“Ah, I now recognise you,” said Robespierre. “Then it was decided to go and fetch you.” “And I arrived just in time to see the gates shut. Not wishing to return home, at the bottom of the Marais, I was going to get a little shelter at the house of Pétion, who lives in the Faubourg St. Honoré. You came across me on my road, and brought me here. I ask permission to remain here all night. Surrounded by the spies of Lafayette, and satellites of Bailly, the life of an honest man runs great danger. I do not fear death, but my ambition is to die in a way useful to my country.” I assisted at this scene without the slightest emotion. It seemed to me a great honor to address this great man. “Then,” said he, “you are the friend of the Citizen Drouet?” “He cared for me like a father,” said I. “The little I know I owe to him and to Rousseau.” “Ah, young man, you have Rousseau?” “I know him by heart.” “Good master—great master! I, also, was his scholar, and I hope to do him credit one of these days.” Duplay and his wife listened with their mouths open, nearly on their knees. For some time, Duplay seemed as if he wished to ask a question. His wife and he had exchanged two or three significant glances. “Would the Citizen Robespierre do us the honor of supping with us?” “I would not trouble you so much,” said Robespierre. “And then, again, my sister would be anxious.” “But you were going to sup with the Citizen Pétion.” “Yes; but from Pétion’s I could have let my sister know.” “Very well; she can be informed from here as well.” “Have you any person certain?” “There is me, citizen,” said I. “Would you have that kindness?” “I will be only too happy to render this service to M. Duplay.” “Then have the goodness to give me pen, ink, and paper.” The two young girls brought him the pen and paper. He wrote, in a small hand, the following:— “MY SISTER,— “Don’t be uneasy. I am in safety. “Your brother, “MAXIMILIAN.” He then sealed his letter, and wrote the address in a bold hand, which reminded me greatly of his character,— _To Mdlle. Charlotte de Robespierre_. _No. 7 Rue Saintange_ _At the Marais._ I took the letter, and went on my mission. CHAPTER XLVI. INSTALLATION. I have already said that nature had gifted me with strong legs, and it was in days like the present that I appreciated the gift. As yet, I knew not sufficient of Paris to be enabled to extricate myself from the labyrinth of streets which joined the Rue St. Honoré, and which stretched from the Rue Aubry le Boucher to the Rue Boucherat, so that I spent six or seven minutes in making the necessary inquiries, and at last arrived.