Again that brazen trumpet-call fell ominously on their ears, accompanied by the low rumbling of distant thunder. A sudden roll of drums burst out, and then all was hushed. The sound of a voice, coming up from the square in solemn, measured tones, broke upon the silence.
"In the name of the French Republic, the National Convention decrees Robespierre and all those who have taken part in the rebellion to be out of law."
A vague, indistinct murmur now arose from the square.
The voice continued with startling resonance—
"Citoyens! the Convention command you to make way for us!"
Robespierre and his friends were leaning out of the windows breathless with suspense, their eyes fastened on the artillery.
"Why don't they fire?" said Coffinhal.
Robespierre leant on a bar of the window, his hands clenched over it, his face pale, perspiration trickling down his forehead.
"Can't you fire at them, you dolts!"
Ah! they were getting their guns ready; they would fire now!