Then succeeded such tumultuous uproar of men shrieking their names with all their force, that one could scarcely distinguish those of Renouard, Lagarde, Moreau, Henriot, Laschereau, and David.
When this tempestuous noise ceased, the man named Weder had disappeared.
“M. Robert,” said I to him who had offered to frame the text of the petition, “I have some business in yonder café, where I fancy I can distinguish some of my friends, whence I will proceed to the nearest stationer’s, and bring you back everything that is necessary for writing purposes.” Then I added to M. Duplay, “Follow me with your eyes, sir; and if, as I believe, those are the ladies we are in search of, I will make you a sign with my pocket-handkerchief.”
As I had fancied, it was Madame Duplay and her daughters. I told them where I had left M. Duplay, and asked them to go and meet him at the altar of the country. I then proceeded to the stationer’s, and bought two or three sheets of paper, knowing very well that if even there was only one sheet required for the petition itself, there would be one hundred or one hundred and fifty signatures. I also bought a bottle of ink and a packet of pens already cut.
When returning, I met with M. Duplay and his family. This gentleman, fearing some serious disorder, was taking his family home by the nearest road—that is to say, by the Invalides. Before separating with him, though, I promised that if anything grave took place, I would return with a full account to the house.
I now hastened to the altar, where I was impatiently awaited.
I have already mentioned the names of Robert and Mademoiselle Keralio. Notwithstanding how well posted we are at the present moment in the history of the Revolution, very few persons are acquainted with the very prominent part taken by these two persons in the proceedings of that terrible day, the 17th of July, which killed with the one blow the absolute royalty, which it ought to have raised from its low position, and the constitutional royalty, which it ought to have upheld, and which, directed against the Jacobins, whom it ought to have extinguished, gave them, on the contrary, an additional strength.
Robert, as I have said, was an enormous man, of forty or forty-five years of age. Being a member of the Club of the Cordeliers, he vainly searched with his eyes some of his colleagues of reputation. Either by accident, or otherwise, he did not succeed in finding a single one of these. On the Saturday evening, Danton was obliged to join a meeting in the wood of Vincennes, and thence he went on to Fontenoy, where his father-in-law was a street vender of lemonade. Legendre had left about the same time, with Camille Desmoulins, and Féron. A meeting had been arranged at Fontenoy, by Danton, and all four dined there together.
A great responsibility was, therefore, about to be placed on the shoulders of Robert; he would be obliged to represent alone, or nearly so, the entire Club of the Cordeliers. We must, however, agree that he accepted his position bravely. The Club of the Jacobins was totally out of the question, since Lanterre, in the name of the Society, had come and withdrawn the petition.