“Give Danton a hearing!” was the murmur among the sansculottes, half awed by his old witchery.
The impassioned orator swung upon them, his old supporters.
“My heart––my brain––my soul––my very life! Do they mean anything to you––to France?”
“YES! YES!” shouted the answering mob, caught by the personal appeal.
Alarmed at the swiftly changing tide, the Chief Judge sought the Dictator’s eye. The orator’s eyes were far away, his frame was convulsed by emotion as he cried: “My very life––everything––I owe to one of these victims!” The mob identified its cause with Danton’s, submerged their personalities with his own!
DANTON AND MEN RIDE TO THE RESCUE PAST THE
CORRUPT AND DEGENERATE ORGY OF THE “FEAST OF REASON.”
Robespierre answered Forget-Not’s look. He indicated the speaker by a slight motion of the head, then drew his right hand across the throat, played with the lace ruffles––and smiled! Forget-Not understood. Not then––but later, only a little later––would come the time to snuff out this disturber!