"Now, friend John, I understand the affair," returned Castillon. "We go say to the Girondins: 'Look you, citizens, we are here, a hundred thousand good patriots of Paris; and down there, in the country, other hundreds of thousands of good patriots, all convinced, like us, that you have not enough hair on your eyebrows to save the Republic. That is settled! We have the numbers, the force and the cannon for you, but these numbers, this force, these cannon we do not want to use. Only we say to you, in the name of the country: Citizen Girondins, when your loins are not strong enough to bear the burden, leave it to others more robust. Come, make yourselves scarce!'"
"You speak words of gold, my good Castillon. Yes, in all probability, such will be the consequences of to-morrow's program. The majority of the Convention—a majority which is often vacillating and undecided, but which has so far supported the Girondins—will, struck with this imposing manifestation, this calm, dignified, legal attitude of the people, and yielding to the pressure of public opinion, throw off the Girondin influence which dominates it, and join forces with the Jacobins, who will thus become masters of the situation. Then, my friends, be sure of it, whatever the allied monarchs of Europe may do, whatever the plots of the royalists and priests, the Republic, the Revolution, France, will be saved without the sovereignty of the people having been violated in the person of a single one of its Representatives in the Commune or the Convention, even of those most opposed to new ideas; and without the stigma of bloodshed."
All at once John Lebrenn's wife dashed into the workshop. She was pale and trembling, and called in tones of terror:
"John, my friend, come at once! What a misfortune!"
"Charlotte, you frighten me," cried Lebrenn, hastening to his wife's side. "Heavens, what has happened?"
"Come, come, in haste."
"Citizeness Lebrenn, do you need us?" called Castillon, as much moved as his comrades at the anxiety depicted on the young woman's face. "Speak—here we are, at your service."
"Thank you all, my friends, thank you. Alas! There is no remedy for the grief which has smitten us," replied Charlotte. And taking the arm of her husband, who grew every instant more uneasy, she dragged him out of the shop and towards their dwelling.
CHAPTER XXIV.
LOST AGAIN.
While John Lebrenn was enlightening his companions on the probable events of the coming day, Victoria, returning home close on half past nine, had gone up to her room. Setting the lamp on the table, she took off her street cloak and sat down, sad and weary. Her head fell between her hands. Suddenly her glance rested on a sheet of paper, placed conspicuously in the center of the table, and the young woman read, almost mechanically, these lines, traced in Oliver's still inexpert hand: