ad better be, and
in the next how it is to be managed. It must be some one whose
signature the people at the prison would be sure to obey."

"Then," Victor said, "it must be either Danton or Robespierre."

"Or Marat," Harry added; "I think he is as powerful as either of
the others."

"He is the worst of them, anyhow," Victor said. "There is something
straightforward about Danton. No doubt he is ambitious, but I think
his hatred of us all is real. He is a terrible enemy, and will
certainly stick at nothing. He is ruthless and pitiless, but I do
not think he is double-faced. Robespierre is ambitious too, but
I think he is really acting according to his principles, such as
they are. He would be pitiless too, but he would murder on principle.

"He would sign unmoved the order for a hundred heads to fall if he
thought their falling necessary or even useful for the course of
the Revolution, but I do not think he would shed a drop of blood
to satisfy private enmity. They call him the 'incorruptible.' He is
more dangerous than Danton, for he has no vices. He lives simply,
and they say is fond of birds and pets. I do not think we should
make much of either Danton or him, even if we got them in our power.

"Danton would be like a wild beast in a snare. He would rage with
fury, but I do not think that he would be intimidated into signing
what we require, not do I think would Robespierre. Marat is a
different creature altogether. He is simply venomous. He hates the
world, and would absolutely rejoice in slaughter. So loathsome is
he in appearance that even his colleagues shrink from him. He is a
venomous reptile whom it would be a pleasure to slay, as it would
be to put one's heel upon a rattlesnake. Whether he is a coward
or not I do not know, but I should think so. Men of his type are
seldom brave. I think if we had him in our hands we might frighten
him into doing what we want."

"Then Marat it shall be," Harry said; "that much is settled. Tomorrow
we will find out something about his habits. Till we know about
that we cannot form any plan whatever. Let us meet at dinner-time
at our usual place. Then we will go outside the Assembly and wait
till he comes out. Fortunately we both know him well by sight. He
will be sure to go, surrounded, as usual, by a mob of his admirers,
to the Jacobin Club. From there we can trace him to his home. No
doubt anyone could tell us where he lives, but it would be dangerous
to ask. When