Robespierre looked at him in surprise. In what way could that name interest him? Lebas had now closed his note-book, deep in thought. Clarisse? Olivier's mother was called Clarisse? But the woman who implored Robespierre's clemency for her son, aged nineteen, the woman whose letter he had refused to read just now ...
"Was signed Clarisse?" cried Robespierre breathlessly.
"Yes," replied Lebas.
"That is his mother!"...
And pointing to the young man, who was on the brink of swooning.
"You see, it is she! Look at him; there is no mistaking, it is she!"
"She is at the prison of La Bourbe, then," said Lebas.
Robespierre could no longer hide his joy, at last he knew where to find them!
But he was interrupted by a cry of pain. Olivier, thinking his mother now irretrievably lost, had fainted away. Robespierre ran to him, and bending over tried to bring him to consciousness, gently reassuring him, swearing he was going to give the prisoners their liberty.
But Lebas, who was also bending over the young man, reminded the Incorruptible that Olivier no longer heard him. Then Robespierre, with infinite precautions, assisted by Lebas, lifted him into an armchair, and taking a bottle of scent left behind by the ladies, gently bathed Olivier's temples with the perfume. Lebas, rather anxious lest Robespierre's paternal solicitude should be discovered, remained on the watch, imploring him to be prudent.