the young sans-culotte's
worth, and they were reluctant to pass sentence upon him and to send him
to the death designed for aristocrats and traitors. And so they readily
pronounced themselves willing to extend him the most generous measure
of mercy, to open their arms and once more to clasp to their hearts the
brother who had strayed and to reinstate him in their confidence and
their councils. They pressed Robespierre to name the act of atonement
by which he proposed La Boulaye should recover his prestige, and
Robespierre in answer cried:

"Let him repair the evil he has done. Let him neutralise the treachery
into which a moment of human weakness betrayed him. Let him return to
us the aristocrat he has attempted to save, and we will forget his
indiscretion and receive him back amongst us with open arms, as was the
prodigal son received."

There was a salvo of applause. Men rose to their feet excitedly, and
with arms outstretched in Caron's direction they vociferously implored
him to listen to reason as uttered by the Incorruptible, to repent him
and to atone while there was yet time. They loved him, they swore in
voices of thunder, each seeking to be heard above his neighbour's din,
and it would break their hearts to find him guilty, yet find him guilty
they must unless he chose the course which this good patriot Maximilien
pointed out to him.

La Boulaye stood pale but composed, his lips compressed, his keen eyes
alert. Inwardly he was moved by this demonstration of goodwill, this
very storm of fraternity, but his purpose remained adamant, and when at
last the President's bell had tinkled his noisy judges into silence, his
voice rose clear and steady as he thanked them for leaning to clemency
on his behalf.

"Helas," he ended, "words cannot tell you how deeply I deplore that it
is a clemency of which I may not avail myself. What I have done I may
not undo. And so, Citizens, whilst I would still retain your love and
your sympathy, you must suffer me to let justice take its course. To
delay would be but to waste your time the Nation's time."

"But this is rank defiance," roared Tinvillle, roused at last into some
semblance of his habitual bloodthirstiness. "He whose heart can be so
insensible to our affections merits no clemency at this bar."

And so the President turned with a shrug to his colleagues, and the
verdict was taken. The finding was "Guilty," and the President was on
the point of passing sentence, whe