“In that case,” replied the incorrigible railer, “I have a chance, if they take me, of growing ugly. You haven’t.”
Here the laughter broke out irresistibly, and as it arose from Camille’s side, he may be fairly said to have gained the victory.
Marat descended, furiously shaking his fist.
“Return to thy cave, night-bird! Go back to thy hole, hyena! Sneak into thy nest, viper!” murmured Danton, with a look of ineffable disdain. But Danton’s murmurs were like thunder; every one heard them.
When Marat left, all joined in brotherly communion, his presence having alone restrained them hitherto.
M. Jean Baptiste knew Danton, and went to shake hands with him, and to compliment Camille Desmoulins.
I could not turn my eyes from the face of the ex-advocate, that terrible blind man whom Providence had given to guide the revolution.
I shall have occasion to speak again of him, and to show what sensibility of heart was hidden beneath that rough exterior.
We left the club at midnight, and returned to the “Hotel des Postes,” Rue Grange Batélière.
At daybreak on the morrow we had to be under arms.