“And these cords,” continued Marat—“take care, Camille Desmoulins, that one of them is not first tried on you.” “In that case,” replied the incorrigible railer, “I have a chance, if they take me, of growing ugly. You haven’t.” Here the laughter broke out irresistibly, and as it arose from Camille’s side, he may be fairly said to have gained the victory. Marat descended, furiously shaking his fist. “Return to thy cave, night-bird! Go back to thy hole, hyena! Sneak into thy nest, viper!” murmured Danton, with a look of ineffable disdain. But Danton’s murmurs were like thunder; every one heard them. When Marat left, all joined in brotherly communion, his presence having alone restrained them hitherto. M. Jean Baptiste knew Danton, and went to shake hands with him, and to compliment Camille Desmoulins. I could not turn my eyes from the face of the ex-advocate, that terrible blind man whom Providence had given to guide the revolution. I shall have occasion to speak again of him, and to show what sensibility of heart was hidden beneath that rough exterior. We left the club at midnight, and returned to the “Hotel des Postes,” Rue Grange Batélière. At daybreak on the morrow we had to be under arms. CHAPTER XIX. THE FIELD OF THE FEDERATION. I could not sleep all night. I had seen so much since my arrival, and had been in company with so many great men—Mirabeau, Robespierre, Lameth, Laclos, Chemier, Talma, David, Laharpe, Danton, Marat, Desmoulins, Anacharsis Clootz, and Herbert—that their names continued to ring in my soul like an alarm bell. And through them all passed the beautiful amazon in her red robe; and that seemed so strange to me, coming as I had for the first time from the Forest of Argonne, and feeling, as it were, in another world, or else in a state of furious delirium. I arose at daybreak. Alas! the morning was dark and rainy-looking; thick black clouds were chasing each other over the sky once so pure and brilliant, but now changing its opinions, and becoming aristocratic. I awoke M. Drouet. I was astonished that any one could sleep on the night heralding in such a day. He jumped up and dressed himself. We took our guns, and descended. We soon joined our friends of St. Menehould and Islettes, formed rank, and marched to the Champ de Mars. At the door of Sainte Honoré, we met the orator of the human race, who had passed the night at the Cordeliers. He had with him a body of men, Poles, Russians, Turks, Persians, all in their national costumes. He took them to the federation of France before he took them to the federation of the world. We marched by the river’s side, and soon arrived at the Champ de Mars. A hundred and sixty thousand people were seated on the slopes, a hundred and fifty thousand on the plain itself, and yet there was sufficient space left to accommodate fifty thousand of the National Guard.