"I know what you say, Robespierre," continued Marat, "just as I knew what was going on in the tower of the Temple when they were fattening Louis XVI.; and the wolf, the she-wolf, and the cubs, during the month of September alone, devoured eighty-six baskets of peaches. At that time the nation was starving. I know it, as I know that Roland was concealed in a lodging looking out on a back-yard, in the Rue de la Harpe; as I know that six hundred pikes used on the 14th of July were manufactured by Faure, the locksmith of the Duke of Orleans; as I know what they do at the house of Saint-Hilaire, the mistress of Sillery. On the days when there is to be a ball, old Sillery himself chalks the parquet floors of the yellow salon in the Rue Neuve-des-Mathurins; Buzot and Kersaint dined there; Saladin dined there on the 27th, and with whom do you guess, Robespierre? With your friend Lasource." "Idle talk," muttered Robespierre; "Lasource is not my friend." He added thoughtfully,-- "In the mean time there are eighteen manufactories of false assignats in London." Marat went on in a voice calm but somewhat tremulous, an ominous sign with him,-- "You are the faction of the All-Importants. Yes, I know everything, in spite of what Saint-Just calls the silence of State--" Marat emphasized this word, looked at Robespierre, and continued:-- "I know the conversation that takes place at your table on the days when Lebas invites David to eat the food prepared by his betrothed, Élisabeth Duplay, your future sister-in-law, Robespierre. I am the all-seeing eye of the people, and from the depths of my cave I observe. Yes, I hear, I see, and I know. You are contented with small things. You admire yourself. Robespierre shows himself off before his Madame de Chalabre, the daughter of the Marquis who played whist with Louis XV. on the evening of Damiens' execution. Yes, heads are carried high in these days. Saint-Just never unbends; Legendre is a scrupulous devotee to fashion, with his new frock-coat and white waistcoat, and a frill, that people may forget his apron. Robespierre imagines that history will be interested to know that he wore an olive-colored coat _à la Constitution_, and a sky-blue coat _à la Convention._ He hangs his portrait on every wall around his room--" Robespierre interrupted him in a voice even more quiet than that of Marat himself:-- "And you drag yours through all the sewers, Marat." They continued this conversation in tones whose very deliberation emphasized the violence of the attacks and retorts, and added a certain irony to the implied threats. "Robespierre, you called those who are in favor of the abolition of monarchy the Don Quixotes of mankind." "And you, Marat, after the 4th of August, in No. 559 of your 'Ami du Peuple,'--you see, I remember the number, a useful item,--you requested to have the titles of the nobles restored to them. You said: 'Once a Duke, always a Duke.'"