"Splendid!" cried Simon Duplay, who was a bit of a gourmand.
"To-morrow, children, you shall have duck, duck and turnips!" said Madame Duplay, much gratified, as she set to work to carve the fowl, giving Robespierre the white meat, which he took mechanically, deep in thought. Lebas told them that he had seen Fouquier-Tinville, the Public Prosecutor, who was returning from the Bastille, where he had been to inspect the new installation.
"Ah, yes! the guillotine!" interposed mother Duplay, continuing to carve. "But it didn't work to-day, did it?"
"It will not work to-morrow either," said Robespierre, "but the day after to-morrow ..."
"Will you allude to it in your discourse, bon ami?"
"Yes, towards the end; for it is well that the aristocrats should know that we are not disarming."
"Decidedly," chimed in Duplay, "that would be too stupid."
Robespierre, warmed by the tone of the conversation, recovered his appetite.
"At all events," he said, "the fête to-morrow will be a warning for every one; for the aristocrats, as well as for many a Judas of the party."
He stopped to express his appreciation of the fowl, sending up his plate for more.