Robespierre was in the tribune. He attacked, in the midst of vociferous plaudits, the vote of the Assembly. When he had finished, M. Laclos took his place. You must not forget that Laclos was the intendant of the Duc d’Orleans. He demanded that a bulletin should be issued, proclaiming the forfeiture. “There will be,” said he, “ten million signatures.” “Yes, yes!” cried the spectators, with one voice. “Ten, fifteen, twenty millions! The women and children, even, shall be compelled to sign!” A powerful voice shook the nation. It was Danton’s. For some days the Cordeliers had fraternized with the Jacobins, and Danton walked with Robespierre. “Only,” said Danton, in a low voice, “let us have no women. They are generally Royalists. They would vote for the deposal of a King only in order to raise up another.” Saying these words, he stared fixedly at the author of “Liaisons Dangereuses.” Not a smile nor a frown ruffled the habitually stern features of Laclos. Perceiving the silence kept by the Duke of Orleans’ man, he added, “And more, I prefer an address to the adopted societies to a public one.” Laclos said nothing, but appeared as if listening to something outside the building. All at once, a large mass of people entered the club. They were what were called the Bucks of the Palais Royal, dragging with them about fifty young women of questionable character. “Ah, ah!” murmured Danton. “’Tis a planned affair!” All the newly-arrived mixed with the Jacobins, crying, “The forfeiture—the forfeiture!” Laclos ascended the tribune. “You see,” said he, “’tis the people—the people who desire the forfeiture. A petition is necessary, of which I approve.” All this immense crowd, who probably had the word, cried with one voice, “The petition—the petition!” Then, with uproarious enthusiasm, the petition was voted. It was agreed that the next day, at eleven o’clock, the Jacobins should meet and hear the reading of it, after which it would be brought to the Champs de Mars, where it was to be signed by the populace, and thence forwarded to the adopted societies. During this tumult, M. Duplay had taken hold of my arm, and drew me sharply on one side. He then pointed me out a woman standing outside one of the tribunes, who appeared to be taking the greatest possible interest in what was passing. “Look at that woman,” said he; “it is the Citizen Roland Platrière—a good patriot.” CHAPTER XLI. CONCERNING THE BILL OF FORFEITURE.