"the manager of this theatre and mayhap his leading
actor and actress will spend an unpleasant day to-morrow."

"Always Heron!" said St. Just, with a contemptuous smile.

"Yes, my friend," rejoined the other imperturbably, "always Heron. And
he has even obtained a longer lease of existence this afternoon."

"By the new decree?"

"Yes. The new decree. The agents of the Committee of General Security,
of whom Heron is the chief, have from to-day powers of domiciliary
search; they have full powers to proceed against all enemies of
public welfare. Isn't that beautifully vague? And they have absolute
discretion; every one may become an enemy of public welfare, either by
spending too much money or by spending too little, by laughing to-day
or crying to-morrow, by mourning for one dead relative or rejoicing over
the execution of another. He may be a bad example to the public by
the cleanliness of his person or by the filth upon his clothes, he may
offend by walking to-day and by riding in a carriage next week; the
agents of the Committee of General Security shall alone decide what
constitutes enmity against public welfare. All prisons are to be opened
at their bidding to receive those whom they choose to denounce; they
have henceforth the right to examine prisoners privately and without
witnesses, and to send them to trial without further warrants; their
duty is clear--they must 'beat up game for the guillotine.' Thus is the
decree worded; they must furnish the Public Prosecutor with work to do,
the tribunals with victims to condemn, the Place de la Revolution
with death-scenes to amuse the people, and for their work they will
be rewarded thirty-five livres for every head that falls under the
guillotine Ah! if Heron and his like and his myrmidons work hard and
well they can make a comfortable income of four or five thousand livres
a week. We are getting on, friend St. Just--we are getting on."

He had not raised his voice while he spoke, nor in the recounting of
such inhuman monstrosity, such vile and bloodthirsty conspiracy against
the liberty, the dignity, the very life of an entire nation, did he
appear to feel the slightest indignation; rather did a tone of amusement
and even of triumph strike through his speech; and now he laughed
good-humouredly like an indulgent parent who is watching the naturally
cruel antics of a spoilt boy.

"Then from this hell let loose upon earth," exclaimed St. Just hotly,
"must we rescue