e herald of your own. Fear not the populace,--the populace would
have rescued your servant. Fear not Robespierre,--he gives himself to
your hands. To-morrow he comes to the Convention,--to-morrow you must
cast the last throw for his head or your own."

"To-morrow he comes to the Convention! And who are you that know so well
what is concealed from me?"

"A man like you, who would save the woman he loves."

Before Tallien could recover his surprise, the visitor was gone.

Back went the Avenger to his conclave an altered man. "I have heard
tidings,--no matter what," he cried,--"that have changed my purpose.
On the 10th we are destined to the guillotine. I revoke my counsel for
delay. Robespierre comes to the Convention to-morrow; THERE we must
confront and crush him. From the Mountain shall frown against him
the grim shade of Danton,--from the Plain shall rise, in their bloody
cerements, the spectres of Vergniaud and Condorcet. Frappons!"

"Frappons!" cried even Barrere, startled into energy by the new daring
of his colleague,--"frappons! il n'y a que les morts qui ne reviennent
pas."

It was observable (and the fact may be found in one of the memoirs
of the time) that, during that day and night (the 7th Thermidor), a
stranger to all the previous events of that stormy time was seen in
various parts of the city,--in the cafes, the clubs, the haunts of the
various factions; that, to the astonishment and dismay of his hearers,
he talked aloud of the crimes of Robespierre, and predicted his coming
fall; and, as he spoke, he stirred up the hearts of men, he loosed the
bonds of their fear,--he inflamed them with unwonted rage and daring.
But what surprised them most was, that no voice replied, no hand was
lifted against him, no minion, even of the tyrant, cried, "Arrest the
traitor." In that impunity men read, as in a book, that the populace had
deserted the man of blood.

Once only a fierce, brawny Jacobin sprang up from the table at which he
sat, drinking deep, and, approaching the stranger, said, "I seize thee,
in the name of the Republic."

"Citizen Aristides," answered the stranger, in a whisper, "go to the
lodgings of Robespierre,--he is from home; and in the left pocket of the
vest which he cast off not an hour since thou wilt find a paper; when
thou hast read that, return. I will await thee; and if thou wouldst then
seize me, I will go without a struggle. Look round on those lowering
brows; touch me NOW, and tho