"It is well! I feared it was a more powerful enemy.

This man must be arrested at once." "And he waits below.

I brushed by him as I ascended the stairs." "Does he so ?--admit!--nay,--hold! hold! Guerin, withdraw into the inner chamber till I summon thee again.

Dear Payan, see that this Nicot conceals no weapons." Payan, who was as brave as Robespierre was pusillanimous, repressed the smile of disdain that quivered on his lips a moment, and left the room.
Meanwhile Robespierre, with his head buried in his bosom, seemed plunged in deep thought.

"Life is a melancholy thing, Couthon!" said he, suddenly.
"Begging your pardon, I think death worse," answered the philanthropist, gently.
Robespierre made no rejoinder, but took from his portefeuille that singular letter, which was found afterwards amongst his papers, and is marked LXI.