them. Henriot, arrested for a moment, and conducted to the Committee of
General Security, had been delivered by Coffinhal at the head of a
handful of men. He was again on horseback, and was menacing in the hall
of their sittings the Assembly, which had again come together.

The tocsin rang forth a full peal; the gates of Paris were closed. The
rising tumult of the insurrection reached the ears of the deputies; each
minute some inauspicious news arrived. It was said that the gunners of
the National Guard, seduced by Henriot, were coming to direct their
artillery against the palace. Collot d'Herbois mounted slowly to the
chair and seated himself there. "Representatives," said he, with a firm
voice, "the moment has come for us to die at our posts; miscreants have
invaded the National palace." All had taken their places; while the
spectators fled from the galleries with uproar and confusion. "I
propose," said Elie Lacoste with a loud voice, "that Henriot be
outlawed." At the same moment the dismissed commandant ordered his men
to fire.

Fearful and troubled, the gunners still hesitated. A group of
representatives went forth from the hall and cried, "What are you doing,
soldiers? That man is a rebel, who has just been outlawed." The gunners
had already lowered their matches, while Henriot fled at full gallop.
Barras had just been named commandant of the forces in his place; seven
representatives accompanied him. "Outlaw all those who shall take arms
against the Convention or who shall oppose its decrees," said Barere;
"as well as those who are eluding a decree of accusation or arrest." The
decree was voted; an officer of the Convention boldly accepted the duty
of bearing it to the Commune. The National agent, Payan, seized it from
him, and for bravado read it with a loud voice before the crowd that was
thronging in the hall of the Hotel de Ville. He added these words which
were not in the decree, "and all those found at this moment in the
galleries." The spectators disappeared as if struck with terror at the
name of the law. Times were changed. The mobile waves of public opinion
no longer upheld the tyrants overthrown by the accomplices who had now
become their enemies.

It was, without saying it, and possibly without knowing it, the feeling
of this public abandonment and reprobation which paralyzed the energy of
the five accused. Robespierre had arrived pale and trembling in all his
limbs; he had been tranquillized with