"Yes, yes, behold him!" cries Billaud.
The agitation increases. Cries of "To the door with him! Turn him out!" are heard. The man pleads innocence, and tries to weather the storm, but seeing the majority against him escapes as best he can, mixes with the crowd and disappears. Silence is with difficulty restored among the infuriated members.
The orator continues, throwing violent and insidious phrases broadcast among the assembly like lighted fire-brands. His thrusts strike nearer home now; he accuses Robespierre openly to his face.
"You will shudder when I tell you that the soldiery is under the unscrupulous control of that man who has the audacity to place at the head of the section-men and artillery of the city the degraded Hauriot, and that without consulting you at all, solely according to his own will, for he listens to no other dictates. He has, he says, deserted the Committees because they oppressed him. He lies!"
Robespierre rises, his lips quivering at the insult, and attempts to reply from his place.
"Yes, you lie!" continues Billaud. "You left us because you did not find among us either partisans, flatterers, or accomplices in your infamous projects against Liberty. Your sole aim has been to sow dissension, to disunite us that you might attack us singly and remain in power at the head of drunkards and debauchees, like that secretary who stole a hundred and fifty thousand livres, and whom you took under your wing, you, the Incorruptible, you who make such boast of your strict virtue and integrity!"
Laughter, mixed with some applause is heard, but Robespierre shrugs his shoulders contemptuously at such vulgar abuse. Fouché, from his bench, laughs loudly with the rest, and leaning towards his neighbour, whispers—
"Clever tactics! ... Billaud is splendid!"
The speaker, in conclusion, appeals to the patriotism of the assembly, and implores the members to watch over its safety. If they do not take energetic measures against this madman, he says, the Convention is lost, for he only speaks of purifying it that he may send to the scaffold all those who stand in the way of his personal ambition. It is, he insists, the preservation of the Convention which is at stake, the safety of the Republic, the salvation of their country.
"I demand," so runs his peroration, "that the Convention sit permanently until it has baffled the plans of this new Catiline, whose only aim is to cross the trench which still separates him from supremacy by filling it with our heads!"