Apparently, by unanimous consent, the coalheaver, from some obscure province of France, had been tacitly acknowledged the leader of the band. Merlin, still in terror for himself, looked to him for advice; even Tinville was ready to be guided by him. All were at one in their desire to rid themselves of Déroulède, who by his clean living, his aloofness from their own hideous orgies and deadly hates, seemed a living reproach to them all; and they all felt that in Lenoir there must exist some secret dislike of the popular Citizen-Deputy, which would give him a clear insight of how best to bring about his downfall. "What is your advice?" had been Merlin's query, and everyone there listened eagerly for what was to come. "We are all agreed," commenced Lenoir quietly, "that just at this moment it would be unwise to arraign the Citizen-Deputy without material proof. The mob of Paris worship him, and would turn against those who had tried to dethrone their idol. Now, Citizen Merlin failed to furnish us with proofs of Déroulède's guilt. For the moment he is a free man, and I imagine a wise one; within two days he will have quitted this country, well knowing that, if he stayed long enough to see his popularity wane, he would also outstay his welcome on earth altogether." "Ay! Ay!" said some of the men approvingly, whilst others laughed hoarsely at the weird jest. "I propose, therefore," continued Lenoir after a slight pause, "that it shall be Citizen-Deputy Déroulède himself who shall furnish to the people of France proofs of his own treason against the Republic." "But how? But how?" rapid, loud and excited queries greeted this extraordinary suggestion from the provincial giant. "By the simplest means imaginable," retorted Lenoir with imperturbable calm. "Isn't there a good proverb which our grandmothers used to quote, that if you only give a man a sufficient length of rope, he is sure to hang himself? We'll give our aristocratic Citizen-Deputy plenty of rope, I'll warrant, if only our present Minister of Justice," he added, indicating Merlin, "will help us in the little comedy which I propose that we should play." "Yes! Yes! Go on!" said Merlin excitedly. "The woman who denounced Déroulède--that is our trump card," continued Lenoir, now waxing enthusiastic with his own scheme and his own eloquence. "She denounced him. Ergo, he had been her lover, whom she wished to be rid of--why? Not, as Citizen Merlin supposed, because he had discarded her. No, no; she had another lover--she has admitted that. She wished to be rid of Déroulède to make way for the other, because he was too persistent--ergo, because he loved her." "Well, and what does that prove?" queried Tinville with dry sarcasm. "It proves that Déroulède, being in love with the woman, would do much to save her from the guillotine." "Of course." "_Pardi!_ let him try, say I," rejoined Lenoir placidly. "Give him the rope with which to hang himself."