Clarisse had risen in new terror. Was her martyrdom to recommence? But Robespierre reassured her. He might yet be victorious in the struggle between the Communes and the Convention. Once master of the Assembly, master of the Committee, he could save Olivier.
"But if ... but if you should not succeed?" asked Clarisse, allowing her mother's heart to overcome her.
"He will be saved all the same! His only crime was that he insulted me. At my fall he will be looked upon as a hero. He will be restored to you both ... to you both," he repeated gently, looking at Thérèse the while.
"Give me your hand, my child, and do not let it tremble in mine.... It is on your youthful love I shall have smiled for the last time...."
Clarisse, deeply moved by the scene, tried to speak, but Robespierre interrupted her—
"In the meantime you must not stay here.... You must remain in the room by which you entered... Urbain will fetch you as soon as we have started for the Tuileries, and will take you to a safe retreat, where you will await the course of events... If I am vanquished again you are also free...."
And looking at them sadly he added—
"For are not you also my victims?"
Clarisse, touched with pity, stopped him and spoke words of consolation. Why should he talk as if everything were lost!
Alas! Everything was nearly lost! He had been persuaded to hasten the attack on the Convention. It was a trap that had been set in vengeance.