Urbain also tried to comfort her by promising to keep her informed of whatever happened. There was some talk of an insurrection of the Commune, he told her, of an attack on the Convention by an armed force, headed by Coffinhal, who was entirely devoted to Robespierre. Who could tell whether the Incorruptible's vengeance might not be brooding! Once rescued, he would again be all-powerful, and change the face of affairs!
"With him, one never knows what may happen!" continued Urbain hopefully. "He has so many resources, and he is, besides, so popular!"
Clarisse, worn out with grief, was, of necessity, resigned.
"May God's will be done!" she sighed. "I shall wait for you here."
Urbain left them, and the two women knelt in prayer.
The storm which had hung threateningly over Paris all day now burst out. Night had just set in when streaks of lurid light shot through the darkness, heralding a thunder-storm. Suddenly the sound of a bell was heard. It grew louder and louder, pealing a signal of alarm.
Clarisse had risen and stood erect and pale.
"The tocsin!" she gasped, and then ran to the window, followed by Thérèse.
Troops could be discerned in the distance, brandishing pikes and guns.
A shout reached the two women—