There was a sudden movement of relief and hopefulness that lasted only for a moment and then gave place to horror.
The sectioners had turned their cannon against the Hôtel de Ville!
One cry, the despairing cry of the vanquished, echoed through the room.
"We are betrayed! Sauve qui peut!"
Then followed an indescribable scene of panic. All was irreparably lost. Defeat, merciless and sanguinary, stared them in the face. Cries and shouts came up from the square, but one cry rose above all.
"En avant! Forward!"
Drums beat the charge.
Some ran to the doors, others to the windows to get upon the roof. Augustin Robespierre already on the ledge of one of the windows, prepared to escape by the cornice. His foot slipped and he fell on to the pavement amidst derisive shouts.
"They shall not have me alive!" cried Lebas, drawing two pistols from his belt; and he placed one on the table near Robespierre, who had fallen prostrate on a chair.
"That is for you, Robespierre! Adieu!" and he rushed put.