[Illustration: Cover art] [Frontispiece: MISS ELLEN TERRY AS CLARISSE DE MAULUÇON IN "ROBESPIERRE."] Robespierre _The Story of Victorien Sardou's Play Adapted and Novelized under his authority_ BY ANGE GALDEMAR NEW YORK DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 1899 Copyright, 1899, BY ANGE GALDEMAR. University Press: JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A. [Transcriber's note: The chapter titles below do not all match the titles at the chapters.] Contents CHAPTER I The Discovery II The Voice of the Past III The Englishman IV The Arrest V The Scaffold amid Flowers VI The Prison of La Bourse VII The Fête of the Supreme Being VIII Beset by Memories and Forebodings IX Hours of Anguish X The Tumbrils XI "All These Gliding Ghosts" XII The Eve of the Battle XIII A Broken Idol XIV The Knell of the Tocsin XV Death's Kindly Veil MON CHER GALDEMAR,-- J'achève la lecture du roman qu'avec mon autorisation vous avez tiré de mon drame "Robespierre." Je ne saurais trop me féliciter de vous avoir encouragé à entreprendre ce travail, où vous avez, de la façon la plus heureuse, reproduit les incidents dra-matiques de ma pièce et préparé votre lecteur à apprécier l'admirable évocation du passé que Sir Henry Irving lui présente sur la scène du Lyceum. Je ne doute pas que le succèes de votre livre ne soil tel que vous le souhaite ma vieille et constante amitié. [Signature: Victor Sardoz] MARLY-LE-ROI. Robespierre CHAPTER I THE DISCOVERY The Hôtel de Pontivy was situated in the Rue des Lions-Saint-Paul, in the very heart of the Marais Quarter, which as early as the opening of this story, the June of 1775, seemed to form by itself a little province in Paris. It was a magnificent spring night. The sky, luminous with a galaxy of stars, was reflected on the dark waters of the Seine lazily flowing by. A hush rested on the Rue des Lions-Saint-Paul, which lay enshrouded in gloom and silence, indifferent to the fairy charms of the hour. Enclosed in high walls thickly clad with ivy, dark and mysterious as a prison, the Hôtel de Pontivy had all the aspect of some chill cloister apart from men and movement. And yet behind those shutters, where life seemed to pause, wrapped in slumber, some one is keeping watch--the master of the house, Monsieur Jacques Bernard Olivier de Pontivy, Councillor to the King's Parliament, sits late at his work, taking no count of time. But Monsieur de Pontivy has at last decided; he raises his eyes to the clock. "Twenty past two!" he exclaims. "I really cannot wake that poor fellow!"