... Down in the crowd, too, the fortunes of war have changed. The wicked Frochards, who have been egging on the crowds to jeer the victims, have become distinctly unpopular. It is Picard’s turn to jest the Frochards now.
A grenadier offers a little friendly assistance with the bayonet, pricking the old hag in a tender part as if by accident. She jumps and squeals. Sly Picard watches another chance, shoves forward his friend’s bayonet to prick her again.
... Both she and her precious Jacques the Good-for-Nothing take it on the run, 190 enduring the buffets of the railing soldiery. Yes, Picard––our genial rogue of a body servant––gets in the last bayonet pricks and body wallops of this story!
CHAPTER XXX
THE AFTERMATH
Danton later suffered the dark hour and the snapping of Life’s thread through Robespierre’s cruelty, but the glory of that valiant soul is eternal.
His plea for the ways of Mercy––his gallant deeds (like this particular one) of risking all for the life of a friend––were as signposts to bewildered humanity. He foresaw the precipice down which the Terrorists were headed for the pit:
“This time twelvemonth I was moving the creation of that same Revolutionary Tribunal. I crave pardon for it of God and man. They are all Brothers Cain––I leave the whole business in a frightful welter. Robespierre will follow me; I drag down Robespierre!”