CHAPTER XXVI
Sentence of death.
The "Bulletin du Tribunal Revolutionnaire" tells us that both theaccused had remained perfectly calm during the turmoil which ragedwithin the bare walls of the Hall of Justice.
Citizen-Deputy Deroulede, however, so the chroniclers aver, thoughoutwardly impassive, was evidently deeply moved. He had very expressiveeyes, clear mirrors of the fine, upright soul within, and in them therewas a look of intense emotion as he watched the crowd, which he had sooften dominated and controlled, now turning in hatred against him.
He seemed actually to be seeing with a spiritual vision, his ownpopularity wane and die.
But when the thick of the crowd had pushed and jostled itself out of thehall, that transient emotion seemed to disappear, and he allowed himselfquietly to be led from the front bench, where he had sat as a privilegedmember of the National Convention, to a place immediately behind thedock, and between two men of the National Guard.
From that moment he was a prisoner, accused of treason against theRepublic, and obviously his mock trial would be hurried through by histriumphant enemies, whilst the temper of the people was at boiling pointagainst him.
Complete silence had succeeded to the raging tumult of the past fewmoments. Nothing now could be heard in the vast room, saveFoucquier-Tinville's hastily whispered instructions to the clerk nearestto him, and the scratch of the latter's quill pen against the paper.
The President was, with equal rapidity, affixing his signature tovarious papers handed up to him by the other clerks. The few remainingspectators, the deputies, and those among the crowd who had elected tosee the close of the debate, were silent and expectant.
Merlin was mopping his forehead as if in intense fatigue after a hardstruggle; Robespierre was coolly taking snuff.
From where Deroulede stood, he could see Juliette's graceful figuresilhouetted against the light of the petrol lamp. His heart was tornbetween intense misery at having failed to save her and a curious,exultant joy at thought of dying beside her.
He knew the procedure of this revolutionary tribunal well--knew thatwithin the next few moments he too would be condemned, that they wouldboth be hustled out of the crowd and dragged through the streets ofParis, and finally thrown into the same prison, to herd with those who,like themselves, had but a few hours to live.
And then to-morrow at dawn, death for them both under the guillotine.Death in public, with all its attendant horrors: the packed tumbril; thepriest, in civil clothes, appointed by this godless government,muttering conventional prayers and valueless exhortations.
And in his heart there was nothing but love for her--love and an intensepity--for the punishment she was suffering was far greater than hercrime. He hoped that in her heart remorse would not be too bitter; andhe looked forward with joy to the next few hours, which he would passnear her, during which he could perhaps still console and soothe her.
She was but the victim of an ideal, of Fate stronger than her own will.She stood, an innocent martyr to the great mistake of her life.
But the minutes sped on. Foucquier-Tinville had evidently completed hisnew indictments.
The one against Juliette Marny was read out first. She was now accusedof conspiring with Paul Deroulede against the safety of the Republic, byhaving cognisance of a treasonable correspondence carried on with theprisoner, Marie Antoinette; by virtue of which accusation the PublicProsecutor asked her if she had anything to say.
"No," she replied loudly and firmly. "I pray to God for the safety anddeliverance of our Queen, Marie Antoinette, and for the overthrow ofthis Reign of Terror and Anarchy."
These words, registered in the "Bulletin du Tribunal Revolutionnaire"were taken as final and irrefutable proofs of her guilt, and she wasthen summarily condemned to death.
She was then made to step down from the dock and Deroulede to stand inher place.
He listened quietly to the long indictment which Foucquier-Tinville hadalready framed against him the evening before, in readiness for thiscontingency. The words "treason against the Republic" occurredconspicuously and repeatedly. The document itself is at one with thethousands of written charges, framed by that odious Foucquier-Tinvilleduring these periods of bloodshed, and which in themselves are the mostscathing indictments against the odious travesty of Justice, perpetratedwith his help.
Self-accused, and avowedly a traitor, Deroulede was not even asked if hehad anything to say; sentence of death was passed on him, with therapidity and callousness peculiar to these proceedings.
After which Paul Deroulede and Juliette Marny were led forth, understrong escort, into the street.