s in
quick succession. It was said that the National Guard was coming with
artillery, to direct it against the hall. The roar of the insurrection
filled street and building. For the time it looked as if Robespierre had
conquered, and all was at an end.

"I propose," cried Elie Lacoste, "that Henriot be outlawed."

As he spoke these words, the man named stood in the street without,
ordering the artillerists, whose cannon were trained upon the Convention
hall, to fire. The gunners hesitated. It was a critical moment. The fate
of France hung in the balance. A group of the deputies came hastily from
the hall and faced Henriot and his men.

"What are you doing, soldiers?" they exclaimed. "That man is a rebel,
who has just been outlawed."

The gunners lowered their matches. The Convention was saved. The
National Guard had deserted Robespierre. Henriot put spurs to his horse,
and fled at full gallop.

"Outlaw all who shall take arms against the Convention, or who shall
oppose its decrees," said Barere; "as well as those who have defied it
by eluding arrest."

This decree, repeated to the insurgents, completed their discomfiture.
Rapidly they dispersed. Public opinion had changed; the Convention had
triumphed. The gunners who had marched with the insurrection deserted
their pieces; and a few hours afterwards returned to them, to protect
the Convention.

The members of the Convention had run a serious risk in not taking
active steps to assemble their friends, and in thus giving so perilous
an opportunity to their enemies. This error was now retrieved; a section
of their supporters came together, commanded by Leonard Bourdon and a
gendarme named Meda. They reached the Hotel de Ville without opposition.
Meda entered it, crying, probably as a strategem, "Long live
Robespierre!" He reached the hall where the Jacobin leaders were
gathered in silent dismay around the fallen dictator. Robespierre sat at
a table, his head resting on his hand. Meda stepped towards him, pistols
in hand.

"Surrender, traitor!" he exclaimed.

"It is you who are a traitor," retorted Robespierre, "and I will have
you shot."

His words were barely spoken when Meda fired, his bullet shattering
Robespierre's lower jaw. It is well to state here, however, that in the
belief of many Robespierre shot himself.

This decided action created consternation in the room. The younger
Robespierre leaped from a window, receiving mortal injury from the fall.
Sa