in an armchair, and remained motionless and ab- 
 sorbed for hours. At last he perceived a dull, grey light 
 glimmering through the panes of the windows, and, 
 going to one that overlooked the garden, drew aside 
 the curtains and glanced out. 
 
 Above, the sky was glowing with the rosy light of 
 dawn; below, a dreamy mist enveloped everything. 
 Yet from beneath the mysterious curtain that hid the 
 garden from his view, arose the joyous caroling of 
 birds, and the intoxicating incense of the honeysuckle, 
 rose and bindweed. Entranced by such delicious warb- 
 lings and odors, Jean Louvet forgot his fears, and 
 allowed the pleasing reveries they suggested to possess 
 him. Gradually, all thoughts of the plot in which he 
 was engaged passed out of his consciousness, and 
 in their place arose bright visions of happiness and 
 love. 
 
 Love. 
 
 In Jean Louvet's mind the idea suggested by this 
 word was invariably associated with the image of 
 Louise Vauban. It is true that he had spoken to her 
 but once in his life ; nevertheless she had hallowed his 
 dreams and reveries for many months. He had first
 
 LOVE CONQUERS DISCRETION. 89 
 
 met her at a state reception, given by the Mayor of 
 Paris, and, on beholding her marvelous beauty and dis- 
 tinguished bearing, experienced an agitation of the 
 heart which it was impossible for him to define. 
 
 Now Louvet possessed one of those rarely constituted 
 natures, which combine the prompt resolution of the 
 man of action, with the sensitive intuition of the poet. 
 
 His soul was overflowing with enthusiasms, aspira- 
 tions, rhapsodies. The great heart of Nature throbbed 
 in unison with his own. She revealed to him secrets, 
 which she jealously guarded from her less-favored 
 sons, and, on his first meeting with Louise, unveiled 
 the greatest of all her secrets the divine mystery of 
 human love. 
 
 Louise was standing on the threshold of the ball- 
 room, illuminated by the mellow light of a thousand 
 candles. She was leaning gracefully against one of the 
 lintels, a pose that showed to advantage the exquisite 
 curves of her figure. She was attired in a close fitting 
 bodice of pale silk, and a clinging gown of the same 
 material, that suggested an entrancing shapeliness of 
 limb. Her bodice, cut away at the neck, revealed the 
 gentle swelling of her bosom, yet only half revealed, for 
 the open space was filled in with a filmy cloud of snow 
 white lace. 
 
 These charms Louvet beheld from a distance; but, 
 when he drew near the door, and ventured a glance at 
 her lovely face, dimpling and glowing with smiles and 
 blushes, she returned his look with a soft beam of her 
 lustrous eyes, and he was love-smitten on the instant. 
 
 For that brief look had kindled a consuming fire in
 
 9O THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 his soul, and the agitation, which had been hitherto in- 
 definable, he now recognized as the first emotions of 
 divine passion. 
 
 Many times since that meeting he had seen Louise 
 Vauban at a distance, generally in the company of her 
 father. He had met her at fetes, balls and receptions 
 where he might easily have been presented to her yet, 
 such was the adoring reverence in which he held the 
 lovely girl, that he had not presumed to obtrude himself 
 upon her notice, until she stood in sore need of a brave 
 man's assistance. He had then offered his services to 
 her, and they had been accepted. With sparkling eyes 
 and glowing cheeks he now recalled her fervent ex- 
 clamation "I trust you, M. Louvet, and gratefully ac- 
 cept your brave offer !" But had he not neglected to 
 provide for her safety while plotting the rescue of her 
 father? 
 
 This query suggested many terrible possibilities to 
 his excited mind. 
 
 Supposing that Louise Vauban should attempt to ef- 
 fect the release of her father on her own account ? Or 
 that she should become involved in a plot on his behalf, 
 and so incur the displeasure of Robespierre ? In either 
 event she would be arrested as a suspect, and eventually 
 end her fair young life upon the guillotine. 
 
 "I must hasten to her without the least delay," he re- 
 flected, with terror in his heart. "I must risk every- 
 thing to warn her to remain quiet." 
 
 He was about to start out upon this mission, when the 
 indiscretion of the act made him hesitate. 
 
 "No," he muttered, resolutely, "I cannot venture out
 
 LOVE CONQUERS DISCRETION. 9! 
 
 of my hiding place just now. It would be mere mad- 
 ness to do so ; for the fate of every person involved in 
 this conspiracy depends upon my remaining free to 
 direct them. If I should fall into the hands of our en- 
 emies at this time all would be lost." 
 
 Here he raised his eyes to heaven and prayed earn- 
 estly. 
 
 "Into Thy hands, O God, I deliver my beloved! 
 Guard her from all peril ! Inspire her with patience and 
 prudence ! Keep her in Thy safe keeping until I have 
 accomplished my purpose!" 
 
 Nevertheless, his solicitude regarding Louise was too 
 great to admit of his acting with discretion ; for, assum- 
 ing a disguise, he crept noiselessly out of the room, 
 stole quickly down the stairs, and proceeded to the se- 
 cret door opening into the garden. It took him but a 
 few moments to withdraw the bolts, turn the key in its 
 rusty lock, and throw the door wide open. 
 
 Then, closing it softly behind him, he sallied forth on 
 his errand of love.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WHAT BEFELL ANDRE THE BARBER. 
 
 AT a later hour on the same morning, Andre the 
 Barber knocked on the door of the cabinetmaker's 
 house, in the Rue Saint Honore, with the tools of his 
 profession in his hand. He had come to shave the in- 
 corruptible visage and frizzle the immaculate locks of 
 the great Robespierre. 
 
 Upon being admitted, he greeted the servant with a 
 merry jest, and, without further ceremony, ran nimbly 
 up the stairs to his patron's lodgings; from which it 
 may be inferred that he was a privileged personage, 
 as, apart from his brother, Augustin, and the honest 
 citizen with whom he lived, Robespierre permitted to 
 no one else such freedom. 
 
 Indeed there existed between the tyrant and his bar- 
 ber a peculiar relationship of confidence and familiar- 
 ity, which was the logical result of those anarchistic 
 times. 
 
 Andre found his patron in a mood of profound de- 
 pression, and, with the art of an accomplished courtier, 
 endeavored to raise the clouds of gloom from his spirits 
 by gay and witty conversation. In this he succeeded 
 so well that, before his task was half finished, the tyrant 
 began to respond. 
 [92]
 
 WHAT BEFELL ANDRE" THE BARBER. 93 
 
 "Do you know, Andre," said he, as the latter was 
 scraping his throat with a keen-edged razor, "that you 
 are the most trusted man in France?" 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 "Undoubtedly," went on Robespierre; "for I would 
 permit no one else to do what you are doing now." 
 
 "I do not understand you," said Andre, artfully. 
 
 "Then you are far more stupid than I supposed. 
 Why, can't you realize, my honest fellow, that with 
 one sweep of your razor you could end my existence, 
 and with it the future hopes of the Republic ?" 
 
 Andre uttered an exclamation of horror. 
 
 "Oh, Citizen Robespierre, what a terrible thought!" 
 
 "It is terrible indeed," returned the tyrant with a 
 shudder. "Not that I value my own life ; but my assas- 
 sination would mean the end of liberty, equality and 
 fraternity in France. There are many traitors in the 
 National Convention who are trying to bring this very 
 thing about, and I alone can defeat them." 
 
 Andre lengthened his face and sighed hypocritically. 
 
 "Ah, if all our public men were like you!" he said; 
 and a moment afterward he added, "but console your- 
 self, my generous patron ! You are not the only great 
 man who has been vexed by the machinations of wicked 
 enemies. History is filled with such examples." 
 
 Robespierre received the compliment, as if it were 
 well merited, and replied with a sad shake of the 
 head : 
 
 "Yes, I know what others have suffered for the love 
 of humanity and country; nevertheless, history can
 
 94 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 scarcely show a single case that quite parallels my 
 own." 
 
 "In magnanimity, virtue and incorruptible honesty 
 No !" exclaimed Andre with well-feigned enthusiasm. 
 
 "You flatter me, my good fellow," responded Robes- 
 pierre with a pleased smile. "I was not alluding to 
 my virtues, but to my sufferings. What I intended to 
 say was that no reformer in history has met with such 
 base ingratitude from his associates." 
 
 "But the people love you," protested Andre. 
 
 "As they loved Danton, yes; but I am not so blind 
 to the fickleness of their affections as he was. They 
 love me now, because they believe me to be their all- 
 powerful friend and protector ; but it is quite probable 
 that my enemies can seduce them to abandon me." 
 
 "Impossible ! There lives not a man in France who 
 would dare the attempt !" cried Andre. 
 
 Robespierre's thin lips parted in a sardonic smile. 
 
 "You think so?" he inquired bitterly. "Then it is 
 apparent that you hear but little of the news. Why, 
 it was only yesterday that an unimportant Representa- 
 tive, named Jean Louvet, had the audacity to address 
 the National Convention and call for my accusation 
 and arrest." 
 
 "The infamous wretch !" exclaimed the patriotic 
 barber. 
 
 "Nor is that all," resumed the tyrant, his voice be- 
 coming sterner and more threatening as he proceeded. 
 "This obscure Representative, having failed to carry 
 his point, was permitted to leave the Convention Hall 
 unmolested. Indeed, it was not until he had made his
 
 WHAT BEFELL ANDRE THE PARBER. 9$ 
 
 escape that the Convention accused him of treason, 
 and declared him an outlaw, with a price set upon his 
 head." 
 
 "Then by this time he must have been arrested." 
 
 "On the contrary he is still at large, owing, as I 
 have been informed, to the interference of two of his 
 friends." 
 
 "The miscreants!" muttered Andre. 
 
 "You may well call them that," said Robespierre 
 grimly; adding, "but I know who they are, and will 
 soon have them lodged safely in prison." 
 
 Then he related all the particulars of Jean Louvet's 
 capture by the mob of the Faubourg St. Antoine, and 
 of his rescue by the timely arrival of his associates. 
 
 "And were the rascals who came to his assistance 
 Representatives also?" asked Andre, leading him on 
 by feigning complete ignorance of the affair. 
 
 "No," replied Robespierre, falling into the trap at 
 once; "they were supposedly honest republicans like 
 yourself. One of them is a loiterer who is called 
 Francois the Idler; the other is employed in the Lux- 
 embourg as a turnkey, and is known as Simon the 
 Jailer." 
 
 Andre's face turned suddenly pale, and his hand 
 trembled violently. It was fortunate that the tyrant's 
 eyes were engaged elsewhere at that moment; other- 
 wise these evidences of emotion might have betrayed 
 him. 
 
 For the young man had just listened to an alarming 
 revelation. . It did not astonish him to hear the tyrant 
 refer to his Chief's defiant conduct in the National
 
 96 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Convention, nor did it surprise him to learn that his 
 patron had received intelligence of his subsequent cap- 
 ture by, and escape from the mob. But that Robes- 
 pierre actually knew the names of the men who had 
 saved Jean Louvet's life was enough to fill his heart 
 with consternation. 
 
 "Oh, if I could only warn them of their peril !" he 
 reflected with the keenest anxiety. "But I fear it is 
 too late. By this time Simon must have returned to 
 his duties in the Luxembourg, while Fra^ois is prob- 
 ably airing his opinions in the cafes and clubs he fre- 
 quents." 
 
 These thoughts were interrupted by a remark from 
 Robespierre. 
 
 "Do you know, my good fellow, that you have posi- 
 tively excelled yourself this morning?" 
 
 Andre turned quickly toward him, and observed that 
 he was surveying his person in the mirror with the 
 utmost complacency. He had changed his coat -'.nd 
 waistcoat for similar garments of a brighter hue, and 
 more elaborate design, and seemed greatly pleased at 
 his appearance. 
 
 "Yes," he resumed, as he patted the hair about his 
 temples, "you have really lent dignity to my features 
 by your skill in hairdressing. Therefore I congratulate 
 you before bidding you good-day; for I must now be 
 off to visit a person from whom I expect to gain valu- 
 able information." 
 
 Saying which, he smiled approvingly upor. is faith- 
 ful barber, and strutted vainly out of the room. 
 
 "Miserable egotist!" muttered Andre, when the last
 
 WHAT BEFELL ANDRE THE BARBER. 9/ 
 
 sounds of his retreating footsteps had died away. 
 "You doubtless believe that you are the greatest of 
 living men; yet you have just revealed to an humble 
 barber," and here he laughed significantly "the piti- 
 able weakness of vanity in dress." 
 
 While these words were trembling upon his lips, 
 his eyes were wandering here and there about the 
 room, taking note of every article of furniture it con- 
 tained. 
 
 In an alcove opposite stood the tyrant's bed a plain 
 affair of uncarved mahogany, with four straight posts 
 at the corners, supporting a canopy of coarse netting. 
 Between the two windows, which fronted the Rue 
 Saint Honore, appeared a narrow cabinet-desk, 
 equipped with numerous little drawers and pigeon- 
 holes containing papers. A few wooden chairs; a 
 centre-table, covered with books, pamphlets and the 
 journals of the day; and a large mahogany wardrobe, 
 with a highly polished mirror inserted in the panel of 
 its great door, completed the chamber's appointments. 
 
 "Where shall I begin?" thought Andre, as he 
 glanced irresolutely from one object to another. "In 
 what place has Robespierre secreted his list of doomed 
 victims? The Chief has commanded me to procure 
 it at all hazards, and I must not, nay will not, fail 
 him." 
 
 It may appear improbable to the reader, that a man 
 as shrewd and suspicious as Robespierre should have 
 left his apartments in the complete possession of his 
 barber. A few words will be sufficient to explain this 
 apparent inconsistency :
 
 98 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 It has already been stated that the tyrant reposed 
 unlimited trust in Andre, not only because he continu- 
 ally placed his life at the latter's mercy, but because 
 Andre had acquired a subtle influence over his melan- 
 choly disposition. Moreover, like all despots, Robes- 
 pierre had certain favorites to whom he allowed privi- 
 leges of an extraordinary nature. 
 
 Andre the Barber was one of these. 
 
 "Where shall I begin ?" he asked himself again. 
 
 It did not take him long to decide. Arguing that 
 Robespierre had probably placed the list in one of the 
 pigeon-holes, or drawers of his cabinet-desk, he tip- 
 toed softly across the room, and began his search. 
 
 First he made a thorough examination of the pigeon- 
 holes. 
 
 They contained a few bundles of letters, carefully 
 arranged according to date, and tied neatly with strips 
 of tape. A cursory glance at their contents informed 
 him that they were of no particular importance. 
 
 He next applied himself to forcing open the little 
 drawers. 
 
 Producing a knife from his pocket, he opened its 
 narrowest blade, inserted it between the frame and 
 front of the largest box, and began to pry forward. 
 
 To his surprise he found it unlocked. 
 
 He pulled it from its frame, and searched eagerly 
 among its contents for the list. 
 
 It was not there. 
 
 Finding that all the other drawers were also un- 
 locked, he submitted them, in quick succession, to the 
 same scrutiny; and, as his perilous task progressed,
 
 WHAT BEFELL ANDRE THE BARBER. 99 
 
 he became more and more conscious of the risk he was 
 incurring, so that the papers shook and rustled in his 
 trembling hands. 
 
 Having finished his examination of the desk without 
 result, he next began rummaging the books and pam- 
 phlets on the centre-table, thinking it possible that the 
 object of his search might have been placed for safe- 
 keeping between their covers. But here also he was 
 disappointed. 
 
 At last his gaze rested upon the wardrobe. 
 
 At the same instant a gleam of triumph flashed from 
 his eyes, and he muttered confidently : 
 
 "What an idiot I am! If the list is anywhere, it 
 must certainly be in the pocket of the coat from which 
 Robespierre produced it when I last shaved him." 
 
 Acting upon this theory, Andre crept noiselessly 
 toward the wardrobe, and slowly opened the door. 
 But, alarmed at the creaking of its hinges, he paused 
 several times in the act. Great beads of perspiration 
 exuded from his forehead, and his heart beat violently, 
 as he prepared to ransack the pockets of the terrible 
 despot. 
 
 There were coats and waistcoats innumerable, and 
 of every conceivable design, hanging in closely packed 
 masses from the crowded rows of hooks. Confronted 
 with such a multitude of garments, Andre was greatly 
 bewildered; nevertheless, he persevered assiduously, 
 until he at last found the coat he was in search of. 
 
 With a smile of satisfaction he plunged his hands 
 into its pockets. 
 
 They were all empty.
 
 IOO THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 For a moment he was overcome with chagrin ; then, 
 setting his teeth resolutely together, he applied him- 
 self to the formidable task of rifling every pocket in 
 the wardrobe. The excitement, that grew upon him 
 as he proceeded, gradually dissipated his fears, and 
 all his faculties became concentrated upon one absorb- 
 ing object the securing of Robespierre's list of the 
 condemned. 
 
 He went through pocket after pocket, with the swift- 
 ness and stealth of a practiced thief, muttering incoher- 
 ently, and vacillating between the extremes of hope and 
 despair. 
 
 He had been engaged in this fruitless quest for over 
 an hour, when he heard the door of the apartment open, 
 and drew back quickly with a guilty, startled look upon 
 his face. This expression passed away in an instant, 
 however; for, when he turned toward the door, his 
 countenance was wreathed in a smile of the most child- 
 like innocence, and his gaze was simplicity itself. 
 
 Nor did that simple, honest gaze waver for a second 
 when it encountered the crafty, murderous eyes of 
 Robespierre. 
 
 The tyrant was standing within the threshold, sus- 
 picious, yellow, threatening. His thin lips were pressed 
 tightly together, excepting at their corners, where they 
 curled up cruelly, displaying two pointed teeth. A 
 heavy menacing cloud hung over his brows ; while his 
 slender frame fairly shook with mistrust, fear and 
 rage. 
 
 Suddenly he thrust a hand into his coat pocket, drew 
 forth a neatly folded paper, shook it in the very face
 
 WERE YOU SEARCHING MY POCKETS FOR THIS, VILE 
 
 TRAITOR ?" Page ioi.
 
 WHAT BEFELL ANDR^ THE BARBER. tOt 
 
 of the smiling barber, and cried out in harsh forebod- 
 ing tones : 
 
 "Were you searching my pockets for this, vile 
 traitor?" 
 
 Andre remained motionless .and silent ; for he recog- 
 nized the fatal list for which he had risked so much.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 HOW IT FARED WITH SIMON THE JAILER. 
 
 WHILE Andre the Barber was on his way to Robes- 
 pierre's lodgings, Simon the Jailer was returning to 
 his duties in the Luxembourg. As he was proceeding 
 thither, he shook his head doubtfully and muttered at 
 frequent intervals: 
 
 "I wonder what game the Chief is up to now. I 
 wish he would explain matters more clearly, instead of 
 keeping his designs a secret. I'm no lover of mys- 
 teries myself, and dislike acting in the dark ; but Jean 
 Louvet loves secrecy above all things." 
 
 Here he frowned gloomily and sighed. 
 
 "Well," he resumed, after a short period devoted to 
 silent meditation, "I've sworn to obey the Chief blind- 
 ly, and will keep my oath, no matter what befalls. 
 Yes, I'll do my best to s-ee this Madame Fontenai, and 
 persuade her to write that letter to M. Tallien." 
 
 While thus discoursing with himself, he came within 
 view of the Luxembourg, and quickened his footsteps 
 in order to report for duty on time. At last he arrived 
 at his destination, and, having apprised the chief jailer 
 of his return, passed into the interior to resume his 
 functions. 
 
 Now, although the famous Luxembourg Prison had 
 
 [102]
 
 HOW IT FARED WITH SIMON THE JAILER. 103 
 
 formerly been the magnificent palace of "Monsieur," 
 the revolutionists had converted it into a huge, loath- 
 some dungeon. Outwardly it still appeared an object 
 beautiful to behold; but within were filth, disease and 
 misery. In spite of its great dimensions, it was so 
 crowded with prisoners that it was impossible to pro- 
 vide decent accommodations for half their number. 
 Every apartment from cellar to attic (the great halls, 
 galleries, corridors, salons) was packed with victims 
 for the guillotine; and, moreover, many of these un- 
 fortunates had been participants in the building's for- 
 mer pleasures, when its walls resounded to the strains 
 of enlivening music, and the joyous laughter of "Mon- 
 sieur's" guests. 
 
 Alas, what a terrible change! 
 
 This desecrated palace was now the abode of every 
 kind of suffering. The despair which reigned in the 
 breasts of its inmates was awful. One finished his ex- 
 istence by poison ; another opened his veins with a nail ; 
 a third dashed his brains out against the walls of his 
 cell ; while many lost their reason. 
 
 Those who possessed sufficient fortitude waited pa- 
 tiently for the summons of the executioner. The legal 
 process which consigned them to death was simple 
 and energetic in the extreme. Any person suspected 
 of being unfriendly to the Revolution was accused by 
 the Committee of Public Safety, and ordered to be 
 immediately arrested and imprisoned. The eighteen 
 prisons of Paris were thus choked with "suspects," 
 awaiting trial before the bar of the Revolutionary Tri- 
 bunal. This infamous court was a mockery of justice.
 
 IO4 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 To be brought before it meant one step further on the 
 road to death ; nothing more. The Public Accuser, the 
 sanguinary Fouquier-Tinville, boasted that he seldom 
 allowed a "suspect" to escape him. 
 
 Having been condemned by the Revolutionary Tri- 
 bunal, the prisoners were herded into tumbrils, and 
 hurried away to the frightful Conciergerie Prison. 
 
 One night of horror in this death house; to the 
 guillotine to-morrow. 
 
 Yet, despite the grim shadow of this hideous scaffold, 
 which hovered continuously over them, the prisoners 
 formed habits of existing together that were not with- 
 out social observances, politenesses and joys. Dukes 
 and Duchesses, aristocrats and plebeians, flung promis- 
 cuously together in these loathsome places, returned 
 to the old system of distinction in classes, and ranked 
 themselves according to time-honored precedent. 
 
 The aristocrats sat down to their lean dinner of 
 herbs and carrion, not without etiquette and place-aux- 
 dames; and, while inwardly shuddering at the loath- 
 some food provided, enlivened the meal with repartee 
 and laughter. "Jealousies, enmities are not wanting, 
 nor flirtations of an effective character."* 
 
 "Recklessness, defiant levity, the Stoicism, if not of 
 strength, yet of weakness, has possessed all hearts. 
 Weak Women and Ci-devants, their locks not yet made 
 into blond perukes, their skins not yet tanned into 
 breeches, are accustomed to act the Guillotine by way 
 of pastime. In fantastic mummery, with towel-tur- 
 bans, blanket-ermine, a mock Sanhedrim of Judges 
 
 * Carlyle's French Revolution, Vol. III.
 
 HOW IT FARED WITH SIMON THE JAtLEfc. 10$ 
 
 sits, a mock Tinville pleads; a culprit is doomed, is 
 guillotined by the oversetting of two chairs. Some- 
 times we carry it further : Tinville himself, in his turn, 
 is doomed, and not to the guillotine alone. With black- 
 ened face, hirsute, horned, a shaggy Satan snatches him 
 not unshrieking; shows him, with outstretched arms 
 and voice, the fire that is not quenched, the worm that 
 dies not; the monotony of Hell-pain and the W hat- 
 Hour ? answered by It is Eternity!" 
 
 Through this desecrated palace of fears and hero- 
 isms, Simon the Jailer proceeded, until he came to a 
 little courtyard where a number of prisoners were 
 amusing themselves. Casting his eyes from group to 
 group, he presently observed Madame Fontenai, sitting 
 gracefully upon a wooden stool that a chivalrous, old 
 gallant had surrendered to her. She was plying her 
 needle rapidly, while conversing with several admirers, 
 who were standing round her lowly seat, like courtiers 
 round the throne of a queen. At intervals she raised 
 her beautiful eyes, and laughed gaily at some sally of 
 wit; whereupon the gentlemen nodded their approval, 
 and re-echoed her merriment in chorus. 
 
 "How beautiful she is!" reflected the admiring 
 Simon. "And what a heroic spirit she displays amidst 
 all these horrors !" 
 
 Indeed, the gay and volatile Fontenai, who after- 
 ward, as Madame Tallien, was regarded as one of the 
 most beautiful and charming women in all France, 
 was now in the flower of her youth, and was already an 
 adept in those countless, winning graces which rarely 
 fail to fascinate and enslave the hearts of men.
 
 I06 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Drawing nearer to the light-hearted group, Simon 
 the Jailer awaited a favorable opportunity to engage 
 her in conversation. The chance presented itself sooner 
 than he anticipated. For presently she laid aside her 
 needle-work, arose from her seat, and dismissed her 
 admirers with a graceful curtsy; after which she 
 turned from them, with a gracious smile, and proceeded 
 toward the opposite end of the courtyard. 
 
 As it was apparent that she was about to retire to 
 her cell to enjoy a few hours of repose, Simon realized 
 that he must act at once, or run the doubtful chance 
 of executing his mission at another time. So, hasten- 
 ing after the lady, he succeeded in reaching her side, 
 just as she was in the act of passing into the corridor 
 communicating with her chamber. 
 
 "Pardon me, Madame Fontenai!" he began, in an 
 earnest undertone; "but I have something to tell you 
 that concerns your future fate." 
 
 The lady paused, and, turning toward him with the 
 utmost dignity, 
 
 "What do you mean, sir?" she demanded haughtily. 
 
 "Simply this, my dear madame," he whispered 
 eagerly: "I am a friend who would save you from 
 death, if you will permit me." 
 
 "Save me?" 
 
 "Aye, and a dear friend of yours as well. You have 
 merely to do as I say to insure this result." 
 
 "But how can I tell that you speak the truth, sir? 
 You are my jailer, whom it would be mere folly to 
 trust."
 
 HOW IT FARED WITH SIMON THE JAILER. IO/ 
 
 Simon the Jailer inclined his head to the lady with 
 the easy grace of a born aristocrat, saying : 
 
 "Yet I can prove my honesty if you will allow me." 
 
 Madame, who was not devoid of penetration, smiled 
 at this and answered : 
 
 "I will grant the opportunity you desire, if you can 
 arrange it." 
 
 At this Simon led the way into the corridor; mo- 
 tioned her to accompany him to a place where they 
 could not be observed ; and, when they had reached it, 
 turned suddenly toward her with the question : 
 
 "Do you really believe me to be a common jailer?" 
 
 Madame Fontenai laughed lightly. 
 
 "Why really, sir, I have never given the subject much 
 thought," she said ; "but, since you have asked me the 
 question, I will answer No !" 
 
 "Thank you !" he returned fervently. 
 
 Then, knowing that their interview might be inter- 
 rupted at any moment, he proceeded to explain to her 
 the awful peril of her position, and the fate that 
 awaited her friends also in the world outside. 
 
 "Alas, sir!" cried poor Fontenai, when he had fin- 
 ished. "I am aware that every word you have uttered 
 is undeniably true. That my death is near, I realize 
 only too well, and I tremble when I think of dear 
 Tallien and his associates. But what can I do, sir?" 
 she added, distractedly. "For God's sake, advise me 
 how to act!" 
 
 "Will you promise to obey me if I advise you ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, yes," she sobbed in terror. "Only save
 
 108 THE MAtf WHO DAfcED. 
 
 me; save my friends! and I will do anything you 
 ask." 
 
 Simon the Jailer remained silent for a moment to 
 collect his thoughts, and then gave the following in- 
 structions to the despairing lady : 
 
 "There is but one way to save yourself, madame, 
 and, for that matter, to save your friends also. It is 
 this: Representative Tallien has still some power in 
 the Convention. He is brilliant, energetic and daring ; 
 but at present he fancies himself safe. He and his sup- 
 porters seem to have been lulled into a fatal sleep ; for 
 they are deaf to all words of ill-omen." 
 
 Madame Fontenai was greatly affected by this 
 speech. 
 
 "Oh, can no one arouse him from his lethargy ?" she 
 moaned. 
 
 "Yes, my dear madame," was Simon's grave re- 
 sponse. "M. Tallien can be awakened by you." 
 
 Madame gave a little gasp. 
 
 "Listen !" he continued, in impressive, solemn tones. 
 "You must be aware that Tallien loves you dearly. 
 Therefore retire to your cell at once and write him an 
 appealing letter, warning him of the imminent peril of 
 his position. Conjure him to save you, aye, and to save 
 himself as well, by inciting the National Convention 
 against Robespierre. Tell him that he is already 
 doomed, and, unless he acts promptly and with vigor, 
 he and his followers will perish upon the guillotine." 
 
 The lady drank in eagerly every word he uttered, 
 and, when he paused,
 
 HOW IT FARED WITH SIMON THE JAILER. IOQ 
 
 "But who will deliver my letter to M. Tallien ?" she 
 asked anxiously. 
 
 "I will," said Simon gallantly; "so make haste and 
 write it at once, in order that you may give it into my 
 keeping as soon as possible." 
 
 Madame Fontenai having retired to execute this 
 order, Simon the Jailer went about the performance of 
 his duties as usual. He experienced a sense of satis- 
 faction in having succeeded so well with the lady; yet 
 he was keenly alive to the difficulties that still con- 
 fronted him. To obtain the letter was one thing; to 
 deliver it to M. Tallien was another. For this famous 
 man was not one to be easily approached. Moreover, 
 as Simon would be on duty until six o'clock that even- 
 ing, his time for finding the busy Representative was 
 limited. 
 
 "If I do not catch him while he is dining at home," 
 thought he, "my mission is likely to end in failure 
 after all. For the Chief has commanded us to report 
 to him at twelve to-night, and I'll have but a few hours 
 to run M. Tallien to cover." 
 
 Perhaps an hour had elapsed, when Madame Fon- 
 tenai emerged from her cell, and glided into the court- 
 yard where Simon the Jailer was then busy. She did 
 not approach him at first; but gave him a significant 
 glance, which he easily interpreted as a signal that she 
 had written the letter. When a favorable opportunity 
 offered, therefore, he advanced cautiously to her side, 
 and received a carefully sealed missive from her dainty 
 hand.
 
 IIO THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "That is the letter, monsieur," she whispered. "I 
 trust you will deliver it as you promised." 
 
 "I will do my very best," he answered. 
 
 And, placing the missive stealthily in his pocket, 
 he turned abruptly away, and hurried into the corridor, 
 with the apparent intention of engaging in some im- 
 portant task. 
 
 To the credit of Simon be it said, that the prisoners 
 under his charge were better cared for and fed than 
 any others in the Luxembourg. Although he never 
 allowed a chance to escape him of cursing all aristo- 
 crats, and indulging in violent utterances on behalf of 
 the Republic, he, nevertheless, treated his high-born 
 charges with secret kindness, keeping their cells as 
 neat and clean as possible under the circumstances, and 
 doing all that lay in his power to ameliorate their suf- 
 ferings. 
 
 He was employed in scrubbing the walls of an old 
 royalist's chamber shortly after parting with Madame 
 Fontenai, when he heard the voice of the chief jailer 
 call out from the end of the corridor : 
 
 "Simon! Oh, Simon! Where in the devil's name 
 are you?" 
 
 The honest jailer dropped his scrubbing brushes in 
 an instant, and wiped the soap-suds from his hands 
 on a coarse towel. 
 
 "I'm here, sir," he answered cheerily, as he hurried 
 out into the corridor ; adding as he approached his su- 
 perior, "and on duty as you may see from my appear- 
 ance."
 
 HOW IT FARED WITH SIMON THE JAILER. Ill 
 
 Until that moment he was under the impression 
 that the chief jailer was alone; but now he saw that 
 two other men were accompanying him. One glance 
 at their sturdy figures, and the uniforms they wore, 
 informed him that they were members of the Munic- 
 ipal Gendarmes; but, as such officers were frequent 
 visitors to the prison, their appearance did no disturb 
 him. 
 
 "They have probably brought another unfortunate 
 to the Luxembourg," he thought, "and wish to learn 
 if I have accommodations for his safe keeping." 
 
 But he was soon undeceived. 
 
 "Is this the man we are to arrest?" asked one, ad- 
 dressing his superior, as he pointed toward him. 
 
 "He is known as Simon the Jailer," replied the 
 official indifferently. "I can tell you nothing further." 
 
 "Then he is the fellow we want," said the gendarme, 
 drawing a warrant of arrest issued by the Committee of 
 Public Safety from his pocket, and coolly presenting it 
 to the astonished Simon. 
 
 "Unfold it and read !" he commanded. 
 
 Simon the Jailer perused the document with bulging 
 eyes, and returned it to the gendarme with a groan of 
 despair : for it accused him of being a friend of the no- 
 torious outlaw, Jean Louvet, and of having assisted 
 him in escaping apprehension in the Faubourg St. 
 Antoine. 
 
 "Well," said the gendarme, as he returned the docu- 
 ment to his pocket, "are you ready to accompany us 
 before the Revolutionary Tribunal ?"
 
 112 THE MAN WHO DARFD. 
 
 "I am," replied Simon, despairingly. 
 
 Whereupon the two gendarmes led him forth from 
 the Luxembourg with Madame Fontenai's compromis- 
 ing letter upon his person.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF FRANCOIS THE IDLER. 
 
 THE sun had mounted high in the heavens, before 
 Frangois the Idler, swinging a cane in his hand, started 
 to deliver the letter which Jean Louvet had written to 
 Representative Barrere. 
 
 After visiting the Convention Hall, and learning that 
 the rich republican had not left his country house that 
 day to attend the meeting of Representatives, he turned 
 away and sauntered slowly toward Barrere's villa, 
 which stood in the midst of a beautiful estate at Clichy, 
 a suburb of Paris. As the day was warm, and the dis- 
 tance long, however, he performed the journey leis- 
 urely, stopping for rest and refreshment at every pub- 
 lic house along the way. In fact he had acquired such 
 lounging, dilatory habits in his character of Idler, 
 that he could hardly be blamed for his shortcomings 
 in this respect. 
 
 Nor could he be held accountable for that inborn 
 love of nature, which prompted him to pause, at fre- 
 quent intervals, to admire the lovely bits of landscape, 
 that appeared at every turn in the road after he had 
 left Paris, and to make many excursions into the bor- 
 dering meadows to gather nosegays of bright-hued 
 flowers.
 
 JI4 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 s" For Francois was a true Frenchman, ever ready to 
 respond to the allurements of gayety and beauty. 
 
 It was not until afternoon, therefore, that he reached 
 Barrere's villa, which occupied an artificial plateau 
 rising above a fairy-like region of velvety lawns, trees, 
 graveled walks and flower beds. 
 
 As he passed through the gate, and beheld all the 
 beauties of the place, he could not keep from smiling at 
 the display of so much luxuriance in a republican. 
 
 "'Tis fortunate you are a friend of Robespierre, 
 my good Barrere," he murmured good-naturedly, "or 
 this extravagant home of yours might cost you your 
 head." 
 
 While thinking in this wise he arrived at the en- 
 trance of the splendid house, and announced to the 
 servant in attendance that he was the bearer of a mes- 
 sage to Representative Barrere. 
 
 "But my master is ill," protested the lackey, "and 
 cannot be disturbed." 
 
 "Indeed?" cried Francois, elevating his eyebrows 
 doubtfully. 
 
 "I have said it," growled the lackey very sullenly, 
 "and I care not whether you believe it, or not." 
 
 At this Frangois assumed an air of authority, and 
 declared, that, even if his master were dying, he must 
 see him without further delay. 
 
 "Stand aside, you rascal!" he exclaimed angrily, 
 "or I will give you a taste of this cane." 
 
 And, accompanying the words with a wave of his 
 gold-headed walking stick, he pushed resolutely for- 
 ward into the great hall.
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF FRANCOIS THE IDLER. 115 
 
 There was something so compelling in his tone and 
 manner that the lackey dropped insolence for apology, 
 and led the way into an ante-room to the right of the 
 great corridor. 
 
 "Pray be seated, monsieur!" he said humbly, as he 
 pointed to an armchair near a window ; adding, "Your 
 name, please! so that I can inform my master who is 
 awaiting him." 
 
 This query placed Frangois in an awkward position ; 
 for it seemed hardly probable that the proud Barrere 
 would grant a mere idler like himself the desired inter- 
 view. True, he might have delivered the letter to the 
 lackey, with instructions to hand it to his master; but 
 Jean Louvet had strictly commanded him to deliver it 
 in person. 
 
 "The Chief must have had some good reason for 
 issuing such a strict order," he reflected, "and I'll obey 
 him, even if it is necessary to employ force." 
 
 While these thoughts were passing through his mind, 
 the lackey stood before him, awaiting an answer to his 
 question. Receiving none, he again ventured to ask : 
 
 "Your name, if you please, monsieur?" 
 
 This persistency on the lackey's part suggested an 
 idea to Frangois which he deterrrlined to act upon at 
 once. Realizing that, if he complied with the rules of 
 etiquette, he would be defeated in his purpose, he 
 sprang suddenly to his feet and seized the servant by 
 the arm, shouting angrily : 
 
 "My name be damned, you impudent knave ! Come, 
 sir, conduct me into your master's presence at once, 
 or I will wring your neck !"
 
 Il6 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 The astonished servant received this tirade with 
 cries for help; whereupon several of his comrades, 
 alarmed by the disturbance, came running toward the 
 ante-room to learn what was the matter. As they 
 rushed, one after another, into the room, Frangois 
 withdrew into a corner, gave a twist to the handle of 
 his walking stick, whipped, from its place of conceal- 
 ment in the wood, a long narrow blade, and assumed 
 an attitude of resolute defense. 
 
 The lackies, imagining that the house had been in- 
 vaded by a lunatic, fell over one another in their haste 
 to retreat through the door, meanwhile giving utter- 
 ance to such cries of affright that their master came out 
 of the room where he had been resting, and appeared at 
 the head of the stairs, crying t 
 
 "In the name of liberty, gctod citizens ! what means 
 this clamor?" 
 
 Before any of his servants could reply, Francois the 
 Idler sauntered out of the ante-room, strode leisurely 
 to the foot of the flight, saluted the Representative 
 with his sword, and said calmly : 
 
 "It means, Citizen Barrere, that I have been treated 
 with gross insolence by your servants." 
 
 He accompanied these words with such an admirable 
 air of bravado that Barrere did not doubt he spoke the 
 truth. He was about to reprimand his lackies when he 
 fortunately recollected that the man who made this 
 charge was a total stranger. So he temporized the 
 matter by expressing a civil regret, and then suddenly 
 asking Frangois what business had brought him to his 
 house,
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF FRANCOIS THE IDLER* 117 
 
 "I am the bearer of a message which I am command- 
 ed to hand to you in person," answered Francois, pro- 
 ducing the letter which Louvet had given him at the 
 fecret conference. 
 
 "I dare say it's of no importance," was Barrere's 
 testy response ; "so you'll please excuse me for declin- 
 ing to receive it just now." 
 
 Seeing that he was about to retire, Frangois re- 
 solved to prevent him, and sprang nimbly up the stairs, 
 calling after him : 
 
 "Are you mad, Citizen Barrere, to treat a friend's 
 messenger like this ? Come, sir, I will deliver my mes- 
 sage, if I have to break down your door to get at you." 
 
 Thoroughly frightened by these resolute words, and 
 by the naked sword in the stranger's hand, Barrere was 
 on the point of calling his servants to defend him, when 
 a sudden change in the young man's manner, caused 
 him to alter his mind, and to inquire more closely into 
 the nature of his errand. 
 
 "From whom do you come, young man?" he asked, 
 as he extended his hand for the letter. 
 
 "You will learn that when you have broken this 
 seal." 
 
 And, pointing significantly to the wafer with which 
 it was stamped, Frangois surrendered the message. 
 
 As Barrere was now thoroughly convinced that it 
 had been sent him by some person of importance, h 
 beckoned Frangois to accompany him to his chamber. 
 
 On entering the apartment, Frangois returned his 
 sword into its hiding place, and stretched his languid 
 form upon a sofa. Meanwhile his host drew a chair to
 
 Il8 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 a table, and, after breaking the seal from the message, 
 spread open the sheet of paper and read the following : 
 
 "My Dear Barrere : 
 
 "As you are the only friend of mine who is on terms 
 of intimacy with Robespierre, I am compelled to call 
 upon you to comply with the request I now make. I 
 want you to give a bachelor dinner in your villa at 
 Clichy three days after receiving this message. Give 
 it in Robespierre's honor, and be sure to invite all the 
 leaders who are opposed to him in the Convention. 
 Robespierre, out of friendship for you, will be sure to 
 attend the gathering, and events of the greatest import- 
 ance will follow. I might remind you of the obligations 
 you owe me for past benefits, and put this request in 
 the nature of a command ; but I prefer to trust to your 
 friendship. You can rely upon me to protect you, no 
 matter how this affair may result. You will oblige me 
 by sending an answer by my messenger. 
 
 "JEAN LOUVET." 
 
 M. Barrere gasped convulsively while perusing these 
 words, and, when he had finished, arose from the table 
 and began pacing the floor in great agitation. 
 
 "Merciful heavens !" he exclaimed, with a vehement 
 gesture. "Does this Louvet wish to ruin me? Is he 
 trying to involve me in a conspiracy ?" 
 
 Frangois turned his eyes scornfully upon him and 
 observed : 
 
 "You can trust my master to do his friends no 
 harm."
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF FRANCOIS THE IDLER. 1 19 
 
 Barrere stopped in his tracks and scrutinized the 
 messenger's face closely. 
 
 "Who told you that I am this traitor's friend?" he 
 asked. 
 
 Frangois shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "I am not here to be questioned," he replied, coolly, 
 "but to receive your answer to my master's letter." 
 
 His effrontery aroused Barrere to sudden anger. 
 
 "So this Jean Louvet this condemned outlaw is 
 your master, eh ? I thank you, young man, for inform- 
 ing me of the fact S" 
 
 While speaking, he backed gradually toward the 
 door leading into the hall, and, before Frangois became 
 aware of his intention, darted suddenly through it, 
 slammed it shut with a bang, and turned the key quick- 
 ly in the lock. 
 
 Frangois bounded to his feet with a roar like that of 
 a wild beast ; but ere he could reach the door, he heard 
 the voice of his captor squeak triumphantly through 
 the keyhole : 
 
 "Like master, like man ! As you've had the audacity 
 to approach me with a message from an outlav/ed 
 traitor, I presume you are an enemy of the Republic, 
 and will keep you safely in my trap, until I can summon 
 the gendarmes to take you off to prison." 
 
 A moment afterward, the captive heard the same 
 voice shouting to his lackies : 
 
 "Fetch your muskets, my brave lads, and mount 
 guard over this villainous traitor !'' 
 
 This command was immediately obeyed, and, before 
 Frangois the Idler had time to realize his situation, two
 
 I2O THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 armed retainers of Barrere's household had taken up 
 their station in the hall outside, while two others were 
 promenading the graveled path that ran beneath the 
 windows of his prison.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 FACE TO FACE. 
 
 SINCE her unsuccessful interview with Robespierre, 
 Louise Vauban had remained in strict seclusion, in 
 the splendid mansion on the Rue Saint Honore, pros- 
 trated with grief at the terrible fate which awaited her 
 beloved father. The household servants, having fled 
 from the dwelling with the instinct which prompts rats 
 to desert an unseaworthy ship, her faithful maid, 
 Marie, was now her sole companion. 
 
 To the casual passer-by, the great house appeared to 
 be deserted. 
 
 The shutters of the front windows were tightly 
 closed, and the steps, railings and cornices were cov- 
 ered with dust. For the two heart-broken women were 
 anxious above all things to screen their misery from the 
 inquisitive gaze of outsiders. 
 
 The interior of the mansion presented a scene of dis- 
 order and desolation. Nothing had been removed, or 
 changed, since the night of M. Vauban's arrest. 
 
 The floor of the great ballroom was covered with the 
 faded leaves of flowers. Groups of palms and baskets 
 of withered ferns still occupied the various alcoves; 
 while the dense screen of plants, that had formed a cur- 
 tain round the platform occupied by the orchestra, 
 
 [121]
 
 122 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 drooped disconsolately, and extended a thousand 
 parched leaves on every side in a mute appeal for water. 
 
 The reception rooms and salons exhibited a similar 
 woe-begone aspect, and the broad staircase, leading to 
 the banquet-hall above, was littered with ribbons, 
 favors and other vain nick-nacks of pleasure. But it 
 was not until you entered the banquet-hall itself that 
 the blight which had fallen upon the Vauban mansion 
 could be fully realized. The enormous table, which oc- 
 cupied the middle of the apartment, still groaned be- 
 neath the weight of costly plate and viands. Slender 
 glasses, half-filled with the choicest wine, stood beside 
 daintily-painted dishes containing the most delicious 
 edibles speaking eloquently of the sudden consterna- 
 tion which had caused the unfortunate Vauban's 
 guests to flee panic-stricken from their places at his 
 hospitable board. Nor were other evidences of their 
 terror wanting ; for, here and there, a chair was over- 
 turned, or a dish lay broken on the floor. 
 
 It needed but the flaming inscription "Mene! 
 Menel Tekel Upharsin!" to flash along the wall, to 
 recall to mind Belshazzar's impious feast, which the ap- 
 pearance of Daniel the Prophet brought to so tragic a 
 close. 
 
 On the morning that witnessed the unfortunate ex- 
 ploits of Andre, Simon and Francois, Louise was sit- 
 ting in her bed-chamber, propped up in an armchair, 
 by a window, gazing blankly down upon the garden 
 below, like one stupefied by grief. Marie occupied a 
 stool at her feet, regarding her with affectionate solid-
 
 FACE TO FACE. 123 
 
 tude, while bravely endeavoring to inspire her with 
 hope. 
 
 "Do not give way so, dear heart !" she said, pleading- 
 ly, as she patted the limp hand of her mistress. "You 
 seem to have quite forgotten that gallant young man 
 who promised to befriend your good father." 
 
 "It was very kind of him, I'll admit," answered 
 Louise, faintly. 
 
 "Kind, did you say? It was more than that; it was 
 brave and noble." 
 
 Louise sighed gently, and a momentary flush suf- 
 fused her countenance. 
 
 "Yes," she murmured, "it was certainly generous of 
 him to come to my aid." She relapsed into silence for 
 a few moments, and then resumed, half dreamily, 
 "Why, his conduct was worthy of a knight-errant. 
 It reminds me of the heroes of Chivalry." 
 
 "I know nothing about knight-errants and the sort 
 of heroes you speak of," said Marie with great fervor ; 
 "but I do know this : that young stranger is the brav- 
 est man in France. I watched him keenly while he was 
 offering to aid you, dear mistress, and I know he 
 meant all that he said. He will help you, you may de- 
 pend upon it." 
 
 The earnestness of her manner had a stimulating 
 effect upon her mistress; for she now bent forward 
 eagerly and asked : 
 
 "Then you think there is still hope for my father?" 
 
 "I'll tell you all that has been passing in my mind 
 since I first saw and heard the young stranger. But 
 will you promise not to take offense at what I say ?"
 
 124 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "I'll promise." 
 
 "Then listen!" resumed Marie, gazing steadily into 
 her eyes. "To begin, my sweet mistress, you must 
 surely know that you are very beautiful. Now don't 
 blush, deary; for that is mere coquetry. Every one 
 acknowledges that you are not only beautiful, but gen- 
 tle, good and charming. In short, you are just the 
 kind of girl to make men love you." 
 
 "Love? Did you say love, Marie?" cried Louise, 
 with a bitter laugh. "Why, it is a foolish delusion to 
 lure young girls to their ruin." Then, suddenly 
 changing her tone, she added with tragic scorn, "Have 
 you forgotten the night of the ball so soon, Marie?" 
 
 The maid arose from her stool, and, winding her 
 arms affectionately around the neck of her lovely mis- 
 tress, whispered gently : 
 
 "My beloved Louise ! You speak of love so bitterly, 
 because you are ignorant of its divine, self-sacrificing 
 nature. The affection you have hitherto known has 
 been that you have given your father; but your heart 
 has never yet been touched by passion. The admirers, 
 whom you have considered lovers, are all selfish, world- 
 ly men, who have adored your wealth and beauty, 
 rather than your soul. That they failed you in your 
 need is nothing to excite wonder, or to fill your heart 
 with bitterness against true lovers " 
 
 "Have you ever seen a true lover?" interrupted 
 Louise, sarcastically. 
 
 "Yes," returned Marie, softly, "and so have you." 
 
 "What nonsense !" cried her mistress, with a gesture
 
 FACE TO FACE. 12$ 
 
 of impatience; adding, "if you know of such a man, 
 pray name him !" 
 
 Marie bent gently forward and whispered in her ear : 
 
 "The man who dared to aid you is a true lover." 
 
 "Are you mad?" asked Louise, blushing suddenly. 
 "Jean Louvet a true lover?" 
 
 By way of answer to these queries, the artful maid 
 embraced the young lady more ardently, and fairly 
 smothered her in a shower of kisses. While this dem- 
 onstration lasted, she read the mind of her beautiful 
 mistress, and, seeing that she seemed disposed to listen 
 further, ventured to resume more boldly : 
 
 "Yes, this champion of yours is in love; for it was 
 that which prompted him to help you." 
 
 "Why, what do you mean?" asked Louise, drawing 
 back in confusion. 
 
 "That he is desperately, madly in love ; and that the 
 person he worships so unselfishly is none other than 
 my adorable, darling mistress." 
 
 And again Marie overwhelmed her with kisses. 
 
 Although the maid's declaration surprised her, it 
 was hardly a revelation to Louise; for Jean Louvet's 
 generous conduct had already aroused her suspicion. 
 Indeed, it was impossible for her to believe that one 
 who was a total stranger should have championed her 
 cause from motives of an ordinary nature. 
 
 But, now that Marie had confirmed her suspicions, 
 she began to reflect more seriously on the risks that 
 this noble stranger had incurred on her behalf. True, 
 he had assumed them voluntarily ; nevertheless she had 
 encouraged him to proceed, and felt that she had,
 
 126 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 thereby, become a partaker in the responsibility of his 
 undertaking. 
 
 The thought that there was at least one man who 
 stood ready to lay down his life to insure her happiness 
 was encouraging to the disconsolate girl, and deter- 
 mined her to battle bravely against despair. Jean 
 Louvet had sworn to aid her in saving her father from 
 the guillotine, and had said that he possessed resources 
 which the greatest men might envy. In recalling their 
 extraordinary interview, Louise remembered further 
 how she had been inspfred with a feeling of confidence 
 by the stranger's noble countenance. It was certain 
 that he was a gentleman, or he could never have ap- 
 proached her with such delicacy, offering to place him- 
 self at her disposal, without claiming her promised re- 
 ward. 
 
 While she was indulging in these reflections, she be- 
 held a man vault lightly over the fence that enclosed the 
 little garden in the rear, and glide swiftly toward the 
 house, casting furtive glances from side to side as he 
 advanced. Although he was attired in the red cap and 
 coarse blouse of a workingman, there was something 
 so familiar in his graceful movements that her sus- 
 picions were excited, and, calling Marie to her side, 
 she pointed down at the mysterious intruder, and 
 asked, 
 
 "Have you ever seen that man before ? It strikes me 
 that he is not a stranger." 
 
 Marie examined the man's person and movements 
 with keen attention. Then, catching a momentary
 
 FACE TO FACE. I2/ 
 
 glance at his face as he looked upward, she cried out 
 in great excitement: 
 
 "Why, it's Monsieur Louvet, as I'm an honest girl! 
 He's come here with good news, God bless him !" 
 
 And, turning quickly toward the door, she ran clat- 
 tering down the stairs to accord him a joyous welcome. 
 
 Louise was so startled by the girl's abrupt announce- 
 ment that she became of a sudden weak, and was 
 obliged to exert herself to the utmost to keep from 
 fainting. 
 
 "Jean Louvet !" she murmured with fluttering heart. 
 "What good, or evil tidings could have brought him 
 here?" 
 
 Presently she heard the sound of footsteps ascending 
 the stairs, and collected all her faculties for the ap- 
 proaching interview. In a few moments the footsteps 
 stopped on the landing outside ; the door of the parlor 
 adjoining her bed-chamber slowly opened; and Marie 
 bade Jean Louvet enter, saying, 
 
 "Be seated, monsieur! I will tell my mistress that 
 you are here." 
 
 An instant afterward, the maid swept smilingly into 
 the bed-chamber, and announced to Mademoiselle 
 Vauban that her friend was in the parlor. 
 
 "Has anything serious happened?" inquired Louise, 
 tremulously. 
 
 "No, deary," returned Marie, reassuringly. "M. 
 Louvet wishes to consult with you, nothing more." 
 
 Pale and quivering with emotion, Louise arose, and 
 walked slowly and unsteadily toward the apartment 
 where Jean Louvet was awaitmg her. On the thresh-
 
 !28 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 old of the door, she paused for a moment, to gain 
 greater mastery over her feelings; then, forcing a 
 smile to her trembling lips, advanced with outstretched 
 hand toward her visitor. 
 
 Perhaps nothing appeals to the sensibilities of a true 
 man so irresistibly as the spectacle of a beautiful wom- 
 an in distress. Jean Louvet observed the pallor of 
 Louise Vauban's countenance, the lines of acute suf- 
 fering which contracted her brows, and the look of 
 despair in her eyes. He would gladly have borne any 
 torments to have relieved her of her anguish; but he 
 felt utterly powerless, even to console her. 
 
 Oh, if he could have clasped her in his arms and com- 
 forted her with words of undying affection! If he 
 could, only for one brief moment, have revealed to her 
 the celestial passion that consumed his soul, by whis- 
 pering the words which men have learned from angels 
 "I love you !" 
 
 Knowing that this was impossible, he merely clasped 
 the hand she extended to him with a slight pressure, 
 and remarked with cold politeness : 
 
 "Mademoiselle Vauban, you look worn and ill. You 
 must take better care of yourself." 
 
 "Monsieur," she answered, smiling upon him sadly, 
 "give me back my father, and I promise to recover my 
 health and looks that moment." 
 
 She sank languidly upon a divan at his side, and re- 
 sumed : 
 
 "I observe, Monsieur Louvet, that you are disguised. 
 May I ask the reason?"
 
 FACE TO FACE. 129 
 
 "Have you not heard of yesterday's proceedings in 
 the Convention ?" he asked. 
 
 She replied in the negative. 
 
 "Then I will inform you," he continued, in that low, 
 musical voice which he invariably employed when con- 
 versing with the gentler sex: 
 
 "On taking my seat in the Convention Hall, yester- 
 day morning, I was convinced that the majority of 
 Representatives were simply waiting for some bold 
 man to denounce and accuse Robespierre. I know that 
 he has many enemies, and believed that they would 
 rise up and support such a motion, and that the tyrant 
 would be overthrown by a coup d' etat." 
 
 "What an audacious idea!" exclaimed the girl. 
 
 "True; but audacity is essential in some instances," 
 he returned, calmly ; continuing, "In fact, Mademoiselle 
 Vauban, I ventured to denounce and accuse Robes- 
 pierre myself, hoping that the majority of Represen- 
 tatives would support me. I endeavored to accomplish 
 his downfall in the National Convention yesterday 
 morning; but not a member stood forth to uphold me." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Louise, her eyes flashing with 
 enthusiasm. "Do you mean to say you defied Robes- 
 pierre single-handed?" 
 
 "I acknowledge the folly," replied Louvet. 
 
 "And no one came forward to your aid?" 
 
 "Not a single man." 
 
 Louise bent forward impulsively, and seized his 
 hands, saying : 
 
 "And you did this on behalf of my father?."
 
 I3O THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "Such was my design," replied Louvet, in tones of 
 bitter disappointment. 
 
 The girl raised his hands reverently to her lips. 
 
 "Monsieur," she murmured, sweetly, "you are a 
 brave and noble man. You have done all that you can 
 for me and my dear father, and I implore you to aban- 
 don us to our fate. It would be a crime for me to urge 
 you to further efforts; for I now know why you go 
 about disguised. Having defied Robespierre, the Con- 
 vention has declared you an outlaw am I not right?" 
 
 "Yes, mademoiselle," replied Louvet with emotion. 
 "Nevertheless, this very disguise will be put to good 
 use. As to abandoning your father to Robespierre's 
 vengeance, it would be impossible. I have already 
 started a plot for his release, and it is too late to with- 
 draw now. I have come here, not to speak of this mat- 
 ter, but to ask you to give me your solemn word that 
 you will remain here in seclusion until everything is 
 over. Will you grant me this request?" 
 
 "I will," answered Louise solemnly. 
 
 A short interval of silence followed, during which 
 Louise leaned forward, with an elbow resting upon her 
 knee, and a delicate, white hand supporting her rounded 
 chin, in an attitude of profound reverie. Entranced by 
 the charming pensiveness expressed in her countenance, 
 Jean Louvet remained mute and motionless, with 
 bowed head and clasped hands, offering up as an in- 
 cense to this idol of his heart all the sublime, adoring, 
 self-sacrificing emotions that filled it. 
 
 "She is communing with her God," he reflected, de- 
 voutly. "I will not disturb her."
 
 FACE TO FACE. 13! 
 
 By this it will be seen that he was, even as Marie 
 had described him, a true lover. Nevertheless, like all 
 other true lovers, he was attributing to the object of 
 his adoration, higher and nobler meditations than 
 those which really occupied her mind. For Louise, 
 far from communing with her Creator, was in reality 
 reflecting about him. 
 
 "I wonder why it is that this strange young man 
 exerts such a wondrous influence over my will?" she 
 mused. "He merely asks me to grant a request, and 
 I consent without hesitation. Is it because he has 
 proved himself worthy of my confidence ? No ; for I 
 trusted him from the first. Is it that he is handsome, 
 gentle and courteous ? No ; for Juvenal is far hand- 
 somer than this stranger; while D'Espernay is the 
 gentlest of men, and Villeneuve is gallantry personi- 
 fied. What then can be the secret of his power? It 
 must be that he is so daring, chivalrous and unselfish, 
 that he is willing to sacrifice his very life for my sake." 
 
 Satisfied that she had solved the problem of his in- 
 fluence over her, Louise turned suddenly to Jean Lou- 
 vet and said : 
 
 "You have requested me to remain here in seclusion 
 until you have accomplished your designs may I ask 
 the reason?" 
 
 The unexpectedness of her query caused the young 
 man to awake from his ecstacy with a start ; but, re- 
 covering himself quickly, he replied : 
 
 "The reason I made such a singular request, mad- 
 emoiselle, is because of my solicitude on your behalf. 
 I believe you will not be molested so long as you re-
 
 132 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 main quiet. Being assured of your safety, I can act 
 boldly on your father's behalf, and concentrate all my 
 faculties upon the object we desire." 
 
 Both were so intent upon the subject they were dis- 
 cussing that they failed to hear the creaking of foot- 
 steps on the stairs. 
 
 "But," said Louise anxiously, "it may be necessary 
 for me to communicate with you in the meanwhile. 
 Supposing, for example, that I should hear something 
 about my father that would be essential to the success 
 of your designs. To what place could I despatch a 
 secret message?" 
 
 "If you'll promise not to resort to such a measure, 
 unless the conditions are extremely urgent, I will 
 reveal a place where I can always be found. And," he 
 added, with the utmost confidence, "You must be sure 
 of the trustworthiness of your messenger." 
 
 While speaking, he drew a slip of paper from his 
 pocket, and, going over to a little desk in a corner, 
 dipped a quill in an ink-horn and wrote down rapidly, 
 
 "Maison Rousseau" 
 
 "Rue " 
 
 "Faubourg Saint Antoine." 
 
 Then, after drying the ink with fine sand, he re- 
 turne/i to the girl, and delivered the paper into her 
 possession. 
 
 At that moment a few nervous taps sounded upon 
 the door communicating with the landing. 
 
 Supposing that they were made by Marie for it
 
 HE DREW HIMSELF UP TO HIS FULL HEIGHT, AND 
 CONFRONTED THE MERCILESS DESPOT FACE TO 
 
 FACE. Page 133.
 
 FACE TO FACE. 133 
 
 should be rerrernbered that neither she, nor Louvet 
 had heard the footsteps that, but a moment before, 
 creaked upon the stairs Louise folded the slip into a 
 tiny square, and, thrusting it for safe-keeping into her 
 bosom, called out very graciously : 
 
 "Come in !" 
 
 At this invitation the person outside moved the door 
 back slowly on its hinges, crossed the threshold, and, 
 advancing toward them hat in hand, saluted Mad- 
 emoiselle Vauban with an obsequious bow. 
 
 "Pardon me i" he said, smiling upon her with great 
 affability ; then, turning to Jean Louvet, whom he did 
 not recognize in his disguise, he added in tones of 
 biting irony, "I had no intention of interrupting such 
 a delightful tete-a-tete, I assure you." 
 
 Louise sank back upon the divan speechless with 
 terror; for the slender, elegantly attired person who 
 stood before her was Robespierre. 
 
 As for Jean Louvet, he sprang quickly from his 
 chair, stepped resolutely between the intruder and the 
 frightened girl, drew himself up to his full height, and 
 confronted the merciless despot face to face.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 A WOMAN'S SENSE OF HONOR. 
 
 FOR a brief moment Robespierre's face expressed 
 the utmost astonishment at such singular behaviour 
 on the part of the supposed workingman; but, when 
 his keen perception had penetrated Jean Louvet's dis- 
 guise, he glared fiercely back at him without attempt- 
 ing to dissemble the passionate hatred that filled his 
 heart. 
 
 Louvet returned his ferocious, threatening glance 
 with a look of supreme defiance. Indeed, while the 
 tyrant's eyes blinked and emitted yellow, scintillating 
 sparks, those of his opponent never quivered for an 
 instant, but poured a deluge of terrible light into the 
 dark recesses of Robespierre's perverted soul. Each 
 realized that he was in the presence of his mortal 
 enemy, and that there could be no reconciliation be- 
 tween them this side the grave. 
 
 Robespierre was the first to break the frightful 
 spell. 
 
 Suddenly changing his aspect, he said with crafty 
 politeness : 
 
 "So it is you, Citizen Louvet? Pray forgive me 
 my impoliteness, which you may attribute to your 
 disguise, I assure youl"
 
 A WOMAN'S SENSE OF HONOR. 135 
 
 "Say rather to your tyranny," returned Louvet de- 
 fiantly. "For it was you who suggested the motion 
 by which I was declared an outlaw." 
 
 ''Oh, yes, I remember now!" said the despot with 
 assumed indifference; adding, "I believe it was you 
 who demanded my accusation was it not ?" 
 
 "Yes, it was I who denounced you as a tyrant !" cried 
 Louvet with fierce vehemence. "And let me warn 
 you, cruel despot, that others will soon follow my 
 example !" 
 
 Robespierre trembled slightly at this prophecy; 
 then, motioning toward Mademoiselle Vauban with 
 hypocritical solicitude, he said mildly : 
 
 "Pray contain yourself, Citizen Louvet! If you are 
 angry with me, reserve your rage for another occasion. 
 Remember that we are in the presence of a fraii 
 woman !" 
 
 He could not have employed a more effectual means 
 of bringing the young man back to cool reason, than 
 by appealing to his sense of respect toward the gentler 
 sex. The thought that he had given way to his indig- 
 nation in the presence of Louise Vauban filled him with 
 such shame that he blushed to the roots of his hair. 
 He was about to apologize for his rudeness, when the 
 girl reassured him with a look, and, turning to Robes- 
 pierre, remarked scornfully : 
 
 "Reproof on uncourteous behaviour comes with but 
 a poor grace from you, M. Robespierre ; for, if I re- 
 member rightly, you are not overcourteous yourself. 
 It was not so very long ago that a lady of your ac- 
 quaintance condescended to visit your lodgings on an
 
 136 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 errand of mercy and love. How did you treat her, M. 
 Robespierre? If my memory is correct, you ignored 
 her appeals to your mercy, and, with unparalleled 
 rudeness, turned abruptly on your heel and left the 
 room. Is it not so, M. Robespierre?" 
 
 This sudden revelation of his conduct overwhelmed 
 the artful hypocrite with confusion, which he endeav- 
 ored to hide under the cloak of his zeal for the Re- 
 public. 
 
 "If I acted as rudely as you say I did," he replied 
 with assumed ardor, "it was because my duty to the 
 Republic required it." 
 
 "And does your duty to the Republic require you 
 to intrude upon my privacy?" 
 
 "I have come here as a friend," answered Robes- 
 pierre, throwing a significant glance toward his enemy, 
 and then relapsing into silence. 
 
 Realizing that Jean Louvet stood in imminent dan- 
 ger of arrest, and that, if he delayed his departure 
 much longer, escape would be impossible, Louise re- 
 solved to urge him to leave the house at once. So, 
 advancing toward him haughtily, she made him a stiff 
 curtsy, artfully contrived to present her back to Robes- 
 pierre, and, casting upon him a passionate glance, 
 which gave the lie to her chilling words and manner, 
 said with assumed indifference : 
 
 "I am sorry, Citizen Louvet, that I cannot do any- 
 thing to help you. I pardon your coming here in dis- 
 guise; but I command you never to do so again. 
 Even now I fear you have compromised my reputation 
 as a true daughter of the Republic/'
 
 A WOMAN'S SENSE OF HONOR. 137 
 
 This studied speech was followed by a brief collo- 
 quy of glances. From Jean Louvet's eloquent eyes 
 there flashed the anxious question : 
 
 "Are you safe alone with this man?" 
 
 To which the radiant orbs of the girl made answer : 
 
 "Perfectly." 
 
 Apparently satisfied with this mute reply, Jean Lou- 
 vet put on an air of disappointment, sighed deeply, 
 returned the lady's curtsy with a cool bow, and quickly 
 left the room. 
 
 It may be asked Why did Robespierre allow his 
 mortal enemy to escape him, when he had him within 
 his grasp? 
 
 The reply to this question can be given in a very 
 few words. Jean Louvet was an athlete ; Robespierre 
 was weak and slender. Their meeting took place in 
 the rear of a great mansion whose only inhabitants 
 were two frail women. It is apparent, therefore, that 
 Robespierre was in a position of far greater peril than 
 his enemy. 
 
 If he had attempted to seize Jean Louvet, the latter 
 would undoubtedly have overpowered him. If he had 
 cried aloud for assistance, Jean Louvet would have 
 throttled him on the instant. Moreover, it would have 
 been impossible for him to have withdrawn quietly 
 from the house, to bring citizens, or gendarmes, back 
 with him, without allowing his enemy an opportunity 
 to escape during his absence. Confronted with these 
 dilemmas, the despot adopted the most prudent plan 
 of awaiting a safer chance to ensnare Jean Louvet. 
 
 When the latter had been gone some minutes,
 
 138 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Louise turned sharply toward Robespierre and said 
 haughtily : 
 
 "Well, sir, I am ready to receive your apologies." 
 
 ''My apologies ?" 
 
 "Yes, for intruding into my presence, or rather 
 breaking like a thief into this house." 
 
 "As to intruding into your apartments, I will ex- 
 plain my reasons later. As regards your charge of 
 forcible entrance, I will deny it most emphatically 
 now." 
 
 Louise shrugged her shoulders and curled her lip in 
 disdain. 
 
 "Nevertheless all the doors and windows were fast- 
 ened," she said contemptuously. 
 
 Robespierre dipped into his pocket, and drew forth 
 a great brass key, which he exhibited to the girl with 
 an air of insolent triumph. 
 
 "Do you recognize this ?" he asked. 
 
 Louise did not deign to reply; whereupon Robes- 
 pierre continued in tones expressive of sorrow : 
 
 "That key belongs to your father, who gave it to 
 me yesterday, with the request that I would take good 
 care of his daughter after his death. You see he knows 
 I am still his friend, although you scorn to believe it, 
 my girl. And yet I see no reason for your doubting 
 my sincerity." 
 
 While he was delivering this explanation, Louise 
 glanced furtively at the key, and saw that it was the 
 one her father was in the habit of carrying about his 
 person. It fitted the huge brass lock of a private door
 
 A WOMAN'S SENSE OF HONOR. 139 
 
 to the mansion, which was used by M. Vauban when 
 returning from a late sitting of the Convention. 
 
 "Well, I will forgive the manner of your entrance," 
 she said, somewhat mollified by this evidence of his 
 truthfulness; adding, "but you have not yet explained 
 the errand that prompted this visit." 
 
 "If I should tell you it was an unselfish one, you 
 might doubt me again," said Robespierre. 
 
 "Not if you speak the truth," she answered frankly. 
 
 "Very well then, I will begin." 
 
 Saying which, he drew a chair near the divan to 
 which she had returned, and, regardless of her evident 
 mistrust, began his story. 
 
 "You blame me, Citizeness Vauban, for prompting 
 your father's arrest. Well, allowing that I did, was I 
 not right?" 
 
 "Right?" echoed the girl drawing back from him 
 with a shudder of horror. "It was the act of either a 
 lunatic, or a monster!" 
 
 "Alas!" exclaimed the despot in tones of genuine 
 feeling, "must I always be misjudged for my most un- 
 selfish acts ?" 
 
 "Unselfish?" cried Louise. "Why you must cer- 
 tainly have lost your reason, to condemn your friend 
 to death, and call it unselfish." 
 
 Robespierre dropped his head upon his breast, and 
 moaned like one in torture; but this expression of 
 weakness lasted but a moment. 
 
 Suddenly he arose from his chair, and uplifted both 
 arms toward the ceiling, crying aloud in a frenzy of 
 enthusiasm :
 
 140 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "I call upon God to attest the sincerity of my mo- 
 tives !" 
 
 The next instant, he folded his arms across his 
 chest, and fixed upon the terrified girl a glance that 
 fairly blazed with fanaticism. 
 
 "Unselfish ! Yes I repeat that I am unselfish !" he 
 exclaimed, "For is it not an act of sublime self-abnega- 
 tion to sacrifice one's dearest friends to the cause of 
 humanity? I have sacrificed the witty and charming 
 Desmoulins, and the lion-hearted Danton, because 
 they stood in the way of our great Republic. And I 
 have now imprisoned my most beloved friend, Vau- 
 ban, because his wealth and prodigality proclaimed 
 him an aristocrat at heart. Nor is that all," he added, 
 completely carried away by his egotistic zeal : "if it were 
 for the good of the Republic that I, myself, should be 
 removed, most willingly, gladly would I mount the 
 steps of the scaffold and bare, with my own hands, 
 my neck for the guillotine." 
 
 During this impassioned declamation, Louise re- 
 garded him with a half frightened, half doubtful look, 
 such as she might have bestowed on some curious, yet 
 appalling, monster from another world. When he had 
 finished, however, she smiled up at him with the con- 
 fidence of one who has at last solved a difficult prob- 
 lem, and said with exquisite irony : 
 
 "It is apparent, M. Robespierre, that you consider 
 yourself and the Republic of France as identical." 
 
 Perhaps the sublime egotist was abashed at her 
 daring criticism, or it might have been that he had 
 exhausted his powers of oratory in one fiery outburst ;
 
 A WOMAN'S SENSE OF HONOR. 141 
 
 for certain it is that his ardor suddenly cooled, and 
 that he resumed his seat and composure at the same 
 time. 
 
 When he had fully recovered his breath, he assumed 
 an affable smile, and turned the conversation into a 
 more peaceful channel. 
 
 "Pardon me, Citizeness !" he said, "for allowing 
 my enthusiasm to draw me away from explaining the 
 reasons for paying you this visit. However, I will 
 make amends for my forgetfulness by revealing them 
 now." 
 
 Louise observed that the lurid light of fanaticism 
 had subsided in his eyes, and that their pupils had 
 gradually contracted to mere peepholes through which 
 craft, suspicion and falsehood peered out by turns. 
 
 ''This wily man intends to entrap me," she reflected 
 with the intuitive mistrust which so many women 
 possess. "Well," she mused further, "it may be wise 
 to learn his designs, so I will pretend to be duped by 
 his cunning and lead him on to betray them.'* 
 
 Robespierre resumed : 
 
 "My chief reason for paying you this visit," said he, 
 "is to conspire with you to save your father from the 
 guillotine. You cannot understand how dearly I love 
 him, and how anxiously I have been plotting to save 
 his head." , 
 
 "You are very kind," murmured Louise, pretending 
 to be deeply grateful, "and if I can help you to accom- 
 plish your noble purpose I will be very happy." 
 
 "I am glad to hear you speak in that way," returned
 
 142 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Robespierre in tones of satisfaction; "for I now feel 
 certain that your father can be saved." 
 
 Louise expressed the liveliest joy at this assurance, 
 and, falling upon her knees at his feet, cried excitedly : 
 
 "May God bless you for those words ! Oh, I knew 
 you would not let my father perish ! But tell me, 
 what must I do to save him ?" 
 
 Believing that it was now time to broach his real 
 purpose, the cunning despot placed his long hands 
 upon her luxuriant tresses, and smoothed them with 
 all the tenderness of a father. Then he began to unveil 
 his treacherous design with an audacity that was won- 
 derfully direct. 
 
 "To begin," said he, "I would like you to explain 
 how it happened that you were harboring an outlaw 
 in your house, at the time I came hither to visit you ?" 
 
 Louise laughed gaily. 
 
 "Oh, it came about through no fault of mine, you 
 may be sure," she replied. "M. Louvet came here 
 uninvited and in disguise; and, as I knew him to be 
 a Representative of the people, I very naturally ad- 
 mitted him when he told me that he was in distress." 
 
 "Then you did not know he had been outlawed ?" 
 
 "Not then." 
 
 "Nor that he is planning to effect my ruin ?" 
 
 "Why, such an idea is preposterous !" 
 
 And Louise broke out into another peal of laughter. 
 
 "You have no especial interest in Citizen Louvet's 
 welfare?" 
 
 "How could I?" replied Louise, with difficulty re-
 
 A WOMAN'S SENSE OF HONOR. 143 
 
 straining her emotions. "Why M. Louvet is no more 
 than an acquaintance." 
 
 "Nevertheless he came here for protection and as- 
 sistance!" exclaimed Robespierre, his brow suddenly 
 darkening with suspicion. 
 
 Noticing this evidence of mistrust, Louise raised her 
 eyes to the tyrant's face and asked innocently : 
 
 "But why do you ask these questions, M. Robes- 
 pierre? What has this Louvet to do with my father?" 
 
 Robespierre bent close to her and whispered fiercely : 
 
 "Everything; for either one, or the other must 
 perish." 
 
 "Merciful God !" exclaimed the girl in mortal terror. 
 "What do you mean by those words?" 
 
 The tyrant's countenance assumed a cruel, sinister 
 expression. 
 
 "In affairs of this kind," he replied coolly, "it is 
 generally wise to convey one's meaning by inference. 
 But it is evident that with you I must make an ex- 
 ception." 
 
 "Listen !" he continued, fixing his snaky eyes upon 
 her. "I have said that either this outlaw, or your 
 father must inevitably die. It is the old story repeated 
 of Jesus and Barrabas. It is an alternative between an 
 outlaw and a noble man. I appoint- you to choose 
 between them. Come, which shall it be? Whose life 
 shall be spared? Shall if be that of the outlaw, Jean 
 Louvet? Or that of the good Republican, Alphonse 
 Vauban?" 
 
 While he was giving utterance to these terrible 
 words, Louise suddenly sprang to her feet, and re-
 
 144 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 treated step by step to the opposite end of the parlor. 
 There she stood, with both hands clutching the back 
 of a chair, and her head thrown back, so that the 
 astonishment and horror which blazed in her eyes 
 threw a ghastly light upon her pale, set features. 
 
 "Have you come here to scoff at my misery?" she 
 muttered faintly. 
 
 "On the contrary I have come here to relieve it," 
 answered Robespierre; and he added, with a hoarse 
 and jeering laugh : "Gome, Citizeness Vauban, I am 
 not to be deceived. That you know the secret hiding 
 place of this Louvet is apparent. Tell me where I can 
 find him, and I will release your father from prison; 
 otherwise" and here he snapped his fingers viciously 
 "I will see that your father is guillotined." 
 
 Having revealed his whole plan to the girl, he as- 
 sumed his habitual melancholy expression, and began 
 pacing the room with rapid, nervous strides. 
 
 Suddenly he heard a cry of inexpressible anguish ; 
 then a heart-broken sigh, a plaintive repetition of the 
 words "What baseness ! What 'treachery! What in- 
 conceivable villainy !" and finally a question ad- 
 dressed to him in a voice that shook his very soul. 
 
 "So you actually believe me capable of betraying an 
 honest, noble friend into your power?" 
 
 He was silent. 
 
 The same voice rang out in quivering tones : 
 
 "No, not to save my father! Not to save myself! 
 Not even to escape the pains of hell would I betray 
 Jean Louvet!" 
 
 These words were quickly followed by the rustling
 
 A WOMAN'S SENSE OF HONOR. 145 
 
 of silken skirts, and, ere Robespierre could recover 
 from his chagrin, Louise Vauban appeared suddenly 
 before him. 
 
 With the gesture of a queen, she pointed imperiously 
 toward the door, and, transfixing him with the light- 
 ning of her eyes, 
 
 "Depart, vile wretch !" she cried defiantly. 
 
 With a look of intense hatred, the merciless despot 
 obeyed her in silence, nor did he recover from his 
 humiliation until he reached the open air.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ANDRE DEPARTS ON A MISSION. 
 
 LOUISE VAUBAN'S vigorous denunciation of Robes- 
 pierre was followed by several important conse- 
 quences. 
 
 When the tyrant entered her parlor, he had no 
 knowledge that she was even an acquaintance of Jean 
 Louvet. For the real object of his visit was to obtain 
 from her certain desirable information, by pretending 
 a deep interest in her father's fate, expressing a hypo- 
 critical sympathy with her misfortune, and offering to 
 do all in his power to save his friend, Vauban. Hav- 
 ing thus regained her entire confidence, he had no 
 doubt that she would fall a victim to his treachery, and 
 reply to his artful questionings out of pure gratitude 
 and simple trust. 
 
 But, on beholding her in secret conference with the 
 very man who had denounced him before the Con- 
 vention, this design was immediately abandoned. His 
 suspicions were aroused to a degree bordering on cer- 
 tainty; and, with the keen insight that characterized 
 his intellect, he divined the nature of their relationship 
 at once. 
 
 "So is was for love of Louise Vauban," he reasoned, 
 "that this daring young man ventured to inflame the 
 H6]
 
 ANDK& DEPARTS ON A MISSION. 147 
 
 Representatives against me. True he was defeated in 
 his first attempt; yet it is evident that Mademoiselle 
 will persuade him to try again." 
 
 Now, as Robespierre's friends in the Convention 
 had described to him all that had occurred there, on 
 the morning that Representative Louvet had de- 
 manded his accusation, the tyrant was fully aware that 
 he had passed through a crisis which it would be per- 
 ilous to disregard. Moreover, the bold St. Just had 
 warned him that his enemies in the Convention were 
 increasing, and that a repetition of Jean Louvet's act 
 must be averted by prompt and resolute action. So 
 the tyrant, now thoroughly alarmed, regarded Louvet 
 as a dangerous enemy, who must be captured and 
 executed at once to insure his own safety. 
 
 On discovering his friendship with Louise, there- 
 fore, he immediately conceived the design of making 
 her the instrument of securing the person of this 
 enemy. 
 
 "If I offer to release her father," he thought, "in 
 exchange for this lawless traitor, she will doubtless 
 surrender him, with all his associates, into my hands." 
 
 But, like many other well-devised plans, there was a 
 flaw in that of Robespierre, which, but for the 
 treachery of his own nature, he might easily have 
 detected from the first. In making his calculations, 
 he had neglected to include two things a high sense 
 of honor, and a spirit of true heroism to sustain it. 
 
 Having failed to corrupt the noble girl, he quickly 
 returned to his lodgings, where he discovered his 
 trusted barber in the act of ransacking the contents of
 
 148 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 his wardrobe. His rage on beholding this spectacle 
 has already been described. 
 
 Andre the Barber waited calmly, until Robespierre 
 had restored the paper to his pocket, and then, re- 
 marked good-humoredly: 
 
 "It is apparent that my dear patron has lost his tem- 
 per this morning, or he would not speak so harshly 
 to his devoted Andre." 
 
 Robespierre regarded him with astonishment. 
 
 "What !" he exclaimed, furiously, "am I to be defied 
 and insulted by my very barber?" 
 
 "I insult you ? I defy you ?" 
 
 And Andre bowed his head upon his breast de- 
 jectedly, as if he had received a mortal injury. 
 
 Completely bewildered by his behavior, Robespierre 
 began to think it possible that he had really wronged 
 him. Yet he was resolved to probe the affair to the 
 bottom, as recent events had thoroughly aroused his 
 suspicions. 
 
 "Don't stand there like a whipped school-boy, you 
 impudent rascal !" he cried ; "but lift your head, and 
 answer truthfully to my questions !" 
 
 Andre the Barber raised his face slowly, and then 
 it could be seen that two crocodile tears were cours- 
 ing down his cheeks. 
 
 "What were you doing in that wardrobe?" asked 
 Robespierre, pointing toward the great mahogany 
 case that contained his most cherished treasures. 
 
 "I was admiring the beautiful garments that adorn
 
 ANDRE DEPARTS ON A MISSION. 149 
 
 your sacred person," and Andre succeeded in forcing 
 two additional tears from his sorrowful eyes. 
 
 It would have been impossible for him to have 
 given a more fortunate answer to the despot's query; 
 for it had struck directly upon the most vulnerable 
 spot in his armor. Robespierre continued in a milder 
 tone : 
 
 "But what was your motive in searching my pock- 
 ets, may I ask?" 
 
 "Curiosity," stammered the barber meekly. "Idle 
 curiosity, nothing more." 
 
 "And was your inquisitiveness rewarded ?" 
 
 "In one way, yes ! In another, no !" 
 
 "Explain yourself!" 
 
 "I discovered that you are as neat as you are noble ; 
 for there was not so much as a speck of dust in your 
 pockets. But," added Andre with a look of disap- 
 pointment, "I greatly regret that I could find nothing 
 to carry away as a memento of your friendship." 
 
 Robespierre's brow was beginning to brighten ; yet 
 he determined to ask one question more. Again draw- 
 ing the paper, containing the names of his enemies, 
 from his pocket, he held it close to Andre's eyes, and 
 inquired with a penetrating glance : 
 
 "But had you found this list would you have taken 
 it as a memento ?" 
 
 "I would have left it undisturbed/' cried Andre; 
 adding with pretended indignation, "Such a question 
 is unworthy of you, Citizen Robespierre. It implies 
 a doubt of my integrity."
 
 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "And what if I do doubt it?" returned the tyrant, 
 with a sneer. 
 
 This time the artful Andre threw down the winning 
 card. 
 
 "It would convince me that you are the biggest fool 
 in France, and not the great apostle of liberty I have 
 thought you," he cried, boldly. 
 
 "You speak in enigmas," said Robespierre. 
 
 "Yet they are easily solved," retorted Andre. "Let 
 me explain : Would you not be a colossal fool to allow 
 a man, whose honesty you doubted, to place a razor 
 on your throat? Would you not be utterly unworthy 
 of the confidence of the nation, if, threatened on all 
 sides as you are, you invited assassination by exposing 
 your precious life in such a foolhardy manner? You 
 know as well as I, Citizen Robespierre, that the future 
 of the Republic is in your keeping, and I would deem 
 you the greatest of criminals, if you did not take every 
 precaution to preserve your health and life for the 
 welfare of the brave people who adore you." 
 
 This short, but eloquent oration was interrupted by 
 a profound sigh that seemed to struggle up from the 
 depths of Andre's heart ; then, averting his face from 
 Robespierre's, and feigning to brush the tears from his 
 eyes, the artful barber resumed, in a voice half-choked 
 with emotion : 
 
 "Alas! my noble patron doubts my honor, and 
 naught is left me but to resign from his service." 
 
 Even Robespierre himself was no match for such 
 consummate hypocrisy. In an instant all his faith and
 
 DEPARTS ON A MISSION. i$t 
 
 trust in Andre returned, and, clasping him in an ardent 
 embrace, 
 
 "What! leave my service, Andre? Never, my dear 
 friend !" he cried. "If I have offended you, I ask 
 forgiveness ; for I trust you implicitly." 
 
 A reconciliation between hypocrites! What a sub- 
 ject for Moliere ! 
 
 Nevertheless, it did not result as happily as it prom- 
 ised. For, notwithstanding his return of confidence, 
 Robespierre was far too prudent to permit his barber 
 to again have the freedom of his lodgings. On the 
 contrary, he found an occasion that very day to dis- 
 patch him on an important errand far from Paris, 
 which, in view of recent circumstances, poor Andre 
 was obliged to undertake, although it prevented him 
 from attending the midnight conference appointed by 
 his Chief. 
 
 After he had departed on his mission, Robespierre 
 stole quietly from his lodgings, and passed several 
 hours in wandering aimlessly through the suburban 
 fields. But, although his footsteps were erratic, his 
 mind moved with marvelous precision toward the ob- 
 ject of accomplishing the arrest and execution of Jean 
 Louvet. 
 
 Having been foiled in .his interview with Made- 
 moiselle Vauban, his thoughts were next directed to- 
 ward the accomplices who had rescued his enemy from 
 the mob in St. Antoine. He now remembered that it was 
 only on the preceding evening that he had himself 
 ordered the arrest and immediate arraignment of these 
 two men before the bar of the Revolutionary Tribunal.
 
 1 52 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 But what good could result from their execution? 
 It would mean two suspects removed from his path; 
 but could they not serve his purposes in a better way, 
 if spared? If permitted their present freedom, it was 
 probable that they would communicate with their 
 Chief, and thus lead his spies to the place where he 
 lay concealed. 
 
 With such thoughts still agitating his mind, Robes- 
 pierre finally left off wandering, and returned quickly 
 to his lodgings on the Rue Saint Honore.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 SIMON EXPERIENCES A SURPRISE. 
 
 STILL pressing Madame Fontenai's letter close to his 
 beating heart, Simon the Jailer accompanied the gen- 
 darmes to the dread chamber of the Revolutionary 
 Tribunal. As he was a man of great moral courage, 
 he walked between them fearlessly, thinking far more 
 of the lady's letter than of himself. 
 
 "Is not this an extraordinary proceeding?" he in- 
 quired of one of his guardians. "Why, I have been 
 accustomed to see prisoners consigned to the Houses 
 of Arrest before being tried." 
 
 "Aye," was the surly response; "but yours is no 
 ordinary case, Citizen. You stand accused of having 
 rescued an outlaw from justice, you must remember." 
 
 "Then why not to the guillotine at once?" cried 
 Simon the Jailer defiantly. "Why this mockery of 
 justice, in forejudging my case at all ?" 
 
 "You will be granted the privilege of defense, when 
 you appear at the bar of the Tribunal." 
 
 Saying which the gendarmes bade him be silent 
 and hurried him on. 
 
 The spectacle of a municipal jailer in the custody 
 of two officers of the law was sufficiently novel to ex- 
 cite curiosity in many of the people, and, before they
 
 154 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 had reached the great building, where the sanguinary 
 Tribunal was then in session, they found it difficult to 
 push their way through the howling mob. 
 
 "You're good at handling the canaille, you rascal !" 
 said one of the gendarmes, laughing coarsely. "Come, 
 let us see what you can do to help us out of this 
 pressure !" 
 
 "Are you in earnest?" asked Simon, quickly. 
 
 The gendarme turned suddenly pale. 
 
 "Stir them up with one word and you're a dead 
 man !" he whispered, fiercely. 
 
 A short time afterwards, they entered the gloomy 
 chamber of the Tribunal, and Simon was conducted 
 to a bench to await the calling of his case. As the 
 terrible Fouquier-Tinville was in a rare mood for 
 business, however, his patience was by no means ex- 
 hausted before he was summoned to the bar. 
 
 "Your name?" asked St. Just, who was presiding. 
 
 "I am known as Simon the Jailer," replied the pris- 
 oner. 
 
 "Your age?" 
 
 "Twenty-eight years and a month to-morrow." 
 
 "Your present occupation?" 
 
 "A jailer in the Luxembourg Prison." 
 
 "You may be seated, while the Public Accuser pre- 
 sents his charges." 
 
 Whereupon, the two gendarmes, who still had him 
 in their custody, seized him rudely by the shoulders, 
 and hurried him back to the bench. 
 
 Almost at the same instant, Tinville stepped quickly 
 forward, and read a short accusation, charging him
 
 SIMON EXPERIENCES A SURPRISE. 155 
 
 with aiding an outlaw to escape. When he had 
 finished this preliminary, he suddenly burst out 
 into a violent harangue, demanding the immediate 
 conviction and condemnation of the accused. 
 
 "The prisoner may come forward!" exclaimed St. 
 Just, when Tinville had concluded his short argument. 
 
 Simon the Jailer arose and advanced to the bar. 
 
 "Have you anything to say in refutation of these 
 charges ?" 
 
 "Nothing; since I am already forejudged," replied 
 the prisoner. 
 
 The Judges, constituting the Tribunal, were in the 
 act of consulting together, according to the per- 
 functory methods that characterized their proceedings, 
 when a messenger ran breathlessly into the chamber, 
 approached them hurriedly, and handed a letter to 
 St. Just. 
 
 "It is from Robespierre, and must be read at once," 
 he whispered, excitedly. 
 
 At this, St. Just broke open the seal ; ran his eyes 
 over the words of the message ; after which he passed 
 it to his associates to be read in turn. A brief con- 
 sultation followed. Then St. Just turned quickly 
 toward the prisoner, and pronounced his sentence in 
 the following remarkable words : 
 
 "After considering your case very carefully, my 
 good citizen, we have concluded to grant you an ac- 
 quittal ; for the charges against you are sustained by 
 no evidences of your guilt in this affair." Then, turn- 
 ing to the gendarmes, "You may conduct the accused
 
 1 56 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 to the Luxembourg and set him free," he added 
 peremptorily. 
 
 At this unexpected termination to his adventure, 
 Simon the Jailer was dumbfounded, nor was it until 
 he had reached the Luxembourg that he was enlight- 
 ened as to its real significance. Happening to again 
 meet Madame Fontenai, he told her his entire story; 
 whereupon she warned him urgently that he must 
 maintain from henceforth the greatest vigilance 
 against spies. 
 
 That he was deeply impressed by her advice will be 
 seen by his subsequent conduct. 
 
 M. Tallien was hastening from the Convention Hall 
 that evening, on his way to keep an engagement with 
 a friend, when he was accosted by a man attired in the 
 garb of a common laborer. 
 
 "Have I the honor of addressing Representative 
 Tallien ?" he asked, respectfully lifting his cap. 
 
 "Yes, I am Citizen Tallien," was the answer. "What 
 do you desire of me ?" 
 
 "You have a dear friend in the Luxembourg Prison, 
 I believe ?" ventured the laborer timidly. 
 
 M. Tallien started and turned pale. 
 
 "How do you know that?" he inquired, anxiously. 
 
 The man lowered his voice to a whisper and replied 
 quickly : 
 
 "M. Tallien, I am the bearer of a letter to you from 
 Madame Fontenai. She assured me that you are her
 
 IT WAS AN ELOQUENT APPEAL TO HIM TO SAVE 
 
 HER. Page 157.
 
 SIMON EXPERIENCES A SURPRISE. 157 
 
 dearest friend, and so I consented to risk my life to 
 bring it to you." 
 
 "But who are you?" asked Tallien, suspiciously. 
 
 "My name is Simon, and I am employed as a jailer 
 in the Luxembourg." 
 
 Apparently satisfied with this explanation, Tallien 
 exclaimed, eagerly : 
 
 "The letter ! The letter ! Give it me !" 
 
 Simon the Jailer drew a sealed packet from his 
 blouse, and slipped it into M. Tallien's hand. 
 Then he turned on his heel and walked rapidly away. 
 
 When he had disappeared from view, M. Tallien 
 turned aside into a neighboring wine shop, and, taking 
 a seat in a secluded corner, proceeded to read Madame 
 Fontenai's letter. 
 
 It was an eloquent appeal to him to save her. Her 
 entreaties for herself were accompanied by expressions 
 of the most ardent solicitude on his behalf. She called 
 upon him to save his own head from the guillotine. 
 
 She asserted that she had positive information that 
 he was doomed. His fiery audacity had offended 
 Robespierre. Moreover, he was a Dantonist, against 
 whom lay many grudges. Fawning upon the tyrant 
 would have no effect now. If Tallien and his friends, 
 Bourdon, Freron, Barras and the others, did not 
 throw off their lethargy immediately, they would all 
 certainly perish.* 
 
 "Every word she has written is true," muttered Tal- 
 lien, thrusting the missive deep down in his pocket 
 
 * Carlyle's French Revolution, Vol. Ill,
 
 158 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "I have had words of ill-omen, so has Bourdon, while 
 Robespierre hates Freron and Barras." 
 
 And he hastened from the wine shop with a terror 
 in his heart greater than that which had hitherto in- 
 spired him. 
 
 Meanwhile, the workingman was cautiously making 
 his way toward the Faubourg St. Antoine.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 FRANCOIS RESORTS TO STRATEGY. 
 
 ON finding himself a prisoner in M. Barrere's cham- 
 ber, Frangois the Idler elevated his eyebrows, puck- 
 ered up his lips, and emitted a low, prolonged whistle 
 indicative of surprise. Then he ran quickly to the 
 door and rattled it with great violence. 
 
 "'Tis useless to resist, monsieur," cried one of his 
 guards through the key-hole ; "for, even if you succeed 
 in forcing the door, you would simply be killed for 
 your pains." 
 
 "Which would mean the guillotine for all of you !" 
 was Frangois' defiant rejoinder. 
 
 And, giving the door an additional rattle, he turned 
 about and strode boldly toward the windows. 
 
 On reaching the one to the right, he tore aside the 
 curtains, unloosened the fastenings of the sash, and 
 swung it wide open on its hinges. At he same moment 
 a warning voice called up to him from below, 
 
 "Stand back, or we'll shoot you dead, monsieur!" 
 
 Frangois threw a hasty glance in the direction of 
 his threatener, and beheld two armed men, standing 
 within close range, covering him with the muzzles of 
 their muskets, Realizing now that escape by force was
 
 l6o THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 impossible, he saluted the men derisively, and shouted 
 back : 
 
 "I did not intend to alarm you, good citizens ! I had 
 no idea of escaping; but merely opened the window 
 to admit the air." 
 
 With these words, he withdrew from the opening, 
 and began pacing the chamber, deep in thought. Whib 
 pondering on some means of regaining his liberty, he 
 chanced to glance casually upon a table. 
 
 Suddenly he came to a dead stop ; gazed fixedly at 
 some object on the table; then, darting eagerly for- 
 ward, and snatching it up in his trembling hands, 
 
 "Mon Dieu, it is the Chief's letter!" he cried, tri- 
 umphantly. 
 
 For a brief moment he hesitated, debating in his 
 mind whether he was warranted by his peculiar cir- 
 cumstances to read it ; then, having come to the con- 
 clusion that it would be no breach of honor to do so, 
 he sank into an armchair and perused it from begin- 
 ning to end. 
 
 Being as shrewd as he was bold, Francois recog- 
 nized at a glance that Jean Louvet held some secret 
 power over Barrere. One sentence of the epistle in 
 particular contained a world of mysterious meaning, 
 and Fran9ois vainly endeavored to penetrate its sig- 
 nificance. It was this : 
 
 "/ might remind you of the obligations you owe ine 
 for past benefits, and put this request in the nature of 
 a command; but I prefer to trust to your friendship" 
 
 Having read this passage for perhaps the twentieth
 
 FRANCOIS RESORTS TO STRATEGY. l6l 
 
 time, Frangois contracted his brows and reflected 
 shrewdly in this wise: 
 
 "The Chief would never have written these words, 
 unless he had this purse-proud upstart at his mercy; 
 therefore would I not be justified in pretending to 
 know their secret, and frightening Barrere into sub- 
 mission ?" 
 
 "At least," he reflected further, "it is a stratagem 
 worth attempting, and may succeed if carried off with 
 an air of audacity." 
 
 So, he again approached the door, and shouted au- 
 thoritatively to the guards outside, "Fetch M. Barrere 
 hither ! I am weary of awaiting his pleasure." 
 
 "But my master has no desire for an interview," 
 came back the insolent reply. "He is amusing himself 
 in watching the road for the coming of the gen- 
 darmes." 
 
 "Do you love your master?" roared the prisoner; 
 "or would it please you to see him guillotined?" 
 
 Before the lackies could reply, M. Barrere himself 
 reappeared upon the scene, crying, angrily : 
 
 "What means this shouting, rascals? I'll have no 
 more of it!" 
 
 Recognizing his voice, Francois shouted boldly : 
 
 "So you hare seen fit to return, my high and mighty 
 aristocrat ?" 
 
 "Silence !" exclaimed Barrere, savagely. 
 
 "What !" cried Francois in amazement, "and permit 
 you to contrive your own ruin? Never, while I pos- 
 sess a knowledge of Jean Louvet's past benefits to 
 you, monsieur!"
 
 l62 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 The startled Barrere being utterly unable to reply 
 to this, Frangois pressed his advantage still further. 
 
 "My master placed confidence in your friendship," 
 he went on; "but, alas! you have forgotten all you 
 owe him." 
 
 Then, in order to cap his stratagem with a fitting 
 climax, Frangois the Idler raised his voice to its high- 
 est pitch, and made the house tremble with his threats. 
 
 "But an end to all courtesy !" he thundered. "This 
 man is incapable of gratitude! Therefore away with 
 all pretense of friendship, and resort to extremities at 
 once !" 
 
 Pausing for a moment to give emphasis to his 
 words, Frangois roared out : 
 
 "Harken, Barrere! In the name of Jean Louvet, 
 whom I serve, I command you, on peril of your life, 
 to comply with his request!" 
 
 These menacing words, uttered so imperatively, 
 filled the heart of M. Barrere with consternation. 
 
 "Can it be possible," he thought fearfully, "that this 
 stranger knows my secret?" 
 
 For he was not aware that the prisoner had just read 
 Louvet's letter, which he had carelessly left in his 
 chamber, and could put no other construction upon 
 his words. At first, therefore, he was dreadfully fright- 
 ened ; but presently the remembrance that Jean Louvet 
 was now a condemned outlaw, renewed his courage 
 and complacency to such a degree, that he found voice 
 to reply insolently : 
 
 "In the name of your master indeed, poor fool ! Why 
 Jean Louvet is an outlaw and a beggar,"
 
 FRANgOIS RESORTS TO STRATEGY. 163 
 
 "Say rather 'poor fool' to yourself !" laughed Fran- 
 
 is, "for despising the power of one, whom the Con- 
 vention outlawed through abject fear, and before 
 whom even the great Robespierre trembles. As re- 
 gards such a poor creature as yourself, Barrere, he has 
 but to raise his little finger, and you perish !" 
 
 "You exaggerate, monsieur," returned Barrere less 
 confidently. 
 
 "Then I'll speak out and you'll understand my 
 
 meaning 
 
 At this, Barrere became so thoroughly convinced 
 that the prisoner knew his secret, that he fell to 
 trembling more violently than ever. 
 
 "If you wish to explain, good citizen," he answered 
 meekly, "pray allow me to unlock the door and enter !" 
 
 Fran9ois growled a reluctant consent; whereupon 
 Barrere unlocked the door, and crept cautiously into 
 the apartment to confer with him. 
 
 Frangois the Idler, who was reclining complacently 
 in a chair, motioned his visitor to take a seat beside 
 him; and, when the latter had complied, he turned 
 upon him fiercely, and, assuming a knowing look, 
 asked suddenly : 
 
 "Are you anxious for me to explain? Shall I re- 
 count all the benefits you have received from Jean 
 Louvet, the man whom you imagine to be a beggar?" 
 
 "Is it true that I called him a beggar?" asked 
 Barrere. 
 
 "Yes, and an outlaw as well," cried Francois, with a 
 threatening scowl ; adding contemptuously, "but what 
 more could be expected from such a base ingrate ?"
 
 164 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "Alas, monsieur!" exclaimed Barrere, completely 
 deceived by Francois's strategem. "I see you know 
 my secret, and will save you from reminding me that 
 your master, Jean Louvet, saved my neck from the 
 guillotine. I had entered into a conspiracy, which it 
 is unnecessary to explain now, and would certainly 
 have perished but for his assistance. All my friends 
 had deserted me, I was neither rich nor influential ; 
 but your mysterious master befriended me by means 
 of a secret and extraordinary power. So, if I doubted 
 his ability now to protect me in this affair, I beg you 
 to forgive me for my baseness, and to accept my most 
 humble apology." 
 
 Francois looked him straight in the eyes. 
 
 "Then you will give this bachelor dinner in Robes- 
 pierre's honor?" 
 
 "Not only will I give it," replied Barrere with 
 enthusiasm, "but I will place Jean Louvet in charge of 
 every detail." 
 
 Francois arose from his chair, and said grandly. 
 
 "You have saved yourself from ruin by your grat- 
 itude." 
 
 Having thus succeeded in his errand, he took 
 Barrere's arm, and they both emerged from the cham- 
 ber walking side by side. 
 
 Frangois restrained his joy until he had passed be- 
 yond sight of the villa ; but then he indulged his emo- 
 tions in repeated outbursts of laughter. 
 
 "If I keep improving in strategy at this rate," he 
 reflected, "I'll soon be a match for the Chief, who
 
 FRANCOIS RESORTS TO STRATEGY. 165 
 
 knows more about the game of politics than any dip- 
 lomatist in Europe. 
 
 As by this time night was approaching, he quickened 
 his pace to a brisk walk, which he kept up until he 
 approached the Faubourg St. Antoine. But, as he en- 
 tered the tortuous lanes and byways of this gloomy 
 quarter, he slackened his gait and crept stealthily 
 toward the dismal wine-shop he frequented.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE CONSPIRATORS REPORT TO THEIR CHIEF 
 
 SHORTLY before midnight, on the same evening, two 
 men might have been seen moving cautiously along a 
 narrow alley, with the secret air of bravos having some 
 villainous business in hand. 
 
 One was following the other at a distance of five or 
 six paces, stopping when he stopped, and advancing 
 when he advanced, without increasing or diminishing 
 the space between them. 
 
 The man in front was attired in the red cap and 
 dingy blouse of a workingman ; the one who followed 
 was decked out in all the finery of a dandy of the pe- 
 riod. The workingman cast many a furtive glance over 
 his shoulder as he proceeded, apparently on the look- 
 out for skulking spies, or watchful gendarmes. The 
 dandy, however, kept his eyes fixed straight before 
 him, and swung a walking stick carelessly in his hand 
 as he advanced. 
 
 After making their way in this suspicious manner 
 for some distance, the workingman turned quickly 
 into a little lane, and, after penetrating it until he came 
 to a walled garden, vaulted lightly over the barrier into 
 the inclosure, and crept rapidly on hands and knees to 
 a concealed door in the rear of a pretentious mansion. 
 [166] .
 
 THE CONSPIRATORS REPORT TO THEIR CHIEF. 167 
 
 He had barely time to rap a summons on the oaken 
 panels, when tne dandy sprang nimbly into the garden, 
 and followed close on his trail to the secret door. 
 
 In the meantime the workingman had been admitted 
 to the mansion, and his steps were distinctly audible, 
 as he ascended a stairway in the interior. 
 
 Having knocked like his predecessor for admittance, 
 the dandy was in his turn permitted to enter the door- 
 way, and, a moment afterwards, the light tapping of 
 his dainty heels announced that he also was ascending 
 the stairway. 
 
 These nocturnal prowlers were none other than two 
 of Louvet's agents, returning to the Maison Rousseau 
 in obedience to his commands. Indeed, so prompt 
 were they in keeping their appointment that, ere the 
 last echo of their footfalls had died away upon the 
 stairs, the clock of a neighboring tower struck the 
 hour of midnight. 
 
 "You are prompt in keeping your appointment," 
 said Louvet, as Simon the Jailer entered the chamber 
 of conference. 
 
 And a moment afterwards, he added : 
 
 "And you also are prompt, Francois," as the young 
 dandy made his appearance. 
 
 A number of their fellow agents, who had arrived 
 before them, were occupying chairs opposite Jean 
 Louvet's table, conversing in low, eager tones, while 
 awaiting the stroke of the gavel to announce that the 
 secret session had begun. The two new arrivals 
 immediately joined them, but did not participate in 
 the whispered discourse.
 
 l68 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Ten minutes twenty minutes half an hour passed 
 by, and yet the gavel did not sound its call. 
 
 Meanwhile Jean Louvet's resolute face became more 
 anxious and expectant each minute. He threw fre- 
 quent glances toward the door, and, at every trivial 
 sound that disturbed the silence of the venerable man- 
 sion, bent eagerly forward in an attitude of attentive 
 listening. 
 
 "Why does the Chief postpone the hour of confer- 
 ence?" asked Fran9ois of his comrade Simon. 
 
 The Jailer elevated his brows and shoulders in that 
 eloquent gesture which signifies "Don't ask me; for 
 I am as much in the dark as you, my friend !" 
 
 A short time afterward, the conspirator who had 
 charge of the secret door, entered the apartment quiet- 
 ly, and handed Jean Louvet a sealed note. The Chief 
 glanced at the address calmly ; but, on recognizing the 
 peculiarities of the handwriting, changed color, mut- 
 tered angrily, and tore the missive open with trem- 
 bling fingers. 
 
 It could be seen that an expression of alarm passed 
 over his face, as he hurriedly read its contents. But 
 a moment later, he regained his composure, and, tak- 
 ing up the gavel, rapped with it sharply upon the table, 
 with the words : 
 
 "Attention, messieurs! Attention, mesdames! The 
 meeting is called to order, and we will proceed to bus- 
 iness at once." 
 
 Immediately all conversation ceased, and every eye 
 was fixed upon the venerable Dr. Narbonne, who, 
 in his capacity of secretary, arose from his place beside
 
 THE CONSPIRATORS REPORT TO THEIR CHIEF. 169 
 
 Jean Louvet, and read from his book of minutes the 
 proceedings of the previous meeting. On his resuming 
 his seat, the Chief proceeded with the usual order of 
 business, until he finally reached the call for the 
 reports of the political agents under his command. 
 After several of both sexes had reported progress in 
 the business intrusted to them, Jean Louvet beckoned 
 Simon the Jailer to approach his table ; for the mission 
 upon which this conspirator had been sent was of a 
 particular and secret nature. 
 
 "Well," asked Louvet, as Simon bent low across the 
 table, "what news? Have you done anything as yet?" 
 
 "Madame Fontenai wrote the letter you prompted, 
 and I delivered it to M. Tallien this evening." 
 
 "Excellent!" exclaimed Louvet, with a pleased 
 smile ; adding, "Have you anything else to report ?" 
 
 At this Simon the Jailer bent closer toward his 
 Chief, and hurriedly related the story of his arrest, 
 trial and acquittal. 
 
 "On what charge were you apprehended?" asked 
 Louvet. 
 
 "I was accused of rescuing the outlawed Represen- 
 tative, Jean Louvet, from the fury of the mob." 
 
 "Then how came you to be acquitted?" 
 
 "I believe it was through Robespierre's interfer- 
 ence." 
 
 "Indeed ?" asked Louvet, in amazement. 
 
 Then he relapsed into thought, from which he quick- 
 ly aroused himself to repeat Madame Fontenai's 
 shrewd warning to the Jailer, to beware of skulking 
 spies.
 
 I/O THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 When Simon the Jailer had returned to his seat, 
 Louvet called Frangois the Idler to draw near. 
 
 "And what have you to report?" he inquired anx- 
 iously. 
 
 "That M. Barrere has not only consented to give 
 ^he banquet you suggested; but is desirous of surren- 
 dering the arrangements, in all their details, into your 
 hands." 
 
 Jean Louvet could hardly restrain his astonishment. 
 
 "Can it be possible," he asked eagerly, "that such a 
 conservative man complied with the request of an 
 outlaw so generously?" 
 
 Frangois regarded his Chief with a curious smile. 
 
 "Ah, thereby hangs a tale !" he whispered signifi- 
 cantly ; and, bending closer to Jean Louvet, gave him 
 a highly-colored narrative of his adventures. 
 
 The reports of the agents having been received, the 
 Chief of the conspirators dismissed the meeting, and 
 withdrew with Dr. Narbonne into the latter's study. 
 There he produced the letter the door-keeper had 
 handed him, and read it aloud to his wise friend and 
 counselor. It ran as follows : 
 
 "Most honored Chief : 
 
 "I have followed your instructions and placed my 
 life at hazard, in attempting to get possession of the 
 list you require. So far I have failed ; but I have at 
 least discovered where it can be found, and will con- 
 tinue my efforts to procure it. I was unable to attend 
 the conference to-night for this reason : My patron has 
 sent me on a private mission, far from Paris, which,
 
 THE CONSPIRATORS REPORT TO THEIR CHIEF. I?! 
 
 under the circumstances, I was compelled to under- 
 take. In three days, however, I will return from my 
 journey, and will then probably succeed in procuring 
 the paper you desire. 
 
 "Andre the Barber." 
 
 "Well," asked Dr. Narbonne, when he had finished, 
 "I suppose that means a postponement of your plans ?" 
 
 "On the contrary," replied Louvet, deliberately, "It 
 means that we must proceed with them with increased 
 vigor." 
 
 "But the list, my dear master," protested the cau- 
 tious old gentleman. "I was under the impression 
 that it was essential to your success." 
 
 Louvet arose from his chair with a gesture of im- 
 patience. 
 
 "It is too late to think of that now," he cried des- 
 perately, "the game has already begun, and the least 
 delay would prove fatal. We must play our cards just 
 as we hold them, and not wait for another deal. Do 
 you know," he added, lowering his voice almost to a 
 whisper, and looking into the doctor's face with an 
 expression of intense anxiety "Do you know," said 
 he, "that I met Robespierre face to face not later than 
 yesterday?" 
 
 The Doctor gaped up at him in amazement. 
 
 "Yes," continued Louvet, "and in the presence of 
 Mademoiselle Vauban. He cast upon me a look of 
 intense hatred, and I could read his heart so well, that 
 I realized at once he is about to destroy everyone who 
 stands in the way of his ambition with one compre-
 
 172 THE MAN WHO DARED. ' 
 
 hensive blow. That blow may be expected to fall at 
 any time now, and the only hope we have of advert- 
 ing it is by prompt and vigorous action without regard 
 to consequences." 
 
 "With the list in your possession you might possibly 
 succeed," said Dr. Narbonne, incredulously; adding, 
 "Without it you are certain to meet with failure." 
 
 Jean Louvet retired into his own apartment to reflect 
 long and doubtfully upon^his future proceedings. The 
 morning was already breaking in the east, when he 
 lay down to enjoy a few hours of repose, muttering 
 as his head struck the pillow, 
 
 "I will take Narbonne's advice. I will await Andre's 
 return before I go on. For that list of Robespierre's 
 enemies is absolutely necessary to my success in this 
 affair." 
 
 Such were his reflections as he dropped into uncon- 
 sciousness; nevertheless, his first act, after breakfast 
 on the following morning, was to select an effectual 
 disguise, steal out unobserved from the Maison Rous- 
 seau, and strike into the winding road that led in the 
 direction of Clichy. 
 
 Moreover, on arriving at M. Barrere's villa, he 
 sought an interview with that rich republican at once, 
 and, before leaving to return to Paris, had perfected 
 every detail for the banquet.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE BANQUET. 
 
 IN requesting his friend, Barrere, to give a dinner 
 in Robespierre's honor, Jean Louvet was actuated by a 
 shrewd political motive. A few words will be suffi- 
 cient to explain it.* 
 
 M. Barrere was regarded as one of Robespierre's in- 
 timates. But M. Vauban also had been considered a 
 close friend of the tyrant. Nevertheless, M. Vauban 
 had been arrested. Might not the same fate befall M. 
 Barrere ? 
 
 If this thing should happen during the dinner given 
 in Robespierre's honor, it could not fail to strike terror 
 into the hearts of all the Representatives present; for 
 who among them could feel that his head was safe, 
 when the despot condemned even his nearest friends 
 to the guillotine? It was for this reason that Jean 
 Louvet had requested M. Barrere to invite Robes- 
 pierre's chief opponents to the entertainment. 
 
 But what reasons had he to suppose that such an 
 event would happen ? 
 
 The strongest reasons possible. Like M. Vauban, 
 M. Barrere was a very wealthy man. He indulged 
 
 * Vilate gives a lively description of the remarkable dinner, 
 given by Barrere, in his villa at Clichy, which Carlyle refers to 
 briefly in his great history. 
 
 [173]
 
 1/4 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 in high-rouged pleasures, and surrounded himself with 
 elegance. His villa at Clichy was almost a palace, and 
 his manner of living there magnificent to a degree. 
 
 Jean had learned from Andre the Barber that Robes- 
 pierre was bitterly opposed to such ostentation, 
 which he regarded as a sure indication of aris- 
 tocratic tendencies. Indeed, it was on account 
 of his extravagant display, that M. Vauban 
 had incurred his despotic friend's displeasure. 
 Moreover, in order to make the reason for 
 his arrest obvious to all, it had been timed to take 
 place during the very height of the festivities given 
 in the Incorruptible One's honor. Was it not almost 
 certain, therefore, that the same dramatic scene would 
 be re-enacted during M. Barrere's dinner? 
 
 The fact that Robespierre was known to be medi- 
 tating a master stroke of politics, to rid the 'Republic 
 of his remaining enemies, as well as those friends who 
 had departed from democratic virtue, rendered such 
 an occurrence a foregone conclusion, and Jean Louvet 
 had planned artfully to bring it about. 
 
 But he did not intend to sacrifice his friend, Barrere, 
 to his own designs. On the contrary, his arrest was 
 intended to arouse such fear in the hearts of the Rep- 
 resentatives present, that they would be prompted to 
 desperate action by the next move Louvet made. 
 
 In fact, it was through this next move that he hoped 
 to accomplish Robespierre's downfall. 
 
 Andre the Barber had seen the tyrant examining 
 a list of those he intended to destroy. Louvet had 
 directed him to procure it at any hazard; and, as An-
 
 THE BANQUET. 175 
 
 dre was possessed of extraordinary shrewdness and 
 courage, his Chief was warranted, notwithstanding his 
 first doubts, in hoping that he would succeed in the at- 
 tempt. 
 
 The list once in his possession, it would be a simple 
 matter to send it to M. Tallien, enclosed in a letter 
 from Madame Fontenai Simon the Jailor acting as 
 their go-between requesting her lover to carry it with 
 him to Barrere's dinner, and, if his host should be ar- 
 rested, to take advantage of the consternation of the 
 guests, to read the names of the condemned then and 
 there. 
 
 Now, as the majority of the guests were to be Rep- 
 resentatives opposed to Robespierre, it was easy to 
 foresee the result. Finding themselves already con- 
 demned to the guillotine, they would combine in a body 
 against the tyrant; confronted by certain death, they 
 would be inspired with such supreme terror, that their 
 former fear of incurring the despot's displeasure would 
 sink into insignificance, and the instinct of self-preser- 
 vation would actuate them to attempt his downfall, as 
 the only chance of escaping destruction themselves. 
 
 But Andre the Barber had failed to return from his 
 mysterious mission; nor had the slightest intelligence 
 been received from him regarding the list he had prom- 
 ised to procure. What could be the reason for his de- 
 lay and silence ? Jean Louvet could not tell. All that 
 he knew of the matter was this : 
 
 It had placed him in an appalling situation. 
 
 True, it was still possible that Andre might get pos- 
 session of Robespierre's paper, perhaps at the eleventh
 
 176 THE MAN WHO DARED^ 
 
 hour, if not sooner; but, as he had not been informed 
 of its use in Louvet's plot, he would not know what 
 to do with it. Accordingly, Louvet had commissioned 
 Frangois the Idler to seek out his comrade, on his re- 
 turn to Paris; tell him of the banquet at Clichy; and 
 command him to forward the stolen document to Bar- 
 rere's villa, either through M. Tallien, or by any other 
 safe means he could devise. 
 
 Louvet knew that he was taking desperate chances 
 in thus hoping against hope ; but he dared not abandon 
 such a skillfully arranged plot, until the last moment. 
 Then if he were doomed to disappointment, he would 
 resort to a forlorn expedient which offered but the re- 
 motest possibility of success. 
 
 Early on the morning of the appointed day, Jean 
 Louvet walked calmly into Dr. Narbonne's study, and 
 announced, abruptly: 
 
 "I am going out." 
 
 "Going out ?" cried the Doctor in alarm. "Where ?" 
 
 "To Clichy, to attend Barrere's bachelor dinner." 
 
 "What madness!" exclaimed Dr. Narbonne. "You 
 would be recognized and arrested at once." 
 
 "That is hardly probably," answered Jean; "for I 
 intend to assume a disguise." 
 
 "A disguise?" 
 
 "Yes. I have arranged with my friend, Barrere, to 
 attend his dinner in the capacity of a lackey. He has 
 sent me a suit of his livery, and I have the art of dis- 
 guising my countenance, as you well know." 
 
 "But why must you attend this dinner?" asked Dr. 
 Narbonne, anxiously.
 
 THE BANQUET. 1 77 
 
 "To direct events into their proper channels." 
 
 An hour later, a young man, attired in the gorgeous 
 livery of M. Barrere's household servants, emerged 
 from the Maison Rousseau, and walked briskly in the 
 direction of Clichy. On arriving at his master's coun- 
 try seat, he went straightway to the banquet hall, 
 where he joined his brother lackeys in preparing the 
 table for the approaching feast. 
 
 As a number of extra servants had been engaged 
 for the occasion, the fact of his being a stranger was 
 not remarked. It was noticed, however, that he per- 
 formed his duties with hesitation, and was not an ex- 
 perienced servant. 
 
 M. Barrere's banquet hall was on the first floor of the 
 villa, and opened on one side upon a broad veranda, 
 from which a flight of steps led down into a beau- 
 tiful garden. As the day was extremely hot, all the 
 windows were left open, so that the perfumes from this 
 flowery domain were wafted into the apartment, to 
 mingle with the odors of rare and delicate blooms that 
 adorned the table. 
 
 If the air had been cooler, these odors would have 
 been delightful. As it was, they contributed to the op- 
 pressive effect upon the senses of the heated atmos- 
 phere. 
 
 This circumstance is mentioned, because, trifling as 
 it appears, it proved of vast moment to the future his- 
 tory of France. 
 
 The hour set for the dinner was one in the afternoon, 
 and the first of the guests began to arrive shortly after 
 midday. They were received by M. Barrere in his re-
 
 178 THE MAN WHO DARED. ' 
 
 ception room, where they were soon joined by others, 
 and formed into little groups, buzzing with wit and 
 laughter. 
 
 Among the earliest of the arrivals was M. Tallien. 
 Jean Louvet studied his face closely, as he passed by 
 him through the hall, but could observe nothing to in- 
 dicate that the fatal list was in his possession. His 
 countenance was placid, and his manner careless and 
 easy. 
 
 Shortly before one o'clock, Freron put in his appear- 
 ance, accompanied by Carnot, Collot d'Herbois, Bour- 
 don and Barras. Passing into the reception room, 
 they received the greeting of their host, and then 
 formed a group around Tallien. 
 
 At last one o'clock arrived ; yet Robespierre had not 
 come. 
 
 Was a repetition of the Vauban affair to occur? 
 It was evident that the guests thought so; for, as 
 minute after minute passed by, their faces became 
 more and more anxious. They whispered, cast fur- 
 tive glances toward the door, and then pitying looks at 
 their smiling host. 
 
 It was with the utmost difficulty that Louvet re- 
 pressed his mortification, on beholding these expres- 
 sions of anxiety. For they informed him that his 
 plans were moving just as he had anticipated; that 
 the time was fast approaching for his master-move; 
 and yet, fv,r want of a mere scrap of paper, all his 
 deeply laid designs were doomed to failure. 
 
 The thought of it rendered him desperate. 
 
 "The finger of fate is in this," he reflected, bitterly.
 
 THE BANQUET. 
 
 "It is evident that I must now await my chance to 
 carry out my last resource." 
 
 He was standing in a doorway, from which he could 
 observe all that occurred in the reception room, when 
 a hand was laid lightly upon his shoulder, and a voice 
 whispered in his ear: 
 
 "A word with you, Chief." 
 
 Turning toward the speaker, he recognized at a 
 glance, Andre the Barber, although he was disguised 
 as a lackey like himself. 
 
 It would be impossible to describe the joy that filled 
 his heart at this unexpected meeting with his agent. 
 In the surprise of the first moment, he stood motion- 
 less and dumbfounded; then he was seized with an 
 ecstacy that prompted him to sing and dance. 
 
 For did not Andre's presence at the banquet, and 
 in disguise, prove conclusively that he had Robes- 
 pierre's list in his possession? 
 
 "The sight of you fills me with joy !" he exclaimed. 
 "It inspires me with assurance of success !" 
 
 If he had not been so elated, he might, perhaps, 
 have remarked that Andre did not respond to his 
 greeting with the enthusiasm it merited. 
 
 "Come, my dear fellow," resumed Louvet, "explain 
 to me how you contrived to get here ?" 
 
 "Follow me into the garden, and I will tell you all." 
 
 "But that might attract attention," replied Louvet, 
 laughing softly. 
 
 "No; for I have been ordered there to cut more 
 roses for the table. I take you with me to assist do 
 you understand?"
 
 180 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "Perfectly," was the gay response; and Jean Lou- 
 vet motioned his agent to lead on. 
 
 When they had passed down the flight of steps, and 
 had entered the garden, the Chief resumed his ques- 
 tioning of his agent. 
 
 "So you were sent upon an errand?" he asked, in 
 a spirit of playfulness ; adding in tones of pretended 
 sternness, "By whom?" 
 
 "Why I told you in my letter," returned Andre, 
 in surprise. ' 
 
 "You mentioned a patron, but not his name," said 
 Louvet. 
 
 "I left that for you to surmise." 
 
 "Which I did, by guessing he was Robespierre. 
 Come, tell me where he sent you, my good Andre ?" 
 
 By this time they had reached a secluded spot, and 
 were completely surrounded by rose-bushes, which 
 bent beneath the weight of buds and full-blown flow- 
 ers. Wherever they looked, their eyes were delighted 
 by a profusion of exquisite colors; whenever they 
 breathed, they inhaled delicious odors. 
 
 "Come, answer my question," Jean Louvet repeated. 
 "Where did the tyrant send you?" 
 
 "Nowhere! Nowhere!" cried Andre, with an oath. 
 "He despatched me on an errand to get rid of me." 
 
 "To get rid of you ? For what reason ?" 
 
 "Because he suspected and feared me ;" and Andre 
 fell vigorously to work, culling roses for the table. 
 
 Until then, Jean Louvet had been thoroughly con- 
 vinced that his agent had at last succeeded in pro- 
 curing the desired paper. Indeed, his sudden display
 
 THE BANQUET. l8l 
 
 of gaiety on first recognizing him was but the natural 
 consequence of his belief that such was the case. But 
 Andre's strange answers to his questions had some- 
 what shaken his confidence, and he resolved to ascer- 
 tain the truth at once. So, without changing his tone, 
 or manner, he remarked, casually : 
 
 "It would have been wiser in Robespierre, your 
 patron, to have suspected and feared you before ;" add- 
 ing, "It can avail him nothing to be cautious, now that 
 you have secured his list." 
 
 Andre suddenly stopped in his work, and looked 
 shame-facedly upon the ground ; observing which, his 
 Chief resumed more sternly: 
 
 "Is it not so? Come, don't stand moping- there; 
 but raise your face and answer me like a man !" 
 
 At this Andre uplifted his face, down which huge 
 tears were trickling, and broke out, with a gesture of 
 disappointment : 
 
 "Alas, Chief ! Your plot is doomed to miscarry ; for 
 I have failed you !"
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE FATAL LIST. 
 
 "FAILED me ?" cried Jean Louvet, aghast, "What do 
 you mean?" 
 
 "That it was impossible for me to steal the list you 
 needed." 
 
 Louvet's face became pale beneath the paint that 
 disguised it; but he never lost his composure for an 
 instant. 
 
 "Pray explain why it was impossible to secure this 
 list?" he demanded. 
 
 "Because Robespierre carries it with him wherever 
 he goes. It is never out of his possession." 
 
 And Andre explained in detail all the circumstances 
 of his search through the tyrant's apartment, and of 
 the latter's surprising him in the act of going through 
 his wardrobe. 
 
 Louvet heard him through attentively, and then 
 asked : 
 
 "But why do you say that this document is never 
 out of Robespierre's possession?" 
 
 "It is the inference that any logical mind would nat- 
 urally draw from the circumstances of the case. Robes- 
 pierre put on a new suit, just before leaving his lodg- 
 [182]
 
 THE FATAL LIST. 183 
 
 ings, and, behold ! when he returned home, the list was 
 in the inside pocket of his new coat." 
 
 Louvet reflected for some time before again speak- 
 ing. When he did so he asked : 
 
 "Do you mean to say that, if Robespierre should 
 grace this dinner with his presence, the paper could be 
 found upon his person?" 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 "What makes you so certain of this?" 
 
 "Because I was present when he removed the new 
 clothes I spoke of, and put on the suit he usually wears 
 when wandering about the fields." 
 
 "What! does he change his dress so frequently?" 
 
 "Yes, and the fatal list with it. On the occasion I 
 mentioned, I saw him remove it from the coat pocket 
 of his new suit, to that of the one he put on before tak- 
 ing his usual stroll." 
 
 The Chief stamped his foot in vexation. 
 
 "Oh, if Robespierre would only attend, this din- 
 ner!" he exclaimed. "In that case, something might 
 be done yet." 
 
 While he was uttering these words, the sounds of 
 carriage- wheels attracted his attention; and, looking 
 toward the villa, he beheld a modest conveyance 
 rapidly approaching the port-cochere. In a few mo- 
 ments it drew up in front of the house, four men 
 alighted, and proceeded to mount the steps leading to 
 the entrance. 
 
 Louvet uttered an exclamation of mingled joy and 
 astonishment ; for one of the men was Robespierre. 
 
 The despot was accompanied by his brother, Augus-
 
 184 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 tin, and two of his chief lieutenants, Couthon and St. 
 Just. He was attired in his favorite sky-blue coat, 
 black breeches, and silk stockings, and was evidently 
 in a cheerful state of mind. 
 
 As he passed through the door with his companions, 
 a murmur could be heard in the house, expressive of 
 the satisfaction occasioned by his arrival. 
 
 "Mon Dieu!" exclaimed Louvet, suddenly changing 
 from jubilation to disgust. "Just hear those servile 
 fellows, Andre! But a moment ago, they were filled 
 with gloom and silence, because they trembled at the 
 absence of their master. Now that he has arrived, 
 however, they are exultant, for they believe that they 
 are, for the time at least, safe." He paused a moment 
 reflectively and added, "Are you sure he has the list 
 with him, Andre?" 
 
 "Unless he has destroyed it, yes !" 
 
 "Then we must devise some means of getting pos- 
 session of it," said Louvet, with resolution. "Indeed, 
 it is more important to my purposes, since Robespierre 
 has come to this dinner, than ever it was before. For 
 his honoring the entertainment by his attendance, will 
 lull the anxiety of his enemies, and they will need a 
 positive proof of his intention to destroy them to 
 arouse them from their torpor." 
 
 "I fear we have an impossible task before us," 
 groaned Andre. 
 
 "That remains to be seen," was Louvet's gloomy 
 response. 
 
 On reentering the house, they found the guests all 
 seated at the banquet table, which groaned beneath
 
 THE FATAL LIST. 1 8$ 
 
 the weight of an abundance of costly viands. Robes- 
 pierre occupied the seat of honor, at the right of his 
 host, while near him sat St. Just, Couthon, and his 
 brother, Augustin. Tallien, Freron, Barras and others, 
 who were his political opponents, occupied seats at the 
 opposite end of the board. 
 
 M. Barrere was an admirable host, and, under his 
 skillful guidance, the conversation was directed into 
 pleasant channels. Politics were avoided; the most 
 light and airy themes suggested; and, as the wine 
 passed around, wit and laughter sparkled and flowed. 
 
 Toward the end of the dinner, Robespierre's sallow 
 face became suddenly pale, and he sank back half 
 fainting in his chair. M. Barrere sprang to his assist- 
 ance on the instant. 
 
 "What ails you, friend Robespierre?" he inquired 
 anxiously, as he passed his arm around the tyrant's 
 shoulder to support him. 
 
 "Nothing, but a passing faintness," was the weak 
 reply. "The oppressive odor of your flowers sickens 
 me." 
 
 "Then allow me to conduct you out of doors, where 
 you can breathe more freely." 
 
 Augustin Robespierre seconded the suggestion of 
 the considerate host, and assisted him in conducting 
 the fainting man to a shaded corner of the veranda. 
 
 While the excitement caused by this incident was at 
 its height, two lackies might have been seen, whisper- 
 ing earnestly together in a pantry adjoining the ban- 
 quet hall.
 
 1 86 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "Do you know what has happened?" asked one, 
 anxiously. 
 
 "Do you refer to the fainting spell that has overcome 
 Robespierre ?" 
 
 "Yes," whispered the other, quickly ; adding, "It has 
 suggested to me an idea." 
 
 "An idea, Chief?" 
 
 "I have said it," returned the other, whom the reader 
 has probably recognized as Jean Louvet. "Let me ex- 
 plain it at once," he added, hurriedly ; "for, if feasible, 
 it must be executed immediately." 
 
 "Proceed, I am listening," answered Andre. 
 
 "It is this," went on his Chief: "Being overcome by 
 the heat, it would be but a simple act of courtesy on 
 my part to suggest removing the tyrant's coat, in order 
 to relieve him of its burden. Of course," he added, 
 with a meaning glance, "it is unnecessary for me to 
 explain what I will do afterwards." 
 
 This suggestion meeting with Andre's unqualified 
 approval, Louvet hastened to the veranda, bear- 
 ing a tray containing an iced sherbet in his hand, and, 
 approaching the group surrounding Robespierrre, re- 
 marked anxiously : 
 
 "I have had experience in such cases, good citizens, 
 and I trust you will not consider my advice insolent. 
 I have just made this cooling sherbet for Citizen 
 Robespierre, and I am sure it will greatly revive him." 
 
 The group immediately parted, to allow the con- 
 siderate lackey to approach die sick man, who was 
 lying back in a state of collapse, gasping for breath. 
 
 Without an instant's hesitation, the lackey placed the
 
 THE FATAL LIST. iS/ 
 
 invigorating drink to his lips, and persuaded him to 
 sip it. Then he burst out in the authoritative tones per- 
 mitted only to a nurse, or a physician : 
 
 "Why, monsieur, can it be possible that you have 
 not removed your coat ? Come, off with it at once, or 
 it will smother you !" 
 
 Slowly, suspiciously, the crafty tyrant rolled his 
 yellow eyes toward the lackey's countenance, and re- 
 marked in a voice, half-audible, yet resolute: 
 
 "My coat shall remain where it is !" 
 
 Having pronounced this ultimatum, Robespierre 
 closed his eyelids, and relapsed into his former silence. 
 
 Jean Louvet retreated from his side, with the con- 
 sciousness of having sustained a humiliating defeat; 
 yet he had made certain of one important thing beyond 
 the shadow of a doubt. The tyrant had convinced him, 
 by the tone and manner in which he had refused to 
 part with his coat, that the paper so necessary to the 
 success of his design, was actually in one of its pockets. 
 
 Although rebuffed in his first attempt, Louvet was 
 not the kind of man to acknowledge himself hopelessly 
 vanquished. On returning to the banquet hall, there- 
 fore, he devoted a considerable time to reflection. Re- 
 tiring into a pantry, where he pretended to be busy in 
 preparing various articles of table service for the 
 courses that were yet to come, he mused in this wise : 
 
 "Andre is undoubtedly right in his conjecture that 
 Robespierre invariably carries that list of his upon his 
 person ; otherwise, he certainly would have adopted my 
 suggestion, and removed his coat. He clings to it with 
 such tenacity, that it puts me to my wit's end to devise
 
 1 88 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 a means of getting hold of it, even for one brief second. 
 I would require no longer time to accomplish my pur- 
 pose." 
 
 Of a sudden he started so violently, that the dish he 
 then held in his hand fell crashing to the floor. 
 
 For a novel idea had occurred to him. 
 
 "I'll fetch this sly fox when he returns," he mut- 
 tered ; and walked quickly back into the banquet hall. 
 
 Noticing that the faces of all the guests were flushed 
 with wine and heat, he quietly approached Barrere and 
 suggested : 
 
 "You may not be aware of it, monsieur, but the heat 
 is becoming excessive. I would advise you, therefore, 
 to invite your guests to remove their coats." 
 
 Recognizing the voice as that of Jean Louvet, M. 
 Barrere understood this hint to be a command, and 
 acted upon it without the least delay. Rising from 
 his chair, he cried out cheerily : 
 
 "Come, citizens, off with your coats ! The heat is too 
 intense to be burdened with them longer." 
 
 And, setting the example, he removed his own gar- 
 ment, and handed it to Jean Louvet to hang in an ad- 
 joining closet. Immediately every man at the table did 
 likewise all but the fainting Robespierre, who was 
 still recovering from his illness in the open air. 
 
 Having succeeded so far in his design, Jean Louvet 
 went further, and, again drawing near his supposed 
 master, bent down and whispered respectfully in his 
 ear: 
 
 "If Robespierre refuses to follow your example, twit 
 him with being an aristocrat."
 
 THE FATAL LIST. 189 
 
 "Thank you for reminding me of the oversight, my 
 worthy fellow," cried M. Barrere, loud enough for all 
 his guests to hear ; then addressing the assemblage he 
 added, in cheerful tones: "That lackey is a perfect 
 treasure, citizens !" 
 
 When Robespierre returned to the banquet hall, a 
 short time afterward, he seemed highly amused to find 
 all the guests in their shirt sleeves. He made no 
 attempt, however, to remove his own coat, until his 
 host, in obedience to Jean Louvet's instructions, said to 
 him, laughingly: 
 
 "Come, Citizen Robespierre, you must not be the only 
 aristocrat in this democratic gathering. Off with your 
 coat, my good friend, and prove your republican 
 spirit !" 
 
 Robespierre hesitated ; but, realizing that a leader of 
 his boasted republicanism could hardly refuse such a 
 simple request with consistency, he threw off his sky- 
 blue garment, with a sickly smile of reluctance, and 
 handed it to Jean Louvet to take care of. He probably 
 reasoned that he could take this risk with safety; for 
 what man in France would venture to rifle the pockets 
 of the great Robespierre ? 
 
 The dinner over, M. Barrere conducted his guests 
 into the garden to enjoy the air, and then it was that 
 Louvet executed his master move. 
 
 While carrying Robespierre's coat to the closet, he 
 stealthily thrust his hand in its inside pocket, and found 
 a paper which proved to be the fatal list. His first 
 impulse was to steal it; but, on further reflection, he 
 doubted the policy of such an act, for these reasons :
 
 IOX> THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Presented by himself, it might pass as a forgery, 
 and be disregarded. In order that it should produce 
 the result he desired, some one, whose name was upon 
 it, must find it in the tyrant's coat. 
 
 So he looked the list over, and saw that the first name 
 written down was that of Representative Carnot, a man 
 of great courage and influence. 
 
 "The very man for my purpose," he reflected, as he 
 thrust the paper quickly back in its hiding place. "He 
 is fortunately present, and is approachable, even by a 
 lackey." 
 
 It was not long, however, before he discovered that 
 in this he was mistaken ; for, although Carnot was not 
 the kind of man to rebuff any person who approached 
 him, still it was a difficult matter to obtain from him a 
 secret hearing. 
 
 Indeed, M. Carnot was so witty and agreeable that 
 his society was in constant request, and, whenever he 
 attended a social function, of a public, or private char- 
 acter, he was invariably surrounded by a host of obse- 
 quious admirers. 
 
 This occasion being no exception to the rule, Louvet 
 soon realized that he must make a desperate attempt to 
 obtain an interview, or be defeated in the end, by seeing 
 Robespierre depart from the villa with the list on which 
 so much depended in his possession. So, regardless of 
 social observances, he walked boldly down into the 
 garden, and approached M. Carnot and his friends with 
 the utmost confidence. 
 
 "Citizen Carnot," he said, very gravely, "perhaps you 
 are not aware that I am a devoted friend of yours,"
 
 THE FATAL LIST. IQI 
 
 "Indeed?" answered the Representative, with an 
 amused glance at the company. 
 
 "Yes," said the supposed lackey, more gravely than 
 before, "I have come here to prove my friendship 
 beyond a doubt." 
 
 "In what way, may I ask ?" 
 
 "If you will grant me a brief interview, I will tell 
 you." 
 
 And Louvet directed such a compelling glance upon 
 M. Carnot, that the latter turned from his friends and 
 immediately accompanied him to a place where they 
 could converse unheard. 
 
 No sooner had they reached this covert, than the 
 lackey turned suddenly toward him and whispered in 
 urgent, passionate tones : 
 
 "M. Carnot, I have just discovered that your life 
 is in deadly peril, and have come here to warn you that, 
 unless you act promptly, it will be too late." 
 
 Carnot turned upon him a look of incredulity. 
 
 "My life threatened ? By whom ?" he asked. 
 
 "I have no time to expain," was Louvet's earnest 
 answer; "for, if I should be seen with you, it would 
 excite suspicion. I implore you, therefore, to listen to 
 what I say ! Go back to the house at once ; hasten to 
 the closet, where the guests' coats are hanging, and seek 
 out that of Robespierre. It hangs on the third hook 
 from the right wall, and you cannot fail to recognize 
 it from its sky-blue color. In the inside pocket you 
 will find a list of those whom Robespierre has doomed 
 to destruction. Your name heads it !"* 
 
 * At Barrere's bachelor dinner, writes Carlyle, " The day be-
 
 192 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Carnot waited to hear no more. 
 
 In fact he walked toward the villa so rapidly, that 
 Louvet feared he would attract observation. On en- 
 tering the banquet hall himself, shortly afterward, 
 he encountered the Representative coming from the 
 coat-closet with an expression of haggard terror upon 
 his white face. 
 
 "Was my warning not true ?" he whispered, quickly. 
 
 "Oh, Mon Dieu, yes !" groaned the terrified man, as 
 he rushed wildly forth to seek his friends. 
 
 coming so hot, it is said, the guests stript their coats, . . . 
 whereupon Carnot glided out ; groped in Robespierre's pocket ; 
 found a list of forty, his own name among them ; and tarried 
 not at the wine cup that day." It was the discovery of this list 
 which resulted in the mysterious, nocturnal councils, that pre- 
 cipitated the rapid onrush of events terminating in Robespierre's 
 downfall
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 EVENTS CROWD AND JOSTLE. 
 
 As Carnot was passing hastily down the steps of the 
 veranda, he met Robespierre and his party returning to 
 the villa. 
 
 "You seem to be in a vast hurry, citizen," remarked 
 Robespierre, suspiciously. 
 
 "Yes," answered Carnot, with an effort to appear 
 calm. "I have lost a valuable stud, and have been 
 searching the floor of the banquet hall in hopes of 
 finding it." 
 
 "Did you look in the coat-closet for it?" inquired 
 Robespierre, with a crafty twinkle in his yellow eyes. 
 
 Carnot started guiltily. 
 
 "Why, no why no," he stammered. "In fact it 
 never occurred to me to look for it there." 
 
 Robespierre fixed upon him a penetrating glance, 
 full of distrust and malevolence, and passed on into the 
 house. In the banquet hall, he encountered the lackey 
 to whom he had intrusted his coat. 
 
 "My friend," said he, "did you observe a man come 
 out of that closet a moment ago?" 
 
 "One of the guests was here just now," answered 
 Louvet, who was the lackey in question; "but he did 
 not go near the closet,"
 
 194 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "What was he doing?" 
 
 "He appeared to be looking for something," an- 
 swered Louvet, at random. 
 
 Robespierre heaved a sigh of relief and his face 
 brightened. 
 
 "Well, bring me my coat," he said. "It is time I 
 returned to Paris." 
 
 In the meantime, Carnot was hurrying, here and 
 there, through the garden, holding brief, excited con- 
 ferences with his friends. 
 
 To Tallien, he said: "Our heads are in danger. 
 Meet me at my house at midnight." 
 
 To Freron : "There will be a meeting at my house 
 at twelve to-night. If you do not wish to perish mis- 
 erably, attend it." 
 
 To Collot d'Herbois: "Come to my residence at 
 midnight. The tyrant is meditating mischief." 
 
 To Barras: "The Republic is threatened. If you 
 would save yourself, do not fail to visit me to-night at 
 twelve." 
 
 To Bourdon, Thuriot, Lecointre and others: In- 
 structions to the same effect. 
 
 There was no returning to the wine cup that day. 
 
 Robespierre and his partisans having first taken 
 leave, his opponents did not tarry long behind them. 
 Jean Louvet, whose keen eyes were open to every- 
 thing, noticed the disturbance and hurry of their de- 
 parture, and rubbed his hands together, delightedly. 
 
 Meeting Andre the Barber in the hallway, when all 
 was over, he whispered : 
 
 "A political storm is brewing. Now listen to my
 
 EVENTS CROWD AND JOSTLE. 195 
 
 directions: a secret meeting will undoubtedly be held 
 somewhere to-night. It will be a gathering of Robes- 
 pierre's enemies. You must find out when and where 
 it will take place, and bring me word at the Maison 
 Rousseau." 
 
 It was given out by the doorkeeper of M. Carnot's 
 residence that evening, that his master was ill, and 
 could receive no visitors. At an earlier hour than 
 usual, the house was closed for the night, and every 
 window darkened. 
 
 Nevertheless, shortly before midnight, a number of 
 mysterious visitors began to arrive, singly and on foot. 
 They entered the mansion through the basement door; 
 but not until after they had made a careful examina- 
 tion of the street to assure themselves that they were 
 unobserved. 
 
 Shortly after twelve o'clock, these persons were all 
 gathered in M. Carnot's library, on the second floor, 
 anxiously awaiting the news they had come to hear. 
 Their host was pacing the room in evident agitation, 
 and the wild glitter in his eyes filled them with alarm. 
 
 Suddenly he strode excitedly to the fireplace, and, 
 turning upon his heel, broke out in trembling accents: 
 
 "My friends, I made a startling discovery this day. 
 You remember that, at the conclusion of the dinner at 
 Barrere's, we all went forth into the garden for the 
 air. While there, I was approached by one of the serv- 
 ants, who told me that my life was threatened, and
 
 196 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 that, if I would save myself, I must obey his 
 directions." 
 
 M. Carnot paused a moment, to gain better control 
 of his trembling voice, and then proceeded : 
 
 "You may recollect that we had all stripped off our 
 coats, on account of the heat, and that they had been 
 hung in a closet adjoining the banquet hall. Well, 
 this honest servant directed me to go back into the 
 house instantly, enter this closet, and search in the 
 inside pocket of Robespierre's coat for a document that 
 would enlighten me as to his meaning. I did so, and 
 found the paper he referred to. On opening it, I saw 
 that it contained a list of names, in Robespierre's hand- 
 writing, with this heading inscribed above : 
 
 " 'Traitors whose Heads the Republic Requires/ 
 
 "You can imagine my consternation, friends, when 
 I saw that the first name on the list was my own. 
 There were about forty other names, as near as I could 
 judge; but I had no time to read them all. I managed, 
 however, to make out a few of them, and then, fearing 
 discovery, I thrust the paper back into Robespierre's 
 pocket, and hurried forth into the garden." 
 
 The fright and amazement produced by this revela- 
 tion were indescribable. The faces of all became 
 ghastly, and a tremor passed through every frame. 
 Finally Tallien ventured to inquire, in tones of dread : 
 
 "Was my name on the list, Carnot ?" 
 
 "It was." 
 
 "And mine?" asked Freron. 
 
 Carnot bowed his head gravely in assent. 
 
 At this, there arose a chorus of terrified inquiries
 
 EVENTS CROWD AND JOSTLE. 197 
 
 from the others, to learn if their names also were 
 among those of the doomed. Carnot motioned for 
 silence, and said seriously: 
 
 "The only other names I saw on the list were those 
 of Barras, Bourdon and Collot d'Herbois. They were 
 directly underneath my own, and, therefore, were com- 
 prehended in the hasty glance I threw upon the paper. 
 You should remember, friends, that I was running a 
 great risk, and that it was impossible for me to examine 
 closer. I can assure you, however, that there were 
 over forty names in all, and that no man among us can 
 consider himself safe." 
 
 This announcement was followed by a long period of 
 silence, broken at intervals by suppressed ejaculations, 
 sighs and groans of fear. 
 
 Tallien was the first to shake off this dreadful 
 apathy. 
 
 "Bestir yourselves, my friends!" he cried. "This 
 is no time to give way to fright. Something must be 
 done, and that without delay." 
 
 "Alas!" returned Bourdon, dejectedly. "What can 
 be done against the all-powerful Robespierre ?" 
 
 "Nothing, without firmness and daring," replied a 
 voice from the library door. 
 
 Every head was turned quickly toward the speaker; 
 every face became rigid with fright; while the eyes 
 of all grew big with amazement, on beholding the 
 figure of a strange young man, standing erect and mo- 
 tionless upon the threshold.
 
 198 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Jean Louvet had returned from the dinner at Clichy, 
 and was sitting with Dr. Narbonne in the latter's study 
 in the Maison Rousseau, when a sharp knock sounded 
 on the door. 
 
 "That must be Andre returned from his errand," 
 he muttered, as he arose to admit the late visitor. 
 
 In this surmise, however, he was mistaken, for 
 Francois the Idler entered. 
 
 "Ah, so it is you, Fran9ois ?" said Louvet, motioning 
 the young man to a seat. 
 
 "Yes, Chief," was the response. "I have come here 
 to bring you bad news." 
 
 "Well, what is it?" 
 
 "In the first place," returned Francois, gloomily, 
 "it grieves me to inform you that a friend of yours is 
 in the gravest peril. As I was passing by the Con- 
 ciergerie Prison, this evening, I saw three tumbrils 
 drive up to the door, loaded with prisoners whom the 
 Revolutionary Tribunal had condemned to the guil- 
 lotine to-morrow." 
 
 "Presently the prisoners came forth from the carts, 
 and I recognized among them M. Vauban." 
 
 Louvet uttered an exclamation of despair. 
 
 "Is it possible that Robespierre's vengeance is so 
 swift?" he cried. 
 
 "Secondly," went on Francois, without noticing the 
 interruption, "I happened to stroll into the Jacobin 
 Club on my way hither, and, while loitering there, in 
 gossip with several of the members, Robespierre rushed 
 suddenly into the hall. Pale and quivering with excite-
 
 EVENTS CROWD AND JOSTLE. 199 
 
 ment, he mounted into the tribune, and delivered a 
 fiery speech to his admiring associates. 
 
 "He informed them that the time had arrived to 
 clear the National Convention of all traitors, and said, 
 further, that it was his intention to reappear among the 
 Representatives on the eighth of Thermidor, to de- 
 nounce these traitors and demand their accusation." 
 
 "Merciful God!" exclaimed Louvet. "Why the 
 eighth of Thermidor is to-morrow." 
 
 While these words were still quivering upon his 
 lips, another knock resounded on the door. 
 
 "Can this mean more bad news?" he said, hurrying 
 forward to open it. 
 
 Simon the Jailer entered. 
 
 It was unnecessary for him to explain that he was 
 the bearer of evil tidings; for every lineament of his 
 honest face expressed it. Seeing this at a glance, Jean 
 Louvet cried out, anxiously : 
 
 "Don't keep me in suspense; but deliver your mes- 
 sage at once." 
 
 Simon advanced a few steps, and then stopped, mo- 
 tionless and mute ; yet there was something in the look 
 he gave his Chief which caused the latter to tremble. 
 
 "Why are you silent?" he asked, in agonized tones. 
 "For mercy's sake, speak, man ! Speak !" 
 
 Thus urgently appealed to, Simon shook his head 
 sorrowfully, and replied, in a voice barely above a 
 whisper : 
 
 "Oh, my dear Chief! It is indeed a woeful tale I 
 bring you," then, pausing for a moment as if to 
 collect his courage
 
 2OO THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "Madamoiselle Vauban has been arrested!" he ex- 
 claimed, despairingly. 
 
 The groan that escaped Jean Louvet was terrible to 
 hear. For a moment he staggered, and seemed about 
 to faint. Then, by a supreme effort of the will, he 
 summoned all his faculties to his aid, and asked, with 
 forced composure: 
 
 "Do you know the prison in which she is confined ?" 
 
 "She is in the Luxembourg," answered Simon, "and 
 under my charge, thank God !" 
 
 "Then we need not despair for her yet," said Louvet, 
 grimly. 
 
 With the imperious look of a man, who is deter- 
 mined to conquer all obstacles, he walked firmly to his 
 chair, and sat down. Then, burying his face in his 
 hands, he began to reflect deeply; observing which, 
 Simon and Frangois withdrew into an adjoining apart- 
 ment, while Dr. Narbonne took a book from the table, 
 sat down in an armchair, and pretended to be pro- 
 foundly interested in its contents. 
 
 Thus an hour passed by. 
 
 At its expiration, a third knock broke the silence. 
 
 "That must be Andre at last," said Louvet, wearily. 
 
 This proved to be true. 
 
 "Well ?" he said, half-hopelessly, as Andre drew near 
 to report to him; for he was fully prepared to hear 
 that his agent had failed in his mission. 
 
 "I have hastened here to inform you, Chief, that I 
 have followed your directions," answered Andre, "and 
 that I have succeeded in discovering the meeting place 
 of Robespierre's enemies."
 
 EVENTS CROWD AND JOSTLE. 2OI 
 
 This encouraging announcement aroused Louvet to 
 instant action. 
 
 "At what hour, and where do they meet?" he asked, 
 eagerly. 
 
 "The time is twelve to-night ; the place, Representa- 
 tive Carnot's residence." 
 
 Louvet looked at his watch. 
 
 "It is now a little after eleven," he said. "So I must 
 make haste, if I would arrive there in time." 
 
 While speaking, he hurried into the room where 
 Simon and Frangois were conversing, and ordered the 
 latter to change garments with him at once. A few 
 skillful applications of paint to his countenance com- 
 pleted his transformation; and, thus disguised, he left 
 the Maison Rousseau, and walked rapidly towards the 
 place of secret meeting.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE GAME GROWS EXCITING. 
 
 BEFORE M. Carnot and his friends could recover 
 from their surprise at his sudden appearance, the 
 stranger, noticing the fright depicted on their faces, 
 advanced boldly into the room, and said, reassuringly : 
 
 "Do not be alarmed, for I am a friend. Indeed, I 
 have a right to participate in your deliberations, as my 
 peril is fully equal to your own." 
 
 "Don't you think, monsieur, it is rather presumptu- 
 ous for you to intrude where you are not wanted?" 
 asked Carnot, coldly. 
 
 The stranger turned to him with an amused smile. 
 
 "It certainly would be, Citizen Carnot," he replied, 
 with seeming effrontery, "were it really true that my 
 presence here is an intrusion. On the contrary, I would 
 certainly have been requested to attend this meeting, 
 had you known that I was in Paris, and where to find 
 me." 
 
 He waited a moment to enjoy the surprise this re- 
 mark produced in his hearers, and then exclaimed 
 suddenly : 
 
 "Look this way, my friends, and behold who I am !" 
 
 And, drawing a handkerchief from his pocket, he 
 rubbed the paint from his face, and revealed the hand- 
 [202]
 
 THE GAME GROWS EXCITING. 203 
 
 some and resolute countenance of their fellow Repre- 
 sentative, Jean Louvet. 
 
 Exclamations of astonishment were heard on all 
 sides. M. Carnot sprang up and accorded him a hearty 
 welcome; while the others, following his example, 
 pressed forward to embrace him, each in turn. 
 
 "Why, I thought you had fled from Paris!" ex- 
 claimed Tallien. 
 
 "And I, that you had committed suicide," said 
 Freron. 
 
 "For my part," put in Barras, "I never believed that 
 you would either run away, or kill yourself ; for you are 
 much too brave to resort to either measure." 
 
 After thanking them for their expressions of inter- 
 est, Louvet asked suddenly: 
 
 "Have you decided upon anything?" 
 
 "We were discussing a certain list that I found in 
 Robespierre's pocket," explained Carnot, inviting him 
 to a seat beside him on a sofa. "It contains the names 
 of Representatives whom the tyrant has selected for the 
 guillotine. But, as you must be ignorant of its exist- 
 ence, I will relate my adventure for your benefit." 
 
 "That will be unnecessary, for I know all about the 
 list." 
 
 "But that seems scarcely credible." 
 
 "Nevertheless, I was the man who told you wher^i 
 to find it," answered Jean. "To be explicit, I was at 
 Barrere's dinner in the character of a lackey. So you 
 see I know as much as any citizen here. Therefore, I 
 ask again what have you decided to do ?"
 
 2O4 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 The Representatives looked at one another per- 
 plexedly, and remained silent. 
 
 "I see how matters stand," said Louvet, as he drew 
 forth his watch. "You have come to no decision at 
 all, notwithstanding that you have been deliberating 
 for an hour. It is now past one o'clock, and the time 
 at your disposal is very limited." 
 
 Then, suddenly changing his tone, he continued, 
 with a countenance illumined with ardor : 
 
 "My friends, there is but one course to pursue. You 
 must act boldly and at once. The least delay will prove 
 fatal ; for Robespierre is about to destroy you. If you 
 had been at the Jacobin Club, this evening, you would 
 have known how imminent is your peril. Shall I tell 
 you what happened in that den of assassins? Robes- 
 pierre entered the hall, and strode boldly to the tribune. 
 He mounted it with a smile on his crafty face, and ad- 
 dressed his associates with his usual confidence. He 
 informed them that it was his intention to reappear in 
 the Convention to-morrow morning; denounce his 
 enemies as traitors to the Republic, and demand their 
 accusation and execution. Knowing this, would not 
 further hesitation on our part be a crime?" 
 
 He paused a moment to cast a flashing glance over 
 the eager faces around him, and then resumed, in tones 
 of passionate eloquence: 
 
 "Shall we allow this vile tyrant to destroy us? 
 Shall we permit him to become the absolute dictator of 
 the Republic? Or shall we rise up, and assert our 
 manhood, by denouncing him to the entire nation, and 
 accusing him publicly of his crimes? You may say
 
 THE GAME GROWS EXCITING. 2O$ 
 
 that this would be a desperate move; that his power is 
 so great that it would be impossible to break it; that 
 all those who participated in such a rash attempt would 
 be destroyed. 
 
 "This may be true ; but it is the only course left open 
 to us. If we remain quiet, we are lost. If we rise up 
 against our oppressor, we may save ourselves. It is 
 the only hope we have, and it would be folly to disre- 
 gard it. 
 
 "It is now past one o'clock. The Convention meets 
 at ten. We have, therefore, nearly nine hours in which 
 to act . Come, which shall it be hesitation, cowardice 
 and certain death? or prompt decision, courage and a 
 possible hope of salvation?" 
 
 He had not long to wait for an answer ; for his words 
 had produced a marvelous effect upon his listeners. 
 With one accord they crowded round him, crying: 
 
 "We will act! We will combine against our op- 
 pressor! There shall be no vacillation; but we will 
 rise up boldly and defy Robespierre. Will you, Jean 
 Louvet, who was the first to denounce him, be our 
 leader, and direct us how to act?" 
 
 A smile of satisfaction illumined Jean Louvet's face 
 at these expressions of confidence; and, without a 
 moment's hesitation, he drew a chair to the library 
 table, and assumed immediate direction of affairs. 
 
 "How many names were on the list ?" he asked, with 
 a glance at M. Carnot. 
 
 "About forty, I should judge." 
 
 "And how many of them are known?" inquired 
 Louvet.
 
 206 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "I had only time to read my own name; Tallien's, 
 Freron's, Bourdon's and those of Barras and Collet 
 d'Herbois." 
 
 "Excellent!" exclaimed Louvet, with a smile indic- 
 ative of pleasure. "That leaves about thirty-four 
 doubtful names a sufficient number to strike terror 
 into the hearts of at least a hundred Representatives, 
 and bring them over to our side." 
 
 He spread a sheet of paper before him on the table, 
 picked up a pen, and continued : 
 
 "Now let us make a list of names of Representatives 
 who are likely to support us. How many members can 
 you count upon, Citizen Carnot?" 
 
 "Besides those present, not more than six." 
 
 "Their names, please?" 
 
 Carnot gave them. Jean now turned to Tallien. 
 
 "And how many supporters have you, my friend?" 
 
 "I think I can rely upon ten, or twelve." 
 
 And Tallien repeated their names slowly, as Louvet 
 wrote them down upon the paper. 
 
 He asked the same questions of all the others present, 
 and then, announcing that there were over one hundred 
 names in all, issued the following command : 
 
 "I shall rely upon you, citizens, to notify your sup- 
 porters of their peril before daylight. They must each 
 and every one be informed of Robespierre's list of the 
 doomed, and of the probability that their names are 
 included in the number. The uncertainty will be more 
 effectual in arousing them to action, than even the most 
 positive knowledge. They must all be made to promise 
 that they will support you in the Convention tomorrow
 
 THE GAME GROWS EXCITING. 2O/ 
 
 in denouncing, and accusing Robespierre, as a despot. 
 Thus a new and formidable party will spring up, like a 
 mushroom, over night, and the tyrant will be thunder- 
 struck, and, perhaps, overthrown." 
 
 Expressions of approbation were heard on all sides, 
 and Tallien suggested : 
 
 "As our new political party has sprung into being 
 in the month of Thermidor, let us christen ourselves 
 and followers the 'Thermidorians.' " 
 
 This proposition meeting "with the approval of all, 
 the new party was from that time so entitled. 
 
 "And now, my friends," said Louvet, arising from 
 the table, "permit me to resign the direction of your 
 affairs into other hands. I have shown you how to 
 act, and can do nothing further to assist you, excepting 
 to advise you to disperse immediately, and communi- 
 cate with your friends. Remember that, in this affair, 
 promptness is of the utmost importance. If you follow 
 out my directions, and act with daring in the Conven- 
 tion to-morrow, you may possibly save your heads; 
 otherwise you will lose them to a certainty. Farewell, 
 my friends ! I must be going ; for I have other work 
 to do." 
 
 "Do you mean to desert us, Louvet?" asked Bour- 
 don, in alarm. 
 
 "On the contrary, I intend to place myself com- 
 pletely at your mercy." 
 
 "What do you mean ?" asked Carnot. 
 
 Jean Louvet drew himself up to his full height, and 
 cast a majestic look upon his questioner. 
 
 "That I have such confidence in the fidelity and 
 
 /'i
 
 208 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 courage of my friends," he answered, loftily, "that I 
 am going to the Conciergerie to deliver myself up as 
 a political outlaw, and calmly await rescue at your 
 hands." 
 
 With these words, he waved a final farewell to the 
 company, and, heedless of their protestations, withdrew 
 from the meeting.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 AMONG THE CONDEMNED. 
 
 ON leaving Carnot's residence, Jean Lou vet hurried 
 back to the Maison Rousseau; for he knew that time 
 was pressing. It was close to three in the morning, 
 when he re-entered the Doctor's study. 
 
 The worthy man was sleeping in his armchair, but, 
 aroused by the entrance of his Chief, opened his eyes, 
 sleepily and inquired: 
 
 "Well, what news?" 
 
 "I have accomplished all that lay in my power," re- 
 sponded Louvet, wearily, "I have set the ball rolling, 
 and it remains with Robespierre's enemies in the Con- 
 vention to do the rest." 
 
 "Do you believe our exiled party will profit by the 
 upheaval ?" 
 
 "Eventually, yes," answered Louvet ; adding, "When 
 powerful factions disagree, it inevitably results in the 
 advancement of some one of them. But where are 
 Andre, Simon, and Frangois? I have certain direc- 
 tions to give them ere I depart." 
 
 "Surely you do not intend leaving us again?" said 
 Dr. Narbonne. 
 
 "Yes, my beloved friend," answered Louvet, with a 
 
 [209]
 
 2IO THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 strange softness in his voice. "I am going away pres- 
 ently, and, perhaps, it may be forever." 
 
 "Forever?" cried the Doctor in tones of alarm. 
 "What do you mean ? Where are you going?" 
 
 "To the Conciergerie to surrender myself to the 
 jailer." 
 
 "By all that is sacred !" exclaimed Dr. Narbonne, 
 turning suddenly pale. "What prompts you to such 
 an act of madness ?" 
 
 "A firm resolution to either save my friend Vauban, 
 or perish with him." 
 
 "Oh, my beloved master!" 
 
 The Doctor could say no more, for his voice was 
 choked with sobs. Louvet embraced him tenderly, and 
 whispered words of encouragement in his ear. Then, 
 rising to his feet, he again inquired for his agents. 
 
 "They are resting in the adjoining chamber," said 
 the Doctor; adding, "Shall I call them?" 
 
 "No," answered Louvet. "I can do that myself." 
 
 And, going over to the door communicating with 
 the room referred to, he opened it softly and entered. 
 
 Francois, Simon and Andre were reclining in three 
 armchairs, sleeping in their clothes. It was evident 
 that they were greatly fatigued with the onerous work 
 they had recently performed, for their slumber was 
 heavy. 
 
 "Poor comrades !" muttered Louvet, regarding them 
 with deep affection, "It pains me to awaken you; but 
 it cannot be avoided. God alone knows when you can 
 sleep again !" 
 
 Advancing quickly across the room, he aroused them
 
 AMONG THE CONDEMNED. 211 
 
 each in turn ; and, when they were sufficiently awake to 
 comprehend his words, informed them of his intentions. 
 All three protested vigorously against his going to the 
 Conciergerie ; but they spent their breath in vain; for 
 he gave them plainly to understand that his determina- 
 tion was irrevocable, and that no argument could per- 
 suade him to change it. 
 
 "And now that you know my mind on that point," 
 he added, "please listen to my final instructions : You, 
 Frangois, have this mission to perform : As soon as 
 Paris is awake, go to Jacques the Blacksmith, and en- 
 deavor to gain his support to our cause. Argue with 
 him in this fashion : No true friend of the Republic can 
 deny that the National Convention represents the 
 people ; for its members were all elected by the people's 
 votes. He will, undoubtedly, agree to this. Then in- 
 form him that his beloved Robespierre intends to 
 paralyze the Convention, by sending a large number 
 of its members to the guillotine. If he denies this, ask 
 him to visit the Convention Hall to-day, and listen to 
 Robespierre's speech. 
 
 "Insist that Robespierre is ambitious, and is plan- 
 ning to override the people through their Represen- 
 tatives in the Convention, and establish himself as the 
 supreme dictator of France. He believes you to be a 
 true patriot, and will, undoubtedly, be influenced by 
 what you say. As he is a power in the Faubourg St. 
 Antoine, he will prove a friend worth having." 
 
 He next turned to Simon the Jailer. 
 
 "My directions to you, comrade, will be very brief," 
 he said, "I merely require you to inform Made-
 
 212 THE MAN WHO DARFD. 
 
 moiselle Vauban that I have done my best to save her 
 father. Tell her that I am still working in his behalf, 
 and that I know of her incarceration in the Luxem- 
 bourg. Assure her that I am not without hope of 
 success; but, if failure should be the result of my 
 plans, I will perish with those whom I have struggled 
 to rescue." 
 
 To Andre the Barber he gave these directions : 
 
 "Your acquaintance with Robespierre and his friends 
 will doubtless enable you to gain much valuable in- 
 formation concerning their intentions. If you learn 
 anything of importance, carry the news immediately 
 to M. Tallien, for he is the shrewdest and most dar- 
 ing of all Robespierre's enemies. And now," he added, 
 with an expression of infinite relief, "disguise is no 
 longer necessary. I will change suits with you, Fran- 
 c,ois, and, in my own character, as a Representative of 
 the people, go forth to challenge fate." 
 
 It required but a few minutes to effect the transfer 
 of raiment that converted this man of mystery into 
 Representative Jean Louvet. At the conclusion of the 
 transformation, he embraced his comrades, and left 
 the Maison Rousseau, perhaps, forever. 
 
 On reaching the Conciergerie, between the hours of 
 six and seven, he requested an interview with the chief 
 jailer, and was shown into a small office to await the 
 great man's convenience. 
 
 In order that the time might pass less drearily, he 
 amused himself by studying the little room. But one 
 window lighted it, a long bench extended along the 
 wall behind him, and a high desk against" the wall
 
 AMONG THE CONDEiMNED. 213 
 
 opposite. Two sickly-looking clerks, mounted upon 
 tall stools, were at work behind the desk, pausing 
 at intervals to cast an inquiring look in his direction. 
 
 At the expiration of half an hour, the chief keeper 
 of the prison swaggered into the office; and, casting 
 a contemptuous look upon his caller, asked gruffly: 
 
 "Well, what is your business?" 
 
 Louvet answered mildly : 
 
 "I am Representative Jean Louvet, who was accused 
 some days ago by the Convention. I have come to 
 surrender myself as a prisoner." 
 
 "Have you been tried and condemned?" 
 
 "Not as yet," was the reply. 
 
 "Then why do you come here?" snarled the jailer. 
 "Don't you know that this prison is only intended for 
 those who have been condemned to the guillotine?" 
 
 "Yes," was the complacent answer ; "but as the 
 Convention offered a price for my capture, I con- 
 sidered it equivalent to condemnation." 
 
 A gleam of avarice shot from the jailer's eyes. 
 
 "So you came here that I might gain the reward?" 
 he asked. 
 
 Louvet read the man's thoughts on the instant. 
 
 "When a fugitive voluntarily surrenders himself," 
 he answered, quietly, "the question of a reward is 
 eliminated. However," he added, indifferently, "if you 
 are really anxious for the money, I am perfectly will- 
 ing to help you obtain it." 
 
 "Tell me how?" cried the jailer, eagerly. 
 
 "Why, the affair is simple enough," remarked Lou- 
 vet. "By admitting me to your prison, you can log- 
 ically claim to have captured me in the streets, bring-
 
 214 THE MAN WHO 
 
 ing me hither for safe keeping. Afterward, I have 
 only to corroborate your statement, and you re- 
 ceive the Convention's reward." 
 
 "And what does that amount to?" 
 
 "Some five thousand francs, I believe." 
 
 During this colloquy, the two sickly clerks paused 
 in their work to listen. At its conclusion, the jailer 
 turned upon them gruffly, and sneered : 
 
 "Oh, never fear, mes enfants! you'll get your hush 
 money." 
 
 Then, beckoning Louvet to follow, he led the way 
 into the prison. 
 
 That part of the Conciergerie into which Louvet 
 was thrust consisted of a long hall, or corridor, flanked 
 on both sides by rows of cells. At the time of his 
 arrival, the prisoners had just finished breakfast, and 
 were enjoying the hour of exercise allowed them by 
 the regulations. 
 
 When he had seen the cell he was to occupy, he 
 was permitted to mingle with the unhappy beings, 
 until the time for locking them in their narrow cham- 
 bers should arrive. 
 
 He computed that there were about seventy-five 
 persons in the corridor, of all ages and conditions of 
 life. Some were sitting on board benches; some 
 were pacing to and fro, their heads bowed and their 
 eyes fixed despairingly upon the ground ; others stood 
 in groups, conversing gravely in awed undertones; 
 while a few, too weak to control the agony of their 
 souls, were weeping and wailing lamentably. 
 
 Searching eagerly among these poor doomed 
 creatures, Jean Louvet finally discovered his friend,
 
 AMONG THE CONDEMNED. 
 
 Vauban, sitting on a bench with a little girl upon his 
 knee. He was speaking to her in a gentle tone of 
 voice, and with a radiant smile upon his face, that 
 rendered its expression almost angelic. 
 
 On seeing Louvet approaching, a cloud passed over 
 his brow, and his voice trembled, as he greeted him. 
 
 "So you also have been condemned, Citizen Lou- 
 vet ? Believe me, I am deeply grieved to see you here." 
 
 Louvet sat down by his side, and began speaking in 
 rapid undertones. 
 
 "Yes, I am here ; but I am not condemned as yet. I 
 have come, M. Vauban, to save you, if I can, or else 
 to perish with you. Ask no questions; but listen at- 
 tentively to what I say. A tempest will break out in 
 the Convention this morning, which may result in the 
 overthrow of Robespierre. In that case we may be 
 saved yet, if we can gain but a day's time. Are you 
 to be sent to the guillotine to-day?" 
 
 M. Vauban bowed his head in assent. 
 
 "At what hour?" 
 
 "The tumbrils leave here at two this afternoon." 
 
 A despairing groan issued from Louvet's lips. 
 
 "Alas!" he cried wildly, "what can I do to save 
 you?" 
 
 "Do not concern yourself on my account, my good 
 friend," returned Vauban, cheerfully, "I assure you, 
 I am perfectly resigned to my fate." 
 
 "Ah, but Mademoiselle Louise, your daughter," said 
 Jean in tones of anguish ; "she is not resigned." 
 
 M. Vauban's lips trembled, and great tears coursed 
 down his cheeks.
 
 2l6 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "Oh, why do you remind me of her ?" he moaned. 
 
 "Because I wish to inspire you with resolution to 
 save yourself for her sake," replied Louvet. 
 
 "Is such a thing possible?" 
 
 "If I can delay your departure for the guillotine 
 until tomorrow Yes !" was the resolute answer. 
 
 "But how about your own case?" asked M. Vauban. 
 
 "I shall not be sent to the guillotine today, as I 
 have not yet been sentenced." 
 
 "I understand," said Vauban, reflectively. "You 
 mean that you have not yet appeared before the Rev- 
 olutionary Tribunal to be submitted to the parody of 
 a trial, as I was yesterday. Why, the wretches con- 
 demned me without regard to evidence. It was mon- 
 strous ! Fiendish !" 
 
 At that instant two jailers entered the corridor to 
 announce that the hour for exercise had expired. The 
 prisoners returned to their cells, and the two friends 
 were compelled to part. As Vauban was embracing 
 Jean Louvet, perhaps, for the last time, he whispered 
 anxiously : 
 
 "Oh, if we could contrive to save this child, my 
 friend !" 
 
 They were all three standing at the time, and the 
 little girl was clinging to M. Vauban's coat-tails, as if 
 appealing to him for protection. 
 
 "Can you manage to conceal her in your cell ?" Jean 
 whispered, eagerly. 
 
 "Perhaps." 
 
 "Then I'll do my best to save you both." 
 
 And, with this parting promise, they separated.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 CHALK MARKS THAT DISAPPEARED. 
 
 ON entering the dungeon allotted to him, Jean was 
 surprised that his jailer failed to fasten its door. It is 
 true he closed it after him, but he did not pause to 
 turn the key in the lock. 
 
 Had he neglected to lock the doors of the other 
 cells also? If so, it might be possible to visit the one 
 occupied by Vauban, and continue their conversation. 
 
 While endeavoring to account for the jailer's neg- 
 ligence, Jean remembered that the fellow was greatly 
 under the influence of liquor, when he came into the 
 corridor, and in no condition to perform his duties 
 properly. This was not to be wondered at, consider- 
 ing that he was brought into daily contact with those 
 who were on their way to death, but was rather an 
 evidence that he was not altogether without some 
 human sympathy. 
 
 Approaching his cell door, Jean opened it cau- 
 tiously a few inches, and peered through the crack. 
 He observed two jailers, conversing together, at one 
 end of the corridor ; but they were too far distant for 
 him to hear what they said. 
 
 All the doors on the opposite side were tightly 
 closed, and, as they were in charge of the drunken 
 
 [217]
 
 2l8 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 jailer's comrade, were probably locked also. The 
 doors on his side he was unable to see. He knew that 
 M. Vauban occupied the third cell to the right, and 
 reasoned that it would not be very difficult to reach 
 it, if he should select a time when the jailers were not 
 looking his way. So he kept his eye constantly glued 
 to the crack to watch for such an opportunity. 
 
 While he was thus occupied, they left their position ; 
 and, still continuing their conversation, slowly ap- 
 proached him. As they drew near, he observed that 
 both were intoxicated. Nearer and nearer they came, 
 until they were almost opposite his cell, when they 
 paused in their walk to argue, after the fashion of 
 drunkards. 
 
 "Be as stubborn as you like," said the jailer, who 
 had charge of the cells opposite; "but I insist that 
 every mother's son of them will be sent to the guillo- 
 tine to-day." 
 
 To this Louvet's jailer replied, in a voice thick from 
 drink : 
 
 "It's not me that's stubborn, my man, but you. 
 D'ye mean to tell me that there's tumbrils enough to 
 cart off so many?" 
 
 "They'll cart off what they can, and come back for 
 the rest," was the obstinate reply. 
 
 "Something never heard of since I've been in charge 
 here. So you may believe me, when I tell you that 
 some heads will be spared till to-morrow." 
 
 "But who's to decide which shall stay behind?" 
 
 "How stupid you are!" exclaimed Louvet's jailer,
 
 CHALK MARKS THAT DISAPPEARED. 219 
 
 in tones of contempt. "Why, how do they decide in 
 the other prisons?" 
 
 "1 confess I don't know. Can you tell me ?" 
 
 "To be sure I can, you blockhead. The chief jailer 
 decides, who shall go, and who shall remain, and 
 makes out a list of the former. Then he takes a 
 peep at the jail register; finds out the numbers of 
 the cells they occupy; writes them down opposite 
 their names ; and hands the list to an understrapper 
 say you, or me, for instance, With this list in his 
 hand, the understrapper goes from door to door, with 
 a piece of chalk. 
 
 "Say the first number on his list is five, for instance. 
 He knows that the name following it is that of a pris- 
 oner condemned to die. So he marks a cross on the 
 door with his chalk, and passes on to the next number 
 on the list. He makes a cross on this door also, and 
 then passes on to the next, and next, until he has 
 chalked every cell whose number is on the list." 
 
 "And what happens after?" 
 
 "Why, he goes about his business, and meddles no 
 more in the matter. But, along in the afternoon, the 
 tumbrils come rumbling up, and then a second jailer 
 comes round, and examines each door for the chalk 
 mark. Where he finds one, the inmate of that cell 
 must go off with him ; the others he leaves alone." 
 
 While listening to this dialogue, Jean Louvet's 
 heart beat high with hope ; for, if the jailer spoke the 
 truth, there was a chance yet for M. Vauban. It was 
 possible that he might be among those reserved for 
 execution on the morrow, and thus an entire day
 
 22O THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 would be gained. In the meantime, the coup 'd'etat 
 he had planned might possibly succeed, and Robes- 
 pierre's enemies be released from the prisons. 
 
 Indeed, if such a fortunate event should happen, he 
 knew that he himself would be among the first 
 rescued; for he had informed the Thermidorians 
 whither he was going. 
 
 But would the coup d'etat succeed? Would Robes- 
 pierre's downfall be accomplished? Or, even if these 
 things came to pass, would M. Vauban be spared 
 until the morrow? 
 
 These questions filled him with the gravest anxiety. 
 
 Creeping back into his cell, he sat down on the 
 edge of his cot; and, burying his face in his hands, 
 gave way to gloomy forebodings. 
 
 He had entered on this game of politics for the sake 
 of the woman he loved. lie had played daringly, 
 desperately, against the most tremendous odds. Yet, 
 notwithstanding the political storm he had succeeded 
 in raising against Robespierre, the possibility of his 
 winning appeared inconceivable. 
 
 As the game stood at present, the chances were de- 
 cidedly against him. To win, he must first of all, 
 save M. Vauban ; yet Vauban was on the road to 
 death. Again, he must destroy the tyrant, Robes- 
 pierre; yet he doubted the ability of the Convention 
 to do so. 
 
 Lastly and this thought was the most terrible 
 the lovely woman, for whose sake he was staking his 
 all, was at that moment in prison, with the apparition 
 of the guillotine overshadowing her.
 
 ,. ..'-' CHALK MARKS THAT DISAPPEARED. 221 
 
 Ever since he had engaged in this struggle, he had 
 become hourly more deeply in love with her. If he 
 had before worshipped her at a distance, he now adored 
 her with all the passion of his nature. To return to her 
 defeated was impossible; so he had resolved to link 
 his fate irrevocably with hers. 
 
 If he could save his beloved and her father, he would 
 live; otherwise he would perish with them. So, after 
 making his last desperate effort for their salvation, he 
 had voluntarily united himself with their destiny. 
 
 Suddenly the door of his cell was flung open, and 
 his jailer commanded him to come forth. He obeyed 
 mechanically. 
 
 "Is it not rather early?" he asked, as he stepped 
 out into the corridor. 
 
 "Early for what ?" growled the jailer, stupefied with 
 drink. 
 
 "For the prisoners to be taken to the guillotine." 
 
 "Humph ! I didn't come here for that purpose, 
 but to put chalk marks on the doors of the con- 
 demned. You see there ain't enough tumbrils to carry 
 them all, so some must wait over until to-morrow." 
 
 "But why did you call me forth ?" 
 
 "To go before the Revolutionary Tribunal. They 
 have been told about your capture, and intend to dis- 
 pose of your case at once." 
 
 And the drunken jailer began to consult a paper he 
 held in his hand. 
 
 "By the devil's horns and tail !" he mumbled, as his 
 head swayed forward. "I can't make out a single
 
 222 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 figure on this cursed list. There's a mist before my 
 eyes, and they all run, helter-skelter, together." 
 
 "What is the nature of the list?" asked Jean, with 
 assumed indifference. 
 
 "It's the names of the poor devils that must go to 
 St. Guillotine this afternoon." 
 
 "Are you putting chalk marks on the doors of their 
 cells?" 
 
 "Yes, I mark 'em with a cross," mumbled the jailer. 
 
 While this short colloquy was taking place, Louvet 
 looked over the jailer's shoulder upon the slip of 
 paper that trembled in his grasp. All at once his face 
 became deathly pale, and a convulsive gasp escaped 
 him. The besotted jailer raised his glassy eyes to his 
 face, and inquired : 
 
 "Why, what ails you, man?" 
 
 "Oh, nothing serious," replied Louvet, recovering 
 himself with an effort. "A sudden faintness passed 
 over me, but I feel better now." 
 
 "Humph!" and the jailer renewed his examination 
 of the paper. 
 
 But what had wrung that agonized gasp from his 
 prisoner? 
 
 It was this: While examining the list, over the 
 jailer's shoulder, his eyes had suddenly detected the 
 name of M. Vauban, and the number of the cell he 
 occupied. The horror, that this discovery aroused in 
 him, magnified his vision, so that his friend's name 
 seemed to cover the entire sheet of paper ;
 
 CHALK MARKS THAT DISAPPEARED. 223 
 
 "CELL NO. 52 REPRESENTATIVE 
 ALPHONSE VAUBAN." 
 
 But, while it magnified his vision, it, at the same 
 time, clarified his intellect . Supreme emergencies 
 often produce this effect on energetic minds. 
 
 M. Vauban's cell was, as we already know, but 
 three doors to the right of Louvet's. At any instant, 
 the eyes of the drunkard might clear, and the writing 
 become decipherable to his sight. Then, with a few 
 short steps, and two strokes of the chalk, he would 
 consign M. Vauban to the guillotine. 
 
 What was to be done? 
 
 There are times in every man's life when the reason 
 acts with the rapidity of lightning. Within the com- 
 pass of a few seconds, a thousand thoughts and 
 projects flash in succession before the tribunal of the 
 judgment, and are rejected, or accepted, with marvel- 
 ous intuition. 
 
 Presently the man acts, and the world exclaims, 
 "He did the right thing on the spur of the moment," 
 because the quick logic that prompted his performance 
 is inconceivable. 
 
 This happened in the case of Jean Louvet. The 
 imminent peril that threatened his friend prompted 
 him to a wondrous activity of thought; and, before 
 two seconds had passed by, he had decided upon a 
 course to pursue. 
 
 "My good citizen," he said to the jailer. "I don't 
 wonder that you cannot read the writing; it is so 
 dark here that even the sharpest eyes woijld be severely
 
 224 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 tested. Why don't you go over to that window, 
 where it is lighter?" 
 
 "You're right/' returned the other, with a maudlin 
 shake of the head. "Why blarst my eyes! your 
 advice is so simple, I must be a blamed idiot not to 
 have thought of it before." 
 
 With these words, he staggered toward the end of 
 the cortidor, and, holding the paper close to his eyes, 
 was presently absorbed in its contemplation. 
 
 While he was so engaged, Jean Louvet. tiptoed 
 stealthily to Vauban's cell, and threw the door wide 
 open. As it turned outward on its hinges, this ma- 
 neuvre left its inside surface exposed. Fortunately 
 the cell doors in the Conciergerie were numbered on 
 both sides ; nevertheless, the dark interior of Vauban's 
 chamber was visible, rendering the success of Louvet's 
 stratagem very doubtful. 
 
 "What!" exclaimed M. Vauban. "Have the tum- 
 brils arrived so early?" 
 
 "Hush !" whispered Louvet, thrusting his head 
 through the open door. "Not a sound, or you are 
 lost!" 
 
 Then he stole back to his former position. Scarcely 
 had he reached it, when he heard the jailer's voice 
 cry out, triumphantly : 
 
 "Hurrah for the blessed daylight ! I'm able to read 
 the writing at last." 
 
 And he came staggering up the corridor, muttering 
 "Cell No. 52 52 52" as if to impress the figures 
 upon his memory. 
 
 Presently he arrived before the door of M. Vauban's
 
 "PUT THE CROSS ON IT FIRST, MY FRIEND," HE SAID 
 PERSUASIVELY, " OR YOU MAY GET YOURSELF IN 
 
 TROUBLE." Page 225.
 
 CHALK MARKS THAT DISAPPEARED. 22$ 
 
 cell, and was amazed to find it open. He was about 
 to close it, when Louvet laid a detaining hand upon 
 his arm. 
 
 "Put the cross on it first, my friend," he said, per- 
 suasively, "or you may get yourself in trouble."* 
 
 The drunken jailer loked up into his face, with be- 
 wilderment in his bleared eyes, and, seeing there an 
 expression of apparent solicitude on his behalf, marked 
 a cross upon the door, and slammed it to. Fearful 
 lest he might discover, drunk as he was, that his chalk 
 marks were no longer visible, Louvet hurried him on 
 to the cell of his next victim. After he had gone the 
 rounds of the prison, the young man remarked : 
 
 "Don't you think it would be well to lock the doors 
 under your charge ? It is apparent that you have for- 
 gotten to do so.'' 
 
 The jailer cast upon him a look of maudlin gratitude. 
 
 "Why, what a famous good fellow you are!" he 
 exclaimed. "Blast me, if it ain't a shame to send such 
 a man to the guillotine !" 
 
 Nevertheless, after repeating the rounds of the 
 prison, and locking the doors he had formerly neglected 
 to secure, he seized this "famous good fellow" by the 
 arm, and hurried him away to the carriage that was 
 in waiting to convey him to the Revolutionary 
 Tribunal. 
 
 * Thomas Paine, the author of the " Rights of Man," was a 
 member of the National Convention of the French Republic 
 during the French Revolution. He was arrested and impris- 
 oned in the Luxembourg, where he escaped death upon the 
 guillotine in the exact manner described above,.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE SOUNDING BOARD CEASES TO RESPOND. 
 
 WHILE on his way to trial, Jean Louvet was com- 
 pelled to pass by the hall of the National Convention. 
 Crowds of people, vainly seeking admittance, were 
 surging round the doors, apparently deaf to the as- 
 surances of the gendarmes on duty that the galleries 
 were already overcrowded. 
 
 Louvet's eyes sparkled, as he gazed upon the build- 
 ing; for he knew that a tremendous battle was raging 
 within its walls, upon the result of which the fate of 
 France depended. He strained his ears eagerly to 
 catch the sounds of a tumult; but heard nothing in- 
 dicative of confusion. 
 
 Several times, however, when the clamor of the 
 crowd abated, he heard a voice, as harsh as a screech- 
 owl's, protesting querulously to the assembled Rep- 
 resentatives. 
 
 "It is Robespierre's," he muttered, anxiously; and 
 passed on to appear before his judges. 
 
 He was right. 
 
 Among the first to enter the Convention Hall, on 
 
 that memorable morning, was the tyrant, with a throng 
 
 of his Jacobin friends at his heels. His partisans, 
 
 forewarned, already packed the galleries, and he 
 
 [226]
 
 THE SOUNDING BOARD CEASES TO RESPOND. 22/ 
 
 glanced up at them with a smile of triumph, as he 
 walked briskly down the aisle to his seat. 
 
 As he had been absent from the meetings for a 
 considerable length of time, his reappearance was 
 greeted with loud cheers. 
 
 Settling himself down in his chair, he calmly awaited 
 the arrival of his opponents, confidently expecting to 
 destroy them at a blow. Presently they began to ap- 
 pear, by twos and threes, not gesticulating and chat- 
 tering as was their wont, but silent and somber, going 
 directly to their appointed places, the moment they 
 entered the hall. 
 
 Could they have been informed of his intended de- 
 nunciation ? 
 
 With a sidelong glance, he studied the face of 
 Barras. There was an undoubted defiance in its ' 
 expression. Then he threw a glance in Tallien's di- 
 rection. His whole attitude was audacious and in- 
 trepid. Freron's countenance was pale and deter- 
 mined; Bourdon's reckless; while Collot d'Herbois 
 frowned gloomily. 
 
 At last President Thuriot mounted to his chair on 
 the platform, and formally opened the session. 
 
 Awaiting the first lull in the proceedings, Robes- 
 pierre left his seat, and deliberately mounted into the 
 tribune. It could be seen that his jaundiced face was 
 clouded with an ominous gloom. Pausing for a mo- 
 ment, to cast an imperious glance over the assem- 
 blage, he drew a carefully prepared manuscript from 
 his pocket, and began reading from it in a voice boding 
 of death to many of his hearers.
 
 228 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Judge whether his enemies listened with interest.. 
 
 In accents unmelodious and grating, he sounded 
 the note of warning. He laid stress on the degenerate 
 condition of the republican spirit among his confreres. 
 He accused the Moderates of corruption, and asserted 
 that the Committees were infected. There was back- 
 sliding on this hand, and on that. As for himself, he 
 declared, he was ready to die at a moment's warning, 
 should the Republic require his life. But his patriot- 
 ism and honesty were well known. 
 
 Finally, with an outburst of passionate eloquence, 
 he demanded the death of all traitors. It was for their 
 punishment that the guillotine had been established, 
 and to the guillotine it was just that they should go. 
 He poured forth a perfect torrent of denunciations, 
 glancing significantly at his enemies in turn, and con- 
 cluded by calling upon all honest Representatives to 
 rally round him, and weed out the traitors from their 
 midst. 
 
 When he had finished, he cast an expectant glance 
 about, awaiting the applause which had hitherto been 
 accorded to his speeches. For the terrorized Con- 
 vention had heretofore responded, like a sounding- 
 board, to every utterance that left his lips. 
 
 This time, however, the sounding board was silent. 
 
 For a moment a stillness as of death reigned. TTien 
 a few of his Jacobin friends raised a faint cheer of 
 approbation, which was continued by his partisans in 
 the galleries. 
 
 Robespierre descended from the tribune, livid with 
 anger and dismay ; and, returning to his seat, glared
 
 THE SOUNDING BOARD CEASES TO RESPOND. 22Q 
 
 defiance at his opponents. At this juncture, Repre- 
 sentative Lecointre, fearing the tyrant's vengeance, 
 rose insidiously in his place, and moved that Robes- 
 pierre's speech should be printed, and sent to the de- 
 partments, in accordance with established usage. 
 
 What could poor Thuriot do but put this motion to 
 a vote? 
 
 Alas, for the cowardice of human nature! Con- 
 fronted with this unexpected dilemma, the Thermido- 
 rians were seized with panic ; and, joining their voices 
 to the acclamations of Robespierre's friends, voted for 
 the printing of the speech. 
 
 This indorsement of the tyrant's policy would have 
 sealed the fate of his enemies, then and there, had there 
 not been among them one brave man to stem the tide 
 of battle. Realizing that he was irrevocably doomed, 
 and that consequently nothing could be lost by a 
 violent self-defense, Representative Cambon sprang to 
 his feet, shouting in tones that shook the hall : 
 
 "One single man paralyzes the Convention, and that 
 man is Robespierre." 
 
 Inspired by Cambon's audacity, the Thermidorians 
 shook off their terror. In rapid succession, their 
 leaders sprang up and assailed the amazed tyrant with 
 more and more vigorous blows. 
 
 A tumult filled the hall. 
 
 Aware that the charm of his invincibility was gone, 
 Robespierre cast frightened looks around; and, 
 with the political sagacity that characterized him, saw 
 in an instant the peril of his position. It was not, 
 however, until a second vote on his fatal speech had
 
 230 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 been taken, and the resolution to print it rescinded 
 by a large majority, that he fully comprehended the 
 strength of the new party which had sprung up over 
 night to oppose him. 
 
 Mute with alarm, he immediately left the Conven- 
 tion, and hastened to his friends in the Club of Ja- 
 cobins. There, he called a meeting of its most in- 
 fluential members, and read to them the speech which 
 the Convention had repudiated. At its conclusion he 
 raised his hand impressively, and delivered these sol- 
 emn words: 
 
 "Brothers, you have heard my last will and testa- 
 ment. I have seen to-day that the league of villains 
 is so strong, that I cannot hope to escape them. I 
 yield without a murmur! I leave to you my memory; 
 it will be dear to you, and you will defend it." 
 
 Then he fell back fainting with exhaustion. 
 
 Immediately, the building resounded with thunders 
 of applause, and vows of sanguinary vengeance. Many 
 were affected even to tears, and, crowding round their 
 leader, conjured him, with the most urgent entreaties, 
 to arouse the people to insurrection. Henriot, the 
 Commander of the National Guards, declared his 
 readiness to march his troops against the Convention. 
 
 These evidences of support roused fresh courage in 
 the trembling tyrant. Knowing that death was the 
 inevitable doom of the defeated party in the political 
 battle then raging, he was persuaded to accept Hen- 
 riot's offer, saying : 
 
 "Well, then, let us separate the wicked from the
 
 THE SOUNDING BOARD CEASES TO RESPOND. 23! 
 
 weak ! Free the Convention from those who oppress 
 it ! Advance and save the country ! If, in these gen- 
 erous efforts we fail, my friends, you shall see me 
 drink hemlock calmly." 
 
 The enthusiasm evoked by these hypocritical words 
 was tremendous. 
 
 David, the famous painter, sprang forward and 
 grasped his hand, exclaiming : 
 
 "Robespierre, if you drink hemlock, I will drink it 
 with you!" 
 
 "We will all drink hemlock!" cried a multitude of 
 voices. "To die with Robespierre is to die with the 
 people !" 
 
 Francois the Idler was a witness of this scene. He 
 was a witness also of a violent incident that succeed- 
 ed it. 
 
 Several Thermidorians, having followed Robespierre 
 to the Jacobin Club, were recognized and denounced 
 by Couthon. Immediately, a number of violent Ja- 
 cobins fell upon them furiously, and drove them from 
 the club house, wounded and half stripped of their 
 garments. 
 
 This exhibition of rage produced a curious effect 
 upon Robespierre. It determined him on a change in 
 his plans. Before its occurrence, he had consented to 
 an insurrection of the people on his behalf; after it, 
 he positively refused to countenance means so lawless 
 and desperate. 
 
 His retraction, however, was probably prompted by 
 confidence, rather than virtue ; for he now firmly be-
 
 232 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 lieved in his ability to triumph in the Convention o 
 the following day. 
 
 Francois the Idler, as has been said, was a witness 
 of these dramatic scenes, and, fully conscious of their 
 ominous significance, hurried off to warn the Thermi- 
 dorians of their peril.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 LOST BEYOND HOPE. 
 
 JEAN LOUVET'S trial before the Revolutionary 
 Tribunal was a mockery from beginning to end. He 
 knew that it would be so, and went through it with 
 scornful indifference. 
 
 He made no efforts at defense, merely replying to 
 the questions asked him. Within ten minutes from 
 the opening of his case, he was adjudged guilty of 
 treason, and sentenced to the guillotine. 
 
 On his return to the Conciergerie, he was received 
 by his jailer, who displayed a friendly interest in his 
 fate. 
 
 "I know what your return here means," he said, 
 with a hiccough, "and I'm sorry that your trial turned 
 out so. You did me a good turn this morning, and 
 I'll not forget it. Those unlocked cells might have 
 cost me my job. So, if I can do anything to make you 
 comfortable while you stop here, why just let me 
 know." 
 
 "Thank you," returned Lou vet. "If you are really 
 desirous of serving me, I can suggest a way. Events 
 of the greatest importance to the Republic are taking 
 place in Paris, and I am anxious to know what is 
 
 [233]
 
 234 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 going on. If you will find out, from time to time, 
 and bring me word, I will repay you amply." 
 
 The jailer agreed to this readily. 
 
 "Do you know, citizen," he added, as he conducted 
 Louvet to his cell, "that a very strange thing happened 
 during your absence ?" 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 "Yes, the strangest thing that was ever heard of; 
 but perhaps you can explain it. You remember what 
 trouble I had to read the list of the condemned this 
 morning, and how the cell numbers all ran together 
 on the paper? Well, at your advice, I went over to 
 the window, where the light was better, and made out 
 that the next cell I was to put a cross on was No. 52." 
 
 "Yes," answered Louvet, trembling with apprehen- 
 sion, "and I saw you mark the door of that cell with 
 my own eyes." 
 
 "Of course you did!" exclaimed the jailer, "and 
 you saw me close the door as well. You also helped 
 me lock every door under my care, I'll swear to that !" 
 
 Louvet's heart sickened with dread. 
 
 "Go on !" he muttered faintly. 
 
 "Well, according to my list, the prisoner in No. 52 
 was Representative Alphonse Vauban. So you can 
 understand my surprise, when I tell you what hap- 
 pened. While you were away to be tried, the tumbrils 
 arrived to cart off the condemned to the guillotine. 
 The chief jailer visited the cells himself, opened all 
 those I had marked with a cross, and called upon the 
 inmates to come forth to be executed. After the tum- 
 brils had departed, I made my usual round of the cells,
 
 LOST BEYOND HOPE. 235 
 
 with water for the prisoners, and came presently to 
 No. 52." 
 
 He hesitated, looking up into Jean's face with a 
 puzzled expression. 
 
 By this time they had reached the door of Vauban's 
 cell. 
 
 "Well, what next?" asked Louvet, tremulously. 
 
 Pointing to the closed door of cell No. 52, the 
 jailer replied, in a superstitious whisper : 
 
 "The cross marks had disappeared, and the prisoner 
 was within. Look for yourself!" 
 
 Tears of joy sparkled in Jean Louvet's eyes ; for 
 he now knew that his stratagem had succeeded. 
 
 Just then the murmur of voices in conversation is- 
 sued through the grating. One was the light treble 
 of a child; the other the deep, rich bass of a man. 
 They informed him that he had saved the little girl 
 as well as Vauban. A moment afterward, Louvet was 
 locked securely in his own narrow chamber, and left 
 to meditate upon his fast approaching doom. 
 
 About five in the afternoon, the friendly jailer, whose 
 name was Billaud, peered through the grating of the 
 door and whispered hoarsely: 
 
 "I've news for you, citizen." 
 
 Advancing with alacrity, Jean reached the grief- 
 hole, and pressed his face close against the iron bars. 
 
 "I am listening," he muttered anxiously. "You 
 may proceed." 
 
 "There's been the wildest excitement in the Con- 
 vention to-day," said Billaud, in nervous undertones. 
 "Robespierre denounced his enemies in a great speech,
 
 236 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 and they raised such an uproar against him, that he 
 left the hall in a rage. It appears that a strong party 
 has been organized to ruin him; but he'll triumph in 
 spite of their efforts." 
 
 His last words were uttered so confidently that Lou- 
 vet was greatly alarmed. 
 
 "What do you mean ?" he asked. 
 
 "That the great Robespierre is now repeating his 
 speech before the Jacobin Club, and its members are 
 applauding him to a man." 
 
 "Then Robespierre was not accused and arrested 
 by the Convention's order?" 
 
 "No; and he is now mustering his friends about 
 him to defeat his enemies to-morrow morning. As he 
 has the National Guards, the gendarmes, and the 
 people at his back, he is sure to come out on top in 
 the struggle." 
 
 Louvet uttered a despairing groan; for he knew 
 that his friends were now lost beyond all hope. The 
 jailer having departed for to linger longer would 
 have been perilous he staggered back into his cell 
 and flung himself prone upon his pallet. 
 
 "Lost! Lost!" he moaned, in anguish. "Of what 
 avail was my stratagem to delay M. Vauban's execu- 
 tion until to-morrow ? To repeat it will be impossible. 
 To-morrow he will be murdered upon the guillotine, 
 even should Robespierre's enemies triumph. They 
 have lost a day by their cowardly indecision, and that 
 will prove fatal to my friends. Oh, Louise, my own 
 beloved ! I fear you, also, must perish. Can it be pos-
 
 LOST BEYOND HOPE. 237 
 
 sible there is a God in Heaven to permit such things 
 to come to pass?" 
 
 So excessive was his grief, that it deprived him of 
 all consciousness, and he lay face downward on his 
 couch like one devoid of life. 
 
 At six o'clock in the evening, he was roused to par- 
 take of supper. He forced himself to eat the coarse 
 fare provided, as he was resolved to retain his strength 
 until the last. 
 
 At seven o'clock, the door of his cell was unlocked, 
 and he was informed that the hour for evening exer- 
 cise had arrived. As this would afford him an oppor- 
 tunity to converse again with M. Vauban, he deter- 
 mined to avail himself of it. 
 
 So, hastening into the corridor, he mingled once 
 more with the condemned prisoners, until he beheld 
 his friend, pacing to and fro at the end of the gallery, 
 holding the little girl by the hand. 
 
 "Good evening, Citizen Louvet!" exclaimed M. 
 Vauban, cheerily. "Have you appeared before the 
 Revolutionary Tribunal as yet?" 
 
 "I have," was the gloomy response, "and was sent- 
 enced to death without a hearing. So we may ride 
 together to the Place de la Revolution to-morrow." 
 
 "Do you mean that the coup d'etat you spoke of this 
 morning has failed, and that Robespierre still tyran- 
 nizes over the nation ?" 
 
 "It grieves me to answer, yes," returned Louvet, 
 bowing his head dejectedly. "Even if he should be 
 dethroned to-morrow, I fear it would be too late for 
 our salvation."
 
 ?38 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "Take heart, my noble friend," returned Vauban, 
 gently. "I assure you that I do not fear to die. There 
 is but one regret I have," he added, lowering his voice 
 to a whisper. "I would suffer any torture if I could 
 save this little child." 
 
 While speaking he laid his hand tenderly upon the 
 little one's head, and glanced down upon her with 
 fatherly affection. Louvet was on the point of telling 
 him that it would be more consistent to save his 
 sympathies for his own daughter, who was at that 
 moment a prisoner in the Luxembourg, awaiting the 
 death sentence, when a glance at his friend's benevo- 
 lent countenance restrained him. 
 
 M. Vauban was unaware as yet of the fate that had 
 befallen Louise, and it would be an act of unnecessary 
 cruelty to inform him. 
 
 "On what charge was this child condemned?" in- 
 quired Jean, after a pause. 
 
 "Her parents were unfortunately aristocrats," re- 
 plied M. Vauban. 
 
 Jean was about to press his inquiries further, when 
 a commotion at the other end of the corridor attracted 
 his attention. There was a door there, opening upon 
 a flight of steps that led down to the cells of the con- 
 demned. Beyond it was a narrow hall, communicating 
 with the prison offices, and with the apartments of 
 the chief jailer and his underlings. 
 
 This door had just been opened to admit a number 
 of new arrivals from the other prisons, who had been 
 condemned and sentenced by the Revolutionary Tri- 
 bunal that day. One by one, they slowly descended
 
 LOST BEYOND HOPE. 230 
 
 into the corridor, and joined those who had pre- 
 ceded them on their fatal journey. 
 
 "It is evident that the tumbrils have come from 
 the Court of the Tribunal," said M. Vauban, casting 
 a pitying glance upon the unhappy wretches. "Poor 
 unfortunates, how my heart aches for them !" 
 
 Suddenly he started back with an agonized cry. 
 
 "Oh, mercy, dear God ! Mercy !" 
 
 Turning quickly toward him, Louvet saw that his 
 eyes were starting from their sockets, and that every 
 muscle of his ashen face quivered with mortal anguish. 
 
 Following the direction of his fixed gaze, Jean be- 
 held an apparition that completely deprived him of the 
 use of his faculties. A terrible groan welled uo from 
 the depths of his breaking 1 heart, and, staring va- 
 cantly toward the door of the corridor, he tottered 
 back against the wall for support. 
 
 At that instant, a bell clanged somewhere in the 
 building, announcing that the period of exercise had 
 expired.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE NINTH OF THERMIDOK. 
 
 THE night intervening between the eighth and ninth 
 of Thermidor was one of the most intense anxiety in 
 Paris. The stormy scenes in the Convention, during 
 its session of the day before, had reached the ears of 
 every citizen, and the clubs, cafes and wine-shops 
 were thronged to their utmost capacity. 
 
 Excited groups occupied every corner, discussing 
 the probable result of Robespierre second battle with 
 the Convention. In the Faubourg St. Antoine, there 
 was a rising of the people, instigated by the tyrant's 
 partisans. His friends, too, were active in concerting 
 insurrections in other quarters of the city, with the 
 idea of mobbing the Convention on the morrow, in 
 the event of their leader's defeat by the members of 
 that body. 
 
 Nor were the despot's enemies inactive. Tallien, 
 Barras, Freron, and their adherents slept not. A corps 
 of messengers and agents, some on horseback, others 
 on foot, were kept busy until daylight, bringing them 
 intelligence of the transactions at the Club of Jacob- 
 ins, and of the increasing tumult of the people. 
 
 Apprised of their danger, they made vigorous prep- 
 arations for the defense of the Convention Hall 
 [240]
 
 THE NINTH OF THERMIDOR. 24! 
 
 against the rabble, and their own protection during 
 the session. 
 
 It was unanimously resolved that, should Robes- 
 pierre attempt to mount the tribune, he must be de- 
 nounced by internal tumult, and not permitted to 
 speak. The Thermidorians were to rise from their 
 seats in a body and cry him down. Then Tallien, as 
 the most audacious and eloquent of their leaders, was 
 to force his way into the tribune, in Robespierre's 
 place, and call for his accusation and arrest. 
 
 Barras was intrusted with the military defense, to 
 prevent the rabble from interfering with these pro- 
 ceedings. Thus each party, not knowing the strength 
 of the other, made every possible preparation for the 
 morrow, and was sanguine of success. 
 
 While the chief actors in the approaching drama 
 were so engaged, three humble citizens were sitting 
 round a table in a small wine-shop, situated in the 
 Faubourg St. Antoine, conversing, with their heads 
 close together, after the approved manner of conspir- 
 ators. The room they occupied was a small, square 
 chamber, reserved for the use of *"* customers, 
 who did not wish to be disturbed while sipping their 
 wine. Nevertheless, there was a possibility that an 
 eavesdropper might be lurking around, so they con- 
 ferred in whispers. 
 
 "I should positively die of shame," said one, "if we 
 should allow the Chief to perish without lifting a hand
 
 242 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 to save him. That is why I asked you to meet me 
 here." 
 
 "You are no more anxious on his behalf than I am, 
 Andre," returned a stockily-built man at his left. 
 
 "Nor than I," chimed in the fashionably attired 
 lounger, sitting at his right. 
 
 "Well, then," returned the first speaker, "let us see 
 what means Andre the Barber, Simon the Jailer, and 
 Franyois the Idler can devise for his rescue." 
 
 "What have you to suggest?" asked Simon. 
 
 Andre the Barber shook his head hopelessly. 
 
 "If I could only gain an audience with Robes- 
 pierre," he said, "I think I could persuade him to delay 
 the execution. He really believes me one of the truest 
 friends he has, and might spare the Chief as a personal 
 favor to me." 
 
 "I doubt it," returned Simon, with an incredulous 
 shake of the head. 
 
 "Then suggest something better if you can." 
 
 Simon the Jailer now looked despairingly at Fran- 
 gois. 
 
 "Can't you come to our aid, comrade?" he asked. 
 
 The young man appealed to, leaned farther over the 
 table, and answered, drawlingly: 
 
 "It is useless for Andre to seek an interview with 
 Robespierre, for he is far too anxious about his own 
 head just now to think of saving the head of another. 
 Therefore, we will eliminate Andre's suggestion from 
 consideration. As for you, Simon," he continued, 
 "you acknowledge that you have no suggestion to
 
 THE N NTFI OF THERMIDOR. 243 
 
 offer. Therefore, it remains with me to propose a plot 
 for your acceptance." 
 
 Pausing a moment to enjoy the discomfiture of his 
 comrades, he resumed : 
 
 "There is only one possible way of saving our dear 
 Chief from the guillotine, and even that may fail." 
 
 Here he bent still nearer to his companions ; lowered 
 his voice to a whisper; and assumed such an air of 
 mystery, that even the ubiquitous novelist, who is sup- 
 posed to penetrate with an infallible intuition into the 
 most secret plots and motives of his characters, in 
 this case must confess to failure. 
 
 That Frangois' scheme was a clever one, however, 
 was apparent from the behavior of his listeners. 
 
 "A capital idea!" exclaimed Andre, hopefully. 
 "You can trust me to play my part in it." 
 
 "And you can count on me also," chimed in Simon, 
 his face glowing with enthusiasm. "There's no mis- 
 take about it, Frangois, you are a young man of posi- 
 tive genius." 
 
 At this point their conference ended, and they hur- 
 ried out of the wine-shop. 
 
 Scarcely had they reached the sidewalk, when a 
 clock in the neighborhood struck midnight. 
 
 "The ninth of Thermidor has begun !," exclaimed 
 Frangois, in solemn tones. 
 
 "A day destined to be one of the most memorable 
 in history," added Andre, with prophetic gravity. 
 
 And, embracing one another fervently, the three 
 friends separated.
 
 244 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 When the sun soared above the roofs and steeples of 
 Paris, on the day called, according to republican chro- 
 nology, the ninth of Thermidor, but which the civilized 
 world in general designated, the 27th of July, 1794, 
 Robespierre arose from the bed, where he had thrown 
 himself to rest, rather than to sleep, and attired himself 
 with his usual scrupulous care. 
 
 For was he not to gain a signal triumph over his 
 enemies before nightfall ? 
 
 It was evident that he thought so; for his eyes 
 twinkled wickedly, and a smile of grim determination 
 settled about the corners of his harsh mouth. 
 
 "I was taken by surprise yesterday," he reflected, 
 pacing his bedchamber, while waiting for his break- 
 fast; "consequently my enemies gained a temporary 
 advantage over me. To-day, however, I am prepared, 
 and will crush them. Ungrateful wretches ! Have 
 they forgotten all I have sacrificed to the cause of 
 liberty?" 
 
 His eyes blazed with fanaticism as he continued : 
 
 "It rests with thee, Maximilian Robespierre, to res- 
 cue France from her enemies, for thou alone art in- 
 corruptible. Thy destiny and that of the Republic are 
 one. Victory for thee to-day, means the triumph of 
 liberty; defeat, the downfall of the Republic." 
 
 When Robespierre entered the Convention Hall, 
 later in the morning, silence reigned throughout the 
 crowded house. Every eye was turned upon him, as 
 he walked quickly to his seat, casting scornful, tri- 
 umphant glances upon his enemies. 
 
 The galleries were packed to suffocation; for all
 
 THE NINTH OF THERMIDOR. 245 
 
 Paris knew that life, or death, was involved in the 
 issue of the political struggle about to begin. 
 
 In one corner of the upper gallery, sat Jacques the 
 Blacksmith, his huge arms resting upon the railing, 
 and his ferocious face supported between his great 
 hands. At his side, sat Francois the Idler, whispering 
 to him earnestly at intervals ; and, forming an attentive 
 group around these two, were some twenty red-capped 
 denizens of St. Antoine, the members of a political club 
 of which the blacksmith was the leader. 
 
 "I have brought you here, Citizen Jacques," whis- 
 pered Frangois, "to let you judge for yourself whether 
 this Maximilian Robespierre is, or is not, determined 
 to tyrannize as a despot over the Republic. The Con- 
 vention, which, as you know, is composed of Repre- 
 sentatives of the people, will force him to show his 
 hand to-day, and you can then see how he has been 
 deceiving honest patriots like ourselves." 
 
 Jacques the Blacksmith, who had already been some- 
 what shaken in his confidence in Robespierre by Fran- 
 gois' arguments, nodded his head doubtfully, and mut- 
 tered : 
 
 "We shall see." 
 
 At that moment a commotion on the floor of the 
 house indicated that the hour for commencing the tre- 
 mendous drama had arrived. 
 
 St. Just, on behalf of Robespierre, began the onset. 
 
 A scene of tumult immediately ensued of which no 
 adequate description can be given. As narrated in the 
 'Moniteur, of the nth of Thermidor, it stands out as 
 one of the most exciting episodes in history.
 
 246 THE MAN WHO DARED.' %. 
 
 \ 
 
 The Thermidorians rose in a body and filled the halt 
 with their wild cries. St. Just, confused by the clamor, 
 paused at the steps of the tribune, undecided what 
 course to pursue. Seeing at a glance that his friends 
 were far outnumbered by his foes, Robespierre was 
 overwhelmed with despair. 
 
 Pale and agitated he attempted to ascend the tribune. 
 
 But Tallien was too quick for him. Rushing for- 
 ward with blazing eyes, he laid rude hands on the 
 despot's person, and dragged him forcibly away. This 
 audacious act inspired the Thermidorians with enthu- 
 siasm. 
 
 "Down with the tyrant!" 
 
 The great hall trembled to this cry. 
 
 While the uproar was at its height, Tallien, mount- 
 ing the tribune from which he had just ejected Robes- 
 pierre, raised his hand to command a hearing. Sud- 
 denly the mad cries of his partisans ceased. Then 
 their bold leader, with a dramatic, impassioned gesture, 
 addressed them in words instinct with warning. 
 
 "Just now," he began, with a threatening glance at 
 Robespierre, "I determined that the curtain should be 
 withdrawn. It is done. The conspirators are un- 
 masked, and liberty shall triumph. Up to this moment, 
 I had preserved utter silence, because I was aware that 
 the tyrant had made a list of proscriptions. But I 
 was present at the sitting of the Jacobins last night, 
 and heard utterances that made me tremble for the 
 existence of the Republic. I beheld the formation of 
 the army of this second Cromwell, and resolved that,
 
 THE NINTH OF THERMIDOR. 247 
 
 if the Convention dared not strike the tyrant, then I, 
 myself, would dare." 
 
 He paused, drew a glittering dagger from his waist- 
 band, and, pointing it menacingly at the breast of 
 Robespiere, cried out in tragic accents: 
 
 "And with this poniard will I pierce his heart, if 
 the Convention has not the courage to order his imme- 
 diate arrest." 
 
 At the same time he moved the arrest of Henriot 
 and other leading partisans of the despot. 
 
 The motion was tumultuously carried. 
 
 In vain did Robespierre attempt to gain a hearing. 
 Cries of "Down with the tyrant" filled the house, and 
 menaces, reproaches and insults were heaped upon him 
 without measure. 
 
 Pale with terror, he turned to President Thuriot, 
 crying out hoarsely : 
 
 "President of assassins, will you hear me ?" 
 
 But his voice was drowned in the overwhelming 
 clamor of his enemies. The motion for his arrest hav- 
 ing been carried with thunders of applause, his brother, 
 Augustin Robespierre, a young man universally es- 
 teemed for his many virtues, sprang forward to his 
 side, shouting: 
 
 "I am as guilty as my brother. As I have striven 
 to share his virtues, I demand to share his fate." 
 
 This act of generosity aroused a responsive feeling 
 in the fallen man, who instantly cried out: 
 
 "Attention, citizens! As I have, perhaps, deserved 
 your hatred, I accept your condemnation. But whether
 
 248 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 it be crime, or virtue, which you strike in. me, my 
 brother is not guilty." 
 
 Nevertheless, Augustin Robespierre was condemned 
 to arrest. In quick succession, Couthon, St. Just, 
 Lebas and others were also decreed to the same fate, 
 and the triumph of the Thermidorians was complete. 
 
 As cries of "Vive la Republique!" arose on all sides, 
 Robespierre quietly folded his arms, and, with a con- 
 temptuous sneer on his lips, exclaimed: 
 
 "The Republic? It is destroyed, for scoundrels tri- 
 umph !" 
 
 At that instant the clock in the Convention Hall 
 struck three.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 TOO LATE. 
 
 WHAT was the apparition which evoked that agon- 
 ized cry from M. Vauban, and produced such a ter- 
 rible effect upon Jean Louvet? 
 
 It was the sudden appearance of Louise and the 
 maid, Marie, in the doorway at which they were gaz- 
 ing. 
 
 With the stately bearing of a queen, she descended 
 the steps leading down into that house of death. Her 
 dark eyes expressed the utmost tranquillity, and a 
 serene smile dimpled the corners of her lovely mouth. 
 To the despairing creatures who witnessed her en- 
 trance, she appeared like one of God's angels sent to 
 console them in their last hours of misery. 
 
 Just as she reached the foot of the steps, the bell, 
 announcing that the brief period for exercise had ex- 
 pired, sounded its warning, and she was immediately 
 locked up in the cell allotted to her. Thus her friends 
 were deprived of an opportunity to communicate with 
 her, and she was left in ignorance of their presence 
 in the prison. 
 
 That night was a frightful one for Jean Louvet. 
 He paced his narrow quarters continuously, wringing 
 his hands, and moaning, like a lost soul. It seemed, 
 
 [249]
 
 250 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 at times, that his reason would become completely 
 overthrown, so terrible were his grief and despair. 
 
 As for poor Vauban, he wailed piteously through 
 most of the night, and, toward morning, sank into a 
 stupor in which he remained, until aroused by his 
 jailer for breakfast. The child he had taken under 
 his protection, amazed at his sudden collapse, sat by 
 his side in silence, until sleep relieved her of her vigils. 
 
 At last the hour for morning exercise arrived. 
 
 Jean Louvet was the first to appear. Having been 
 informed by the friendly jailer of the situation of 
 Louise's cell, he hastened thither, with breathless speed, 
 to prepare her for the approaching interview with her 
 father. He met her as she was coming through the 
 narrow door. 
 
 "Can it be possible, M. Louvet, that you are here?" 
 she cried, endeavoring to control her emotion. 
 
 "Yes, mademoiselle," returned Louvet, with a des- 
 perate effort to appear calm. "You remember the word 
 I sent you, do you not ?" 
 
 "Do you refer to your last message?" she inquired, 
 with trembling lips. 
 
 Louvet bowed his head in assent; for he had not 
 the courage to speak his thoughts. 
 
 "Then the worst has befallen my poor father," she 
 moaned, staggering against the doorpost for support. 
 
 The words that followed seemed to be addressed to 
 herself, rather than to Louvet. 
 
 "Do I remember the message of this dear friend? 
 Alas, yes; for it is engraved upon my heart. 'If failure
 
 TOO LATE. 251 
 
 should be the result of my plans,' he said, 'I will 
 perish with those whom I have struggled to rescue.' " 
 
 A period of silence followed, during which Louise 
 seemed to struggle with her emotions. Then, raising 
 her eyes to Jean's anxious face, she resumed com- 
 posedly : 
 
 "I understand what your presence here means, my 
 dear friend. It signifies that you have failed to save 
 my father. You have made a heroic fight, and I thank 
 you from the depths of my heart. But why did you 
 decide so rashly to perish with the friends you tried 
 to rescue?" 
 
 "Because I love them," was the impassioned answer. 
 
 Louise replied to this expression of genuine feeling 
 with a glance of infinite tenderness. 
 
 "When did my father go to his martyrdom?" she 
 asked timidly, after a pause. 
 
 Louvet's face brightened. 
 
 "He has not perished as yet!" he exclaimed, tri- 
 umphantly ; "for I succeeded in delaying his execution 
 for a day. He is now in this prison, and you will meet 
 him presently." 
 
 "You saved him for this meeting with me?" mur- 
 mured Louise, in tones that thrilled Louvet to the 
 heart. "Oh, how noble and considerate you are !" 
 
 At that instant, the girl caught sight of her father, 
 as he emerged dejectedly from his cell, leading his 
 little companion by the hand, and sprang forward to 
 his side. 
 
 "Oh, my dear, good father!" she exclaimed, clasp- 
 ing him tenderly in her arms. "Did you think your
 
 252 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 little Louise had deserted you? Oh, no, she is incap- 
 able of such cruelty ! Look at me, darling ! See, it is 
 your own little daughter, who has come here to share 
 your fatel" 
 
 While giving utterance to these endearments, she 
 rained kisses upon his poor old face. Then, suddenly 
 changing her tone to one of encouragement, she re- 
 sumed : 
 
 "Oh, what a glorious thing it is, dear father, that 
 we are permitted to perish together! Let us show 
 our enemies how bravely we can meet our fate. The 
 Vaubans were never cowards, father." 
 
 Jean Louvet, who had followed her across the corri- 
 dor, was entranced with the heroism she displayed. 
 Indeed, there was something so magnetic in her utter- 
 ances that the hearts of all present were inspired with 
 enthusiasm, and even M. Vauban was reanimated with 
 new courage. 
 
 During the hour that ensued, the Vaubans and Jean 
 Louvet conversed happily together, without once men- 
 tioning their fast approaching doom. As if by tacit 
 agreement, this theme was carefully avoided, although 
 the future world and kindred subjects were discoursed 
 of freely. In fact, it was one of those rare occasions, 
 when soul is revealed to soul, and speech becomes 
 spiritualized and sublime. 
 
 On the afternoon of the ninth of Thermidor, an 
 unusual delay occurred in the arrival at the Con-
 
 TOO LATE. 253 
 
 ciergerie of the tumbrils. They generally made their 
 appearance at two o'clock; but on the day of Robes- 
 pierre's downfall, were strangely dilatory. 
 
 When the customary hour passed, and still they 
 did not come, the despairing victims in the prison 
 began to hope. As minute after minute sped on, with- 
 out their being summoned to come forth to death, this 
 hope grew stronger in their breasts. 
 
 Suddenly the great clock in the corridor struck 
 three. 
 
 While the air still vibrated with the sound of its last 
 stroke, a faint noise was heard in the street outside. 
 Then a universal groan arose from every cell, and de- 
 spair resumed its sway in every heart. For there was 
 no mistaking the significance of that low, continuous 
 noise. 
 
 It was the rumbling of heavy cartwheels over ihe 
 pavement. 
 
 At last the sounds suddenly ceased, just opposite 
 the entrance to the prison, and a period of silence 
 followed. It was broken, shortly afterward, by the 
 tread of footsteps approaching the door, which pres- 
 ently opened, and the chief jailer descended into the 
 corridor. He was followed by two underlings, with 
 great bunches of keys dangling from their waistbands. 
 
 "There's room in the carts for all to-day," he an- 
 nounced, with an imperious gesture. 
 
 Then, turning on his heel, he added with a brutal 
 laugh, "St. Guillotine will be pleased with our gener- 
 ous offering."
 
 254 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 When the door had closed after him, the turnkeys 
 made the rounds, opening cell after cell as they pro- 
 ceeded, and calling upon the prisoners to come forth. 
 
 In a few 'minutes the condemned were all standing 
 in the corridor, huddled together in little groups, ac- 
 
 ^rding to the friendships they had formed during 
 their short stay in the prison. M. Vauban, Louise, 
 Marie, Jean Louvet and the little girl constituted one 
 of these small bands. They were wondering whether 
 they would be allowed to ride in the same tumbril, 
 when the friendly jailer approached them and mumbled 
 cautiously : 
 
 "If you'd like to remain in each other's company 
 until the last, I think I can manage to arrange it." 
 
 "Thank you," said Jean, gratefully. "I wish it were 
 in my power to reward you for your kindness, but I 
 am unable to do so at present. However," he added, 
 handing the jailer a valuable ring, "there is a trifle on 
 which you should raise at least a thousand francs." 
 
 The keeper took the offering in open-mouthed aston- 
 ishment, and slipped it slyly into his pocket. 
 
 At that moment the chief jailer appeared, and beck- 
 oned the prisoners to come forward. They followed 
 him through a long hall into a large, dark room, where 
 they again fell into groups, awaiting the final summons 
 to go forth to execution. 
 
 When this time at last arrived, the jailer was as 
 good as his word. Approaching Louvet hastily, he 
 whispered : 
 
 "Keep close to your friends and follow me !"
 
 TOO LATE. 255 
 
 Then, elbowing his way quickly through the crowd, 
 he led them through the prison entrance to the street, 
 and hurried them into the nearest tumbril. A number 
 of other prisoners took places beside them, and, with a 
 crack of his whip, the driver started on the fatal 
 journey, escorted by mounted guards on the right and 
 left. 
 
 The remaining tumbrils were soon filled with vic- 
 tims, and formed in procession behind. As they jolted 
 slowly over the pavements, crowds walked beside them, 
 howling execrations at their occupants, and waving 
 hats, sticks and clenched fists in the air. 
 
 At this time the guillotine was situated in the Place 
 de la Revolution, a considerable distance from the Con- 
 ciergerie, and it was customary to change the route 
 of the death carts at frequent intervals. The way 
 chosen on this fateful occasion led across the Place du 
 Carrousel, and, as they drew within sight of it, a ter- 
 rible uproar reached their ears. 
 
 "It is as I feared," muttered Louvet, rising in his 
 place and looking toward the scene of commotion. 
 "Robespierre has incited an insurrection in order to 
 crush his opponents in the Convention." 
 
 He remained gazing upon the approaching mob, until 
 the tumbrils entered the Place du Carrousel, and passed 
 several carts going in an opposite direction. 
 
 Then he uttered an agonized cry and sank back, 
 limp and powerless. 
 
 "What ails you, dear friend?" asked Louise, anx- 
 iously.
 
 256 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Louvet pointed to a figure in one of the passing 
 carts. 
 
 "Look well at that man !" he groaned faintly. "Tis 
 Robespierre, and he is on his way to prison. I have 
 accomplished his downfall. I have won the game. But, 
 alas, too late ! Too late !"
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 WITHIN SIGHT OF THE GUILLOTINE. 
 
 LOUISE glanced in the direction indicated, and saw 
 that Louvet had indeed spoken the truth. 
 
 In the foremost death-cart, stood the great Robes- 
 pierre, his hands tied together behind his back and his 
 face bent downward, in an attitude of complete aban- 
 donment to despair. On one side, he was supported 
 by his brother, Augustin, on the other, by a gendarme. 
 
 St. Just, Couthon, Lebas and many other of his most 
 active partisans occupied the carts that followed. They 
 were manacled, guarded by gendarmes, and were pale 
 with fright. A strong escort of mounted guards rode, 
 two by two, on both sides of the carts, to protect the 
 prisoners from the fury of the populace, who crowded 
 in upon them, shouting madly : 
 
 "Vive la Rcpublique! Death to the tyrant!" 
 
 What a swift and awful retribution ! 
 
 At sunrise, an absolute dictator; ere nightfall, a 
 condemned outlaw. In the morning, the idol of the 
 people; in the afternoon, the object of their vengeance. 
 Feared and despised; beloved and hated; omnipotent 
 and helpless; from the pinnacle of greatness to the 
 gutter of contempt and all within the compass of a 
 day. 
 
 ' 1257]
 
 2$8 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 To find its parallel, one must turn from human his- 
 tory to Divine, and contemplate the downfall of proud 
 Lucifer. 
 
 "Oh, how deeply I pity him !" sighed Louise, gazing 
 upon the fallen tyrant with infinite compassion. 
 
 Did he hear her ? 
 
 Or was there an occult attraction in her starry eyes 
 which compelled him to look up? 
 
 Certain it is that, while the carts were passing, 
 Robespierre uplifted his face suddenly, and their 
 glances met.* 
 
 A flash of recognition; a second flash, eloquent in 
 meaning, passed between them ; then the man instantly 
 shifted his gaze toward the Conciergerie ; while the 
 woman turned her's heroically toward the Place de la 
 Revolution. 
 
 What messages had they communicated to one an- 
 other in that momentary glance ? 
 
 From Robespierre, an agonized cry of shame, re- 
 morse and black despair. 
 
 From Louise, a mute assurance of pity, sympathy 
 and pardon. 
 
 In the meantime, the people, who were accompany- 
 ing the tumbrils to the place of execution, now turned 
 in their tracks, and joined the howling mob that were 
 following Robespierre to the Luxembourg; at which 
 
 * In Abbott's History of the French Revolution, it is related 
 that, while Robespierre was on his way to the Luxembourg, he 
 passed a number of tumbrils conveying victims to the place of 
 execution.
 
 WITHIN SIGHT OF THE GUILLOTINE. 259 
 
 the stalwart driver, in charge of Louvet's tumbril, 
 chuckled with satisfaction and muttered : 
 
 "Nothing could have happened more fortunately." 
 
 As the tumbrils were leaving the Place du Carrousel, 
 the maid, Marie, who had hitherto borne up bravely, 
 began to tremble and weep; whereupon Louise placed 
 her arm lovingly around her, and kissing the tears 
 from her white face, said consolingly : 
 
 "Courage, my dear sister! If you love me, you 
 would not wish to abandon me; but would rather re- 
 joice to share my fate." 
 
 "Ah, mademoiselle," replied Marie, dejectedly, "you 
 are a great and noble lady, while I am but a poor and 
 humble maid." 
 
 "Nevertheless, we are devoted sisters." 
 
 And Louise again embraced her faithful maid. 
 
 She next turned with a radiant smile toward her 
 father, who had fully regained his courage and lofty 
 bearing, and was endeavoring to console the little girl 
 beside him. 
 
 "My dear, brave father!" she exclaimed, in tones of 
 affection. "But a momentary parting, and then an 
 eternity of bliss together is it not so ?" 
 
 M. Vauban answered serenely: 
 
 "It is true, my darling child !" 
 
 By this time the tumbrils were proceeding slowly 
 toward a boulevard which led directly to the Place de 
 la Revolution, and as they rumbled over the pavement, 
 the people who lived in the houses along the way, 
 emerged from their doors, and followed after them.
 
 20O THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Thus a second mob was gradually formed to accom- 
 pany them to the scene of death. 
 
 Having consoled and encouraged her maid and be- 
 loved father, Louise glanced timidly toward Jean Lou- 
 vet. Noticing an expression of profound dejection 
 upon his resolute face, she drew near, and placed a 
 hand gently upon his arm, saying : 
 
 "Do not give away to despair, Jean, for I'm sure 
 everything has happened for the best." 
 
 It was the first time she had called him by his bap- 
 tismal name, and it produced a marvelous effect upon 
 his spirits. 
 
 "God bless you, Mademoiselle Louise!" he replied 
 softly. "You have made me very, very happy." 
 
 "Do you really mean that?" she asked eagerly. 
 
 "I do, and from the depths of my heart, mad- 
 emoiselle !" 
 
 "Tell me how I have made you happy, Jean ?" 
 
 There was a slight tremor in Louvet's voice, as he 
 answered faintly: 
 
 "You have blessed me with your friendship. You 
 have forgiven my failure to save you, and, further- 
 more, you have graciously permitted me to die with 
 you, Mademoiselle Vauban." 
 
 She took both his hands in hers, and looked straight 
 into his eyes. 
 
 "My dear Jean," she said, "do you think that is quite 
 fair?" 
 
 He returned her gaze with a perplexed look. 
 
 "I do not understand you," he answered. 
 
 "Ah, I see I must explain," she said with an angelic
 
 WITHIN StGHf Otf T&E dtJiLLOTINfe. 6l 
 
 smile. "I mean, dearest Jean, that we have become 
 such perfect friends, that all formality should cease 
 between us. You are no longer Monsieur Louvet to me, 
 but my beloved brother, Jean, and it grieves me to have 
 you still address me as mademoiselle." 
 
 "You are very kind, my friend," was the young 
 man's tremulous response; "but I dare not trust my- 
 self to address you so familiarly. You might guess a 
 sacred secret that I am endeavoring to hide for your 
 sake. For I would not embitter your last moments by 
 betraying it." 
 
 While he was uttering these words, the tumbril 
 turned into the boulevard and the Place de la Revolu- 
 tion appeared in view. At the same instant the girl 
 raised her eyes and shuddered. 
 
 For the gaunt frame of the guillotine loomed darkly 
 before her. 
 
 "Oh, Jean, my beloved Jean!" she cried, suddenly 
 throwing off all maidenly restraint. "Can it be possible 
 that you do not love me after all ? Look, yonder stands 
 the guillotine ! In a few moments we must be parted 
 forever. Can you die without showing me your heart ?" 
 
 Still holding his hands, she pressed them close to her 
 throbbing bosom, exclaiming passionately : 
 
 "Oh, God, how I love this man !" 
 
 Unmindful of the taunting crowd that surged round 
 the death carts; regardless of the spectators in the 
 houses; of his fellow prisoners; and of the watchful 
 guards who rode beside them, Jean Louvet clasped her 
 yielding form close to his heart, and whispered in tones 
 of indescribable tenderness :
 
 262 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 "Louise ! My beloved !" 
 
 An ineffable smile, accompanied by a sigh of infinite 
 contentment, was her only answer to his words. 
 
 For a brief moment, the crowd; the tumbrils; the 
 guards ; the curious faces looking down from the win- 
 dows of the houses ; even the terrible guillotine, which 
 they were fast approaching, disappeared from their 
 consciousness, like the phantasms of a dream, and they 
 lived in an elysium of happiness. 
 
 From this blissful state, the young man was the first 
 to awaken ; for his eyes, chancing to wander for a mo- 
 ment to the shouting people, recognized the ferocious 
 countenance of Jacques the Blacksmith, grinning up at 
 him with an expression of savage delight. Then he 
 instantly remembered the terrible fate toward which 
 his beloved was hastening, and cried out in anguish : 
 
 "Oh, why can I not die for us both ?" 
 
 "Because it is far sweeter to perish together, dear 
 Jean," answered Louise, in a gentle whisper. 
 
 Then, looking into his eyes with passionate intensity, 
 as if she would penetrate the deepest secrets of his 
 soul, she asked suddenly: 
 
 "Tell me, my own, true Jean ! Do you believe in a 
 merciful God?" 
 
 "With the implicit faith of a child," he answered. 
 
 "Then I do not fear to die; for we can love each 
 other through countless ages," she sighed contentedly. 
 
 And Louvet whispered gently : 
 
 "Through all eternity." 
 
 At that instant a deep voice in the crowd shouted 
 fiercely :
 
 WITHIN SIGHT OF THE GUILLOTINE. 263 
 
 "Make way there! Stand aside, or we'll split ye 
 like pullets with our pikes !" 
 
 Glancing quickly over his shoulder, Louvet beheld a 
 sight that filled him with alarm. Jacques the Blacksmith 
 at the head of a mob of red-capped citizens armed with 
 pikes, clubs and axes, was clearing a way through the 
 throng toward the entrance of a narrow street that led 
 from the boulevard toward the Faubourg St. Antoine. 
 
 A moment afterward, two masked men sprang out 
 of the crowd, and, seizing the bridles of the horses 
 ridden by the nearest guardsmen, leveled pistols at the 
 soldiers, bawling: 
 
 "Turn aside as you value your lives !" 
 
 As if these bold manoeuvres were not sufficient 
 to arouse astonishment, the driver of their tumbril 
 turned suddenly to the right, and, applying the whip 
 mercilessly to the flanks of his horses, started furi- 
 ously toward the narrow street above mentioned. 
 
 Barely had the tumbril passed into this byway, before 
 its entrance was closed by red-capped pikemen, who 
 formed a solid phalanx from corner to corner. 
 
 And now a strange thing happened. 
 
 The occupants of the death-cart, who, but a few mo- 
 ments before, were going, with courage and resigna- 
 tion, to certain death, were terror-stricken at this un- 
 expected change in the programme, and began to 
 shriek loudly for help. 
 
 In justice to Jean Louvet and his friends, however, 
 it should be stated that they did not join in the clamor 
 of their companions, although they were equally over- 
 come with surprise. Louvet, in particular, had ample
 
 264 TtiE MAN WHO 
 
 cause for apprehension, for was not Jacques the Black- 
 smith the chief instigator of the riot ? 
 
 It was probable, he argued, that this fanatic had 
 discovered the deception he had played upon him on 
 the day the Convention had denounced him, and that 
 he had organized a party of his adherents to rescue him, 
 in order to wreak a private vengeance upon his de- 
 ceiver. That the man was capable of such a daring 
 act he well knew. 
 
 Faster and faster sped the tumbril, jolting over the 
 rough pavement with such a clatter that the entire 
 street was awakened. Windows flew open and heads 
 were thrust out to ascertain the cause of the tumult; 
 while shouts and cries of amazement arose from a 
 thousand spectators, on seeing the death-cart dash by. 
 
 Louvet turned angrily to the driver. 
 
 "What is the meaning of this ?" he asked sternly. 
 
 "Be silent!" was the growling response. "You are 
 in the hands of friends who wish to save you. Let 
 that be sufficient !" 
 
 It seemed to him that he had heard that voice before ; 
 but he could not remember where. There was some- 
 thing in the man's figure that seemed familiar also, 
 although this was probably a mere fancy. Presently 
 the driver growled back at him this bit of advice : 
 
 "Tell your friends to cease their bawling, or I'll 
 dump them out into the street." 
 
 Louvet complied with this command immediately, 
 and, by adding a few encouraging words of his own, 
 succeeded in quieting the terrified prisoners. 
 
 After proceeding at a rapid pace for some distance,
 
 WITHIN SIGHT OF THE GUILLOTINE. 265 
 
 the driver wheeled into a winding street, which Louvet 
 recognized at once as the ancient thoroughfare on 
 which stood the Maison Rousseau. 
 
 Then it dawned upon him suddenly that his agents 
 had conspired for his rescue. He was so sure of this 
 that he again bent forward toward the driver and whis- 
 pered :* 
 
 "Who are you? Your Chief commands you to an- 
 swer!" 
 
 The man turned partly around, and muttered: 
 
 "I am known as Simon the Jailer." 
 
 Louvet was completely dumfounded; for, although 
 he was aware of the fidelity of his followers, he did 
 not think them capable of such supreme daring. 
 
 How had they managed to incite a riot in his behalf? 
 And Jacques the Blacksmith how had they induced 
 such a rabid idolater of Robespierre to assist them in 
 their scheme? 
 
 While he was endeavoring to find an answer to these 
 questions, the tumbril turned into the narrow lane 
 which led to the garden in the rear of Dr. Narbonne's 
 residence. On reaching the enclosure, the driver reined 
 in his horses, and, leaping to the ground, beckoned 
 Jean Louvet to approach him. 
 
 "You know as well as I, Chief," he said, when they 
 were alone, "that it will be impossible to admit all these 
 strangers into our hiding-place. Not only is it against 
 
 * That a tumbril on ^its way to the Place de la Revolution 
 was rescued by the populace, on the ninth of Thermidor (the 
 day of Robespierre's downfall), is an historical fact accepted by 
 many historians.
 
 266 THE MAN WHO DARfcD. 
 
 the rules of our band to do this, but it would be, in 
 this case, an act of positive folly. Please remember 
 we have imperiled our lives to save you, and no one 
 else." 
 
 Louvet turned away from him disdainfully. 
 
 "In that case," he said, "you risked your lives in 
 vain. I will return to my friends at once; for, rather 
 than abandon them, I will perish in their company." 
 
 And he started to return to the tumbril. 
 
 "One moment!" cried Simon, anxiously, on per- 
 ceiving his Chief's determination. "Can these com- 
 rades of yours be trusted ?" 
 
 "I will answer for them with my life!" exclaimed 
 Louvet with an imperious gesture. 
 
 "In that case," said Simon the Jailer, "I have noth- 
 ing further to say against their admission." 
 
 With these words, he returned with Louvet to the 
 tumbril, and assisted the prisoners to the ground. Then 
 he helped them over the wall into the garden, and left 
 them in charge of his Chief ; for it was a matter of im- 
 portance to their safety that he should drive off with 
 the death-cart at once. 
 
 Scarcely had he taken his departure, when Jean 
 Louvet beckoned the prisoners to follow, and led them 
 to the secret door in the rear of the Maison Rousseau. 
 His summons for admittance was immediately an- 
 swered. 
 
 When the door had closed behind them, and he real- 
 ized that his friends were out of danger, his joy was 
 too great for him to bear. 
 
 "Saved at last ! Saved !" he cried, in an ecstasy ; then 
 broke out into a wild paroxysm of sobs.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 THE GAME STILL DOUBTFUL. 
 
 SAVED ? 
 
 Undoubtedly Jean Lou vet was justified in so be- 
 lieving; and yet his work was by no means finished. 
 
 He had seen the despotic Robespierre pass by him 
 on his way to prison. He had heard the mad outcries 
 of the people, as they hurled curses and maledictions 
 upon his head; nevertheless, he had not taken into 
 consideration that the tyrant had many powerful 
 friends still at large who would certainly exert their 
 utmost efforts to save him. Among these may be 
 mentioned the Mayor of Paris, General Henriot, the 
 Commander of the National Guards, and the entire 
 Club of Jacobins who idolized him to a man. 
 
 In fact, even while Robespierre was on his way to 
 the Luxembourg, these friends were taking active 
 measures to incite an insurrection on behalf of the 
 despot and his associates. Jacobin orators were des- 
 patched in all directions to arouse the populace by 
 impassioned speeches. Henriot, followed by a troop 
 of Municipal Gendarmes, galloped along the quais, 
 calling upon everyone to join him in rescuing the pris- 
 oners. The Commune of Paris was sitting in the 
 Hotel de Ville, deliberating in open rebellion to the 
 
 [267]
 
 tHE MAN \Vtf6 t)ARKt>. 
 
 government, and finally issuing, as if authorized to do 
 so, the following proclamation to the citizens : 
 
 "Brothers and friends ! The country is in imminent 
 danger! The wicked have mastered the Convention, 
 where they hold in chains the virtuous Robespierre. 
 To arms ! To arms ! Let us not lose the fruits of the 
 eighteenth of August and the second of July." 
 
 Half maddened with drink, Henriot continued his 
 furious course from street to street, and, at last, gal- 
 loped to the Luxembourg to rescue his friends. On 
 the way he encountered the troops of the Convention, 
 who seized him, bound him with their belts, and threw 
 him into a guard-house dead drunk. 
 
 Meanwhile, Robespierre and his associates had been 
 rescued by the mob, and carried in triumph to the 
 Mayor's room in the Hotel de Ville. 
 
 While these events were transpiring in the heart of 
 Paris, Jean Louvet and his friends were resting in 
 fancied security in the Maison Rousseau. One of his 
 agents having arrived with intelligence that the 
 National Convention, exhausted with the day's battle, 
 had adjourned at five o'clock, for repose and suste- 
 nance, he naturally inferred that Robespierre's en- 
 emies had gained a complete victory, and that there 
 was no longer the least cause for anxiety. 
 
 Louise and her maid had retired with the little girl 
 to sleep; the other rescued prisoners were sitting to- 
 gether in a large apartment assigned to them, ques- 
 tioning one another and indulging in the wildest 
 conjectures regarding their marvelous escape; while 
 Louvet, M. Vauban and Dr. Narbonne were closeted
 
 THE GAME STILL DOUBTFUL. 269 
 
 together in the latter's study, endeavoring to formulate 
 a practicable scheme to enable the late prisoners to re- 
 tire from Paris until the times became more settled. 
 
 Suddenly the dismal tolling of the tocsin burst forth 
 from the neighboring steeples, and the rolling of 
 drums disturbed the quiet of the summer evening. 
 Shortly afterwards a low, ominous murmur arose from 
 every narrow lane and street of St. Antoine, gradually 
 increasing in volume, until there was no mistaking its 
 significance. At last the sounds could be heard ap- 
 proaching their place of refuge, drawing nearer and 
 nearer and filling the hearts of the listeners with 
 dismay. 
 
 "What means this clamor?" asked Vauban anx- 
 iously. 
 
 " Tis an insurrection of the masses," returned 
 Louvet. 
 
 "For what purpose ?" 
 
 "Probably to make a demonstration against Robes- 
 pierre," was the answer. 
 
 These confident words were rudely interrupted 
 by the sudden entrance of Frangois the Idler. 
 He came bursting into the study, pallid with alarm, 
 and, utterly regardless of all ceremony, cried out in 
 tones of frenzy : 
 
 "Oh, may God have mercy upon us! Robespierre 
 has triumphed, and we are lost !" 
 
 Then he sank down panting into an armchair. 
 
 The shock produced by such unexpected tidings had 
 a paralyzing effect on Jean Louvet ; nor was it until the 
 wild tumult of the mob, who were now passing beneath
 
 2/0 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 the windows, roared in his ears, that he regained full 
 possession of his faculties. 
 
 "Vive Robespierre! Down with the Convention!" 
 
 These, and similar cries aroused him to a realization 
 of the true state of affairs, and turning to Frangois he 
 asked quickly: 
 
 "How has Robespierre triumphed?" 
 
 "Through the instrumentality of friends, and his 
 popularity with the masses." 
 
 "But most of his friends were condemned with him, 
 and the populace are only now rallying to his sup- 
 port." 
 
 "Nevertheless, the tyrant and his associates are 
 at large." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Louvet in alarm. "Do you 
 mean to say that Robespierre has escaped from 
 prison?" 
 
 "As far as Robespierre is concerned, he never was 
 in prison. When he arrived at the Luxembourg, the 
 jailer refused to receive him. As regards his asso- 
 ciates, they were rescued by the populace at the insti- 
 gation of the Jacobins." 
 
 "And where is Robespierre now?" 
 
 "Sitting in the Hotel de Ville, surrounded by his 
 friends, planning the recovery of his power." 
 
 "But the Convention ?" cried Louvet eagerly. 
 
 "Its members have just returned to the hall, where 
 they are now in session, speechless and powerless 
 with terror." 
 
 Jean Louvet rose instantly from his chair, and hur- 
 ried into his apartment, to return shortly afterwards
 
 THE GAME STILL DOUBTFUL. 271 
 
 attired as a Representative of the people. He in- 
 structed Francois to remain in the house to take his 
 place in case of need; then, embracing his friends, 
 departed to participate in the political struggle. 
 
 On reaching the Convention Hall, he found it sur- 
 rounded by a howling mob, and it was with the utmost 
 difficulty that he succeeded in gaining admittance. 
 Notwithstanding that he was an outlaw, under sentence 
 of death by the Convention, his appearance was 
 greeted with expressions of joy from its members. 
 Walking quickly down the aisle, he took his place in 
 his former seat. Then he began to scrutinize the 
 faces around him. 
 
 Every countenance was deadly white ; every lip was 
 quivering with fear. It was apparent that the Rep- 
 resentatives, who had triumphed through firmness in 
 the morning, were on the verge of meeting defeat 
 through their cowardice now. Indeed at this stage of 
 the tragedy, two governments were contending for 
 the mastery Robespierre, with the populace at his dis- 
 posal, on one side; the Convention, with its friends, 
 on the other. 
 
 Aware that the mob was aroused to fury, and that 
 the National Guard, under Henriot, were marching 
 against the Convention Hall, the Representatives were 
 appalled at their danger; for they realized that the 
 Revolutionary Tribunal, which alone could condemn 
 the despot, might, through fear of the people, acquit 
 him by acclamation. If this thing should happen, 
 Robespierre would be led back in triumph to the Con-
 
 272 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 vention and would immediately send his opponents 
 to the guillotine. 
 
 vSmall wonder that, in view of this peril, the Rep- 
 resentatives trembled in their seats; for the most 
 ominous warnings reached their ears from time to 
 time. Messengers brought them word that the Ja- 
 cobin Club had met, and taken an oath to live or die 
 with Robespierre. 
 
 Again it was reported that the masses were crowd- 
 ing in from the Faubourgs, and that three thousand 
 young students had risen in arms as a body-guard for 
 the despot. To add further to their dismay, the tocsin 
 resounded far and near, calling upon the people to 
 defend the man whom their Representatives had ac- 
 cused. 
 
 In this terrible crisis, the Convention, nerved by 
 despair, remained firmly in their seats, well knowing 
 that boldness alone could save them from destruction. 
 
 "Here is our post of duty, and here we will die!" 
 they declared; while their friends rushed forth to 
 rally defenders for the law.* 
 
 On hearing this noble resolve, Jean Louvet called 
 loudly for a hearing, and President Collot who was 
 presiding, willingly granted it. 
 
 "We have all sworn to die at our posts," shouted 
 Louvet in vibrant tones. "But that is no reason why 
 we should not resist unto the end. I have a measure 
 to propose which may possibly save us from destruc- 
 tion." Then, casting a sweeping glance that embraced 
 all present, he added "May I propose it, citizens?" 
 
 * Abbott's French Revolution.
 
 THE GAME STILL DOUBTFUL. 2/3 
 
 "Proceed ! We are listening !" they replied, 
 
 Jean Louvet bowed his thanks and resumed : 
 
 "In view of the danger that threatens the Republic, 
 I move that Robespierre and his partisans be declared 
 outlaws, and that all who support him in his rebellion, 
 be outlawed as well." 
 
 Having delivered himself of these words, he quietly 
 sank back into his seat, and awaited the impression 
 his proposition had made upon the Convention. 
 
 For several seconds not a sound broke the silence. 
 
 Then a spontaneous burst of approval shook the 
 hall. Not only was Robespierre outlawed, but a num- 
 ber of his supporters as well, among them, Henriot, 
 who was at that moment threatening the Convention 
 Hall with his troops. This brutal wretch, having slept 
 off a first debauch in the guardhouse, had been rescued 
 by Judge Coffinhal, Vice-President of the Revolution- 
 ary Tribunal. Returning immediately to his soldiers, 
 and again drinking himself into a state of intoxication, 
 he marched boldly to the Convention Hall, and or- 
 dered the doors blown open with his artillery. 
 
 At this critical moment, Jean Louvet left the hall, 
 with several other Representatives close behind him. 
 On reaching the street outside, he ran quickly toward 
 the cannon, and took a position directly in front of 
 the artillerymen. 
 
 "Stand aside, if you value your life! Don't you 
 see we are about to fire ?" 
 
 And one of the gunners approached his cannon with 
 a lighted match,
 
 274 THE MAN "\VIIO DARED. 
 
 Jean Louvet regarded him fearlessly. 
 
 "One moment, my brave fellow !" he said. 
 
 Then, seeing that the other hesitated, he broke out 
 scornfully : 
 
 "Soldiers! Look at that drunken man!" here he 
 pointed dramatically at Henriot "Who but a drunk- 
 ard would ever point his arms against his country, or 
 its Representatives? Will you, who have ever de- 
 served so much from your country, cast shame and 
 dishonor on her now?" 
 
 The soldiers began to waver. 
 
 Henriot instantly lost his courage, put spurs to his 
 horse and galloped furiously toward the Hotel de 
 Ville. The Convention, in the meantime, having ap- 
 pointed Barras to the command of the National 
 Guards, he strode forth and accepted the responsibility 
 without hesitation. 
 
 Thus was the tide of affairs turned suddenly in favor 
 of the Convention. 
 
 Marching rapidly through the streets of Paris, 
 Barras rallied the citizens around him, and, having 
 dispersed several bands of Robespierre's supporters, 
 proceeded to the Hotel de Ville, where the outlaw was 
 then holding court. 
 
 During the time since he had regained his liberty, 
 he was repeatedly urged to authorize an insurrection, 
 in order to accomplish a signal triumph over the Con- 
 vention; yet, notwithstanding the most urgent en- 
 treaties of the Jacobins and the Municipal Govern- 
 ment, he had persistently refused to encourage or to 
 accept such lawless means.
 
 THE GAME STILL DOUBTFUL, 2/5 
 
 "I am resolved," he replied, heroically, "either to 
 triumph or fall by submission to the law only. I firmly 
 helieve the Revolutionary Tribunal will acquit me. 
 But," he added calmly, "if they should decide to con- 
 demn me to death, the death of one just man is less 
 hurtful to the Republic than the example of a revolt 
 against the National Convention."* 
 
 Were these words spoken in sincerity; or were they 
 uttered hypocritically in full confidence of his ultimate 
 triumph ? 
 
 These questions have remained unanswered. 
 
 The scene that followed the appearance of Barras 
 before the Hotel de Ville is too well known to be 
 repeated here in detail. As the soldiers were ascend- 
 ing the stairs, Lebas committed suicide by shooting 
 himself through the heart. Augustin Robespierre 
 leaped from a window into a courtyard below, break- 
 ing his leg. Coffinhal, enraged in contemplating the 
 ruin in which the drunken imbecility of Henriot had 
 involved them, deliberately threw him out df the 
 window on a pile of rubbish below. 
 
 Meanwhile, Robespierre sat calmly at a table await- 
 ing his fate. One of the gendarmes sent to arrest him, 
 discharged a pistol at his head, fracturing his jaw, and 
 carrying away several of his teeth. His head dropped 
 upon the table, deluging the papers before him with 
 blood. 
 
 The troops of the Convention now filled the rooms 
 of the Hotel de Ville, arresting all its inmates. Beside 
 
 * Lamar(ine.
 
 2/6 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Robespierre and his friends, over eighty members of 
 the Municipal Government, bound two by two to- 
 gether, completed the melancholy procession to the 
 Conciergerie.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE GAME IS WON. 
 
 JEAN LOUVET did not return to the Maison Rous- 
 seau that night. 
 
 In fact, he did not dare to do so ; for the entire city 
 was in an uproar, and a man as all-powerful as Robes- 
 pierre had been, might again turn the tide of battle 
 in his own favor. Through the dark streets the gleam 
 of innumerable torches was reflected, throwing a lurid 
 light upon the multitudes of insurrectionists who had 
 come in from the Faubourgs to the assistance of the 
 despot and his friends. 
 
 Several of these bands marched in disorder to dis- 
 perse the Convention ; but, on finding the hall strongly 
 guarded by soldiers, departed elsewhere to join other 
 bands and seek direction under a suitable leader. In 
 the meantime, the friends of the Convention were busy 
 in representing the exact state of affairs to the people, 
 and were so far successful, that, before the dawn of 
 another day, the fickle Parisians were seduced from 
 their allegiance to Robespierre, and had become his 
 most envenomed enemies. 
 
 About five o'clock in the morning, of the tenth of 
 Thermidor (28th of July), Jean Lou vet found him- 
 self in the vast crowd that had gathered before the 
 
 [277]
 
 2/8 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Conciergerie Prison, to await the coming forth of 
 Robespierre and his partisans. 
 
 His patience was not put to a severe test, however ; 
 for, shortly after his arrival, the iron gate of the 
 prison was opened, and the prisoners were led forth 
 to take their places in the waiting tumbrils. A pro- 
 found silence was maintained, until the despot 
 emerged through the gateway, stretched upon a litter, 
 borne by four jailers. His fractured jaw was bound 
 up by a dirty handkerchief, steeped in blood. 
 
 After him came Couthon, a paralytic. Unable to 
 walk he was carried in the arms of two jailers. Robes- 
 pierre, the younger, still insensible from his desperate 
 leap from the window, was conveyed in the arms of two 
 others, with his broken limb hanging helplessly down, 
 and trailing along the ground. Next came the corpse 
 of Lebas, covered with a tablecloth spotted with his 
 blood. In the rear of this frightful procession 
 marched St. Just, bareheaded, with dejected coun- 
 tenance, his hands bound tightly behind him. 
 
 At the sight of these unhappy men the crowd broke 
 forth into the most furious outcries. Against Robes- 
 pierre in particular the people vented their rage. He 
 cast reproachful glances upon them as he was lifted 
 into a tumbril; but never uttered one word in ex- 
 tenuation of his acts. 
 
 On reaching the Tuileries, he was laid upon a table 
 in an ante-room, where he was submitted to the most 
 frightful mental tortures. An interminable crowd 
 pressed into the apartment past the guards, actuated 
 by a morbid curiosity to catch a glimpse of the fallen
 
 THE GAME is WON. 279 
 
 dictator. Men and women surged around him, like the 
 waves of the sea, overwhelming' him with reproaches, 
 curses and insults. 
 
 In the extremity of his anguish, Robespierre feigned 
 death, hoping by this means to escape the execrations 
 of his tormentors.* 
 
 When Louvet arrived at the Tuileries, and beheld 
 the agony of his enemy, tears of pity welled up in his 
 eyes. The blood was flowing freely from the despot's 
 fractured jaw, trickling down his throat and choking 
 him. The day was intensely hot, and the suffering 
 wretch was tormented with an insatiable thirst that 
 parched his feverish lips. 
 
 Thus did the author of so much suffering to others, 
 remain for more than an hour, enduring the most ex- 
 cruciating pangs of bodily and mental anguish. 
 
 At the expiration of this period, he and his con- 
 federates were removed to the chamber of the Com- 
 mittee of General Safety for examination; then back 
 to the Conciergerie to endure a few additional hours 
 of suffering; finally before that merciless Tribunal 
 which was but the last stepping stone to death. Their 
 trial lasted but a few moments ; for, as they were al- 
 ready outlawed and condemned, it was merely neces- 
 sary to establish their identity. 
 
 At five o'clock in the afternoon, Jean Louvet was 
 standing on the steps of a building, fronting the Place 
 de la Revolution, awaiting the final act in the stupen- 
 dous drama he had set in motion. Not far from his 
 elevated position rose the frightful scaffold of the guil- 
 * Abbott's French Revolution.
 
 280 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 lotine. Samson, the executioner, was pacing from side 
 to side of the platform, his arms bared and crossed 
 upon his brawny chest, and a filthy red cap pulled 
 down over his eyes, half concealing his ferocious coun- 
 tenance. At intervals he paused in his walk to glance 
 down upon the crowd below, or exchange a merry jest 
 with some friend he recognized. 
 
 Never before had Louvet seen such a vast multitude 
 of people as that which now surged around the guil-" 
 lotine. It seemed that Paris had vomited forth, from 
 all her slums and purlieus, the most abandoned and 
 wicked of her children wretches who lived by crime, 
 violence and insurrection. 
 
 Every window in the neighboring houses, that com- 
 manded an unobstructed view of the engine of death, 
 was filled with expectant faces. The fortunate citizens 
 who had secured such advantageous positions, shouted 
 scoffingly at the multitude below, while the ragged 
 wretches, who composed the throng, returned their 
 jests with outbursts of jovial laughter. 
 
 Suddenly the sound of an approaching tumult 
 reached the crowded square, and every voice was 
 hushed in an instant. 
 
 It was apparent that the long looked-for procession 
 was approaching. In a few minutes a body of mounted 
 troops appeared in the Place de la Revolution, and 
 began making a passage to the guillotine by striking 
 the people with the flat of their sabres, and forcing 
 them back. They were quickly followed by the death 
 carts bearing Robespierre and his partisans. 
 
 On beholding the condemned, the fickle crowd burst
 
 THE GAME IS WON. 28 1 
 
 out into a terrific uproar, surging round the tumbril 
 occupied by Robespierre, and heaping imprecations 
 upon the defeated man, to whom they would have 
 shouted hosannas had be been the victor. From his 
 coign of vantage, Jean Louvet beheld the entrance of 
 his enemy into the square. The tyrant, his brother, 
 Couthon, Henriot, all mangled, bleeding and with 
 broken bones, were in the first cart, with the corpse 
 of Lebas. As it jolted over the uneven pavement, 
 shrieks of anguish arose from the wounded victims. 
 
 "May God have mercy upon them !" exclaimed Lou- 
 vet in tones of sympathy. "They are enduring the 
 sufferings of the damned." 
 
 Just as the first tumbril reached the steps of the guil- 
 lotine, a clock in a steeple near by, struck six. 
 
 Then the following events happened with marvelous 
 rapidity. 
 
 Robespierre was lifted from the death cart, and 
 conducted to the steps leading to the engine of death. 
 He ascended the scaffold with a firm, quick step. 
 
 Was it feared that at the last moment he might call 
 upon the populace to rescue him ? 
 
 If he had such an intention, he was not granted the 
 time to carry it out ; for, no sooner had he reached the 
 platform, than the executioner sprang forward, and 
 brutally tore the bloody bandage from his wound. 
 
 Jean Louvet, yyhose eyes were still fixed upon him, 
 beheld his fractured jaw drop down in a ghastly man- 
 ner, and at the same time heard a shriek of frightful 
 agony. 
 
 He turned away in horror from the scene.
 
 282 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 Then he heard the sullen sound of the falling axe, 
 and, when he again looked toward the scaffold, the 
 head of the great Robespierre had fallen into the 
 basket. 
 
 Thus died Maximilian Robespierre in the thirty- 
 fifth year of his age; a man whose real character 
 must ever remain shadowy and undefined. 
 
 To the refugees in the Maison Rousseau, his death 
 meant the end of sufferings. M. Vauban had another 
 trial which resulted in his complete vindication, and 
 his reinstatement in his seat in the Convention. 
 
 As for Jean Louvet, he resigned from that body 
 despite the protests of the men he had saved from 
 death, while Dr. Narbonne and his patients disap- 
 peared from the Maison Rousseau and left Paris. It 
 is said, however, that they returned to the city when 
 the emigres were recalled by Napoleon. 
 
 "My beloved Jean," asked Louise Vauban on the 
 day before their wedding, "I have long suspected that 
 you are not what you seem. Tell me, is your name 
 really Jean Louvet ?" 
 
 The young man smiled. 
 
 "I perceive how it is," he answered; "you believe 
 it wrong for a husband to have any secrets from his 
 wife. And you are right." Placing his arm affection- 
 ately round her waist, he added softly, "No, Louise, 
 my real name is not Jean Louvet." 
 
 "Then what is it, dearest?"
 
 THE GAME IS WON. 283 
 
 "Will you promise not to denounce me, if I tell 
 you?" 
 
 "How absurd you are," she murmured. "You know 
 very well I'll not denounce you." 
 
 "Well, in that case, I will tell you my secret," he 
 said with a happy laugh. "Know, my dearest Louise, 
 that I am the Duke of Lamorelle, an aristocrat and 
 royalist to the heart's core." 
 
 The girl's cheeks glowed with pleasure, for she was 
 not half the staunch republican that she seemed. 
 
 "And Dr. Narbonne and his mysterious patients, 
 who are they?" 
 
 "All men of noble birth like myself," was the reply. 
 
 "But Simon, Andre and Frangois?" 
 
 "They also are titled personages." 
 
 Then he told her how they had elected him as their 
 Chief, and had come to Paris to act as secret agents 
 for the exiled royal family. 
 
 "And, dearest," he concluded fervently, "we must 
 be forever grateful to those three brave men; for it 
 was they who incited the riot that saved our lives. It 
 was Simon, Andre and Frangois who rescued us from 
 the guillotine." 
 
 "It all seems so wonderful," she said after a pause. 
 "I cannot imagine how they accomplished it." 
 
 "It was Frangois' idea," was the Duke of Lamo- 
 relle's reply. "You see, he had artfully converted a 
 fellow, who is known as Jacques the Blacksmith, into 
 a bitter enemy of Robespierre, and consequently into 
 a friend of mine. This man was easily persuaded to 
 surround our tumbril with his followers, and hold the
 
 284 THE MAN WHO DARED. 
 
 guards in check, until we had effected our escape. In 
 the meantime, our good friend, Simon, had bribed 
 the driver of one of the tumbrils to allow him to change 
 places with him for that day. On reaching the Con- 
 ciergerie, he fell in with the friendly jailer, and bribed 
 him to conduct us to his cart. Andre and another of 
 my band were the masked men who intimidated the 
 guards in charge of our tumbril. It was a daring and 
 clever plot, was it not ?" 
 
 "Yes ; but not half so daring as the game of politics 
 yo/u won against the tyrant Robespierre," replied 
 Louise, gazing up at him admiringly. 
 
 THE END.
 
 685036 6