‘Your sneer is a weak sarcasm,’ said Marat savagely. ‘Menard is right: it is not man by man, but in platoons, that our vengeance must be executed.’
‘I have an uncle and five cousins, whom, from motives of delicacy, I have not denounced. Will any one do me the favour to write the Count de Rochegarde and his sons?’
‘I adopt them with pleasure. I wanted a count or two among my barons.’
‘I drink to all patriots,’ said Marat, draining his glass, and turning a full look on Fitzgerald.
‘I accept the toast,’ said Gerald, drinking.
‘And I too,’ cried Louvet, ‘though I do not understand it.’
‘By patriot, I mean one who adores liberty,’ said Marat
‘And hates the tyrant,’ cried another.
‘For the liberty to send my enemy to the guillotine, I am ready to fight to-morrow,’ said Guadet.
‘For whom, let me ask, are we to make ourselves hangmen and headsmen?’ cried a pale, sickly youth, whose voice trembled as he spoke. ‘The furious populace will not thank you that you have usurped their hunting-grounds. If you run down their game, they will one day turn and rend you!’