In
the present confusion of prisoners pouring in every day for
trial, and prisoners pouring out every day for execution, you
will have the best possible chance of security against awkward
inquiries, if you play your cards properly, for a good fortnight
or ten days at least. In that time--"
"Well! well!" cried Trudaine, eagerly.
Lomaque looked toward the tribunal door, and lowered his voice to
a fainter whisper before he continued, "In that time
Robespierre's own head may fall into the sack! France is
beginning to sicken under the Reign of Terror. Frenchmen of the
Moderate faction, who have lain hidden for months in cellars and
lofts, are beginning to steal out and deliberate by twos and
threes together, under cover of the night. Robespierre has not
ventured for weeks past to face the Convention Committee. He only
speaks among his own friends at the Jacobins. There are rumors of
a terrible discovery made by Carnot, of a desperate resolution
taken by Tallien. Men watching behind the scenes see that the
last days of the Terror are at hand. If Robespierre is beaten in
the approaching struggle, you are saved--for the new reign must
be a Reign of Mercy. If he conquers, I have only put off the date
of your death and your sister's, and have laid my own neck under
the axe. Those are your chances--this is all I can do."
He paused, and Trudaine again endeavored to speak such words as
might show that he was not unworthy of the deadly risk which
Lomaque was prepared to encounter.
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