"Some one might come in!" he urged.
Robespierre, entirely taken up with Olivier, shrugged his shoulders.
"Let them come!" he said impatiently. "I have a right surely to pardon my own son!"
Lebas recalled him to reality.
No! he had no right to pardon a chouan, who had insulted the Republic the day before in presence of the whole nation. Robespierre's enemies would seize the occasion to cite the example of Brutus sacrificing his son to the interest of his country. They would exact from him a like proof of patriotism....
Robespierre was trying to loosen Olivier's cravat, but not succeeding asked Lebas's assistance. After all, he was right, especially as his enemies on the Committee of Public Safety, out of hatred for him, would kill the lad all the quicker. Opening the collar gently, he continued the while to reason about it, saying that the only means of saving him was to throw him brutally into prison, so as to mislead them, and to get him out secretly after three days.
The young man heaved a sigh.
"He is coming to," said Robespierre, checking his speculations.
Lebas observed that it was high time to let others come in; they would wonder at the length of the cross-examining. Robespierre assented, his eyes fixed on his son, who seemed now coming to himself. As the Incorruptible bent over him to ascertain if this was so, his lips touched the pale forehead.
But he heard steps, and had only time to pull himself up, when Héron entered, followed by his men.