"I believe the Revolution is so great that its ideas can survive even the massacre that you assassins have begun." Then interrupting the catechism disdainfully, he said: "Enough. I should never have survived this day. Arrest me." Javogues, too overcome with rage for utterance, consigned him with a furious gesture to his body-guard. From all sides went up a shout of hatred and anger. Children and women crowded about, vying with one another to insult the prisoner; men shook their fists in his face and hooted. Amid curses and raillery, the Girondin walked with collected steps, looking into the ranks of his foes with steady eyes. They had gone but a block when they encountered Nicole and Barabant. At the sight of Goursac in custody, surrounded by the snarling pack, the two, obeying only their generous impulses, sprang forward with outstretched hands: "What, you, my friend!" Nicole cried, in astonishment and sorrow. "They have arrested you!" "No, they are liberating me," he answered, with a smile. He pressed their hands. "Adieu, Nicole; adieu, Barabant; and thanks." But suddenly the voice of la Mère Corniche rose shrilly: "He is the friend of the Girondin. He is contre-révolutionnaire. Arrest the man Barabant!" Cramoisin took up the cry. "He who pities an enemy of the Nation is a traitor. Arrest him!" Boudgoust and Jambony, joining in, shouted: "Arrest him! Arrest him!" In the abject crowd, terrified by these four men, a murmur, a muttering, a rumble, circulated, which it waited to convert into either protest or approval as Javogues should pronounce. As the Marseillais unwillingly approached, Nicole, dragging Barabant back, whispered in his ear that eternal cry of woman: "Save thyself. Thy life belongs to me." "Citoyen Barabant," Javogues said sternly, "did you greet this man as a Girondin?" "I greeted him," Barabant said slowly, "as a man who has done me kindnesses in the past." Before this allusion to his own indebtedness Javogues hesitated, but the cries of the crowd urged him on. "He evades the question!" "He's a Girondin!" "Ask him if he's a Girondin!" The last cry, from la Mère Corniche, imposed itself above the rest. "Citoyen Barabant," Javogues asked, "are you a Girondin?" As Barabant hesitated, Nicole sought the glance of Goursac, invoking his aid. The Girondin, who saw no one but her, perceiving her motive, thought bitterly: "I die, and she cannot spare me a look of pity!" The crowd was clamoring. "He hesitates!" "He refuses!" "Arrest him!" At their cries, Barabant decided. "I am not a Girondin," he said. A chorus of approval greeted the renunciation, but la Mère Corniche, not to be balked, cried: "He is deceiving us!" Those who wished to save him called to him: "Cry, Vive les Jacobins!" Barabant, all escape denied him, shouted: "Vive la Nation! Vive les Jacobins!"