He cried out in desperation—
"Does the man never mean to come!"
At that moment a man's form appeared in the gallery to his right, and he went towards it hopefully. Barassin? But he recoiled. No! it was not he! The form grew more distinct, others followed. There were now six, eight, ten, twenty of them, a band of prisoners slowly and silently moving towards the gate. They were coming, all coming! He recognised them:
"The Girondins! .. Brissot! .. Vergniaud! .."
Were all his victims then going to show themselves behind those iron bars like avengers, to torture and madden him?
Robespierre was suddenly dazzled by a stream of moonlight illuminating an iron grating just above him, which he had not noticed on his entrance. Outlines of fresh forms appeared behind the bars, gradually growing more distinct. They were the ghosts of other victims! For he recognised them, while they, apparently, were unconscious of his presence.
He took his eyes off these for a moment to see if the spectres gathered behind the grating of the ground floor were still there. Yes! They were still there. They were everywhere then? Everywhere! ... What were they doing? Why did they come and force the past upon him in this way? After spending the day in struggling with the living, must his nights be spent in encounters with the dead? He continued staring in mute and fascinated horror, as motionless as those ghosts gathered behind the closed grill, and seeming to await the gruesome roll-call of the condemned.
At their silence he presently took heart. None of them had their eyes fixed on him. This was proof, he thought, that they existed only in his imagination. For, after all, if they were real, they would have stared at him in anger, with terrible and threatening looks ... they would have rushed upon him, one and all. Those iron barriers would have yielded to their united effort, and burst asunder!
Even as he thought this the gratings swung back noiselessly.
Robespierre recoiled, his flesh creeping, cold beads of perspiration starting on his forehead.