It would have been certainly difficult for Robespierre to find a house more suited to his craving for an ostentatious display of Republican simplicity. The joiner's bench, the planks and tools littering the courtyard, the shed full of workmen during the day, sawing, piecing, and planing; the personal appearance of old Duplay, who only put aside his apron to come to table, or to go to the Jacobin Club, at which he was a constant attendant, or to the Revolutionary Tribunal, where he acted as deputy jury-man--all this marked the simple and industrious surroundings in which he lived. Two of his colleagues at the Convention had been lately received in the courtyard by Cornélie Duplay, who was hanging out some stockings to dry; and Robespierre had enjoyed their surprise from the window of his room, where he was shaving himself. He was suspected of aiming at the Dictatorship! Was he? And this was the spectacle which met the astonished eyes of visitors who surprised him in his private life! Robespierre and Cornélie had been received at the door by Blount, who barked and gambolled with joy at his master's return. The Duplay family, cooling themselves in the courtyard, were awaiting their return. "Here they are at last!" some one cried. It was mother Duplay, seated in the background under the dining-room window, washing a salad under the pump, her sleeves tucked up to the elbow, all ears for the slightest sound. "But we are not late, mamma!" said Cornélie, who had prudently stopped to avoid being splashed. "Not so very," answered the good woman, "but one never knows what may happen in such a crowd!" And looking towards Robespierre, from whom Victoire was taking his hat and stick, she added: "You can't help being anxious about people you love. Can you?" But Robespierre was for the moment entirely occupied with his dog, who barked and jumped on his master in frantic delight. "Yes, you good old dog, here I am! ... Yes! ... Yes! ... I couldn't take you with me, because of the crowd. It isn't fit for a good dog like you." "Then there were many people?" asked Duplay, who smoked his pipe, seated on a joiner's bench near little Maurice, his son, who was amusing himself by planing a small plank. "Yes, a great many." "An enormous crowd," added Cornélie, "particularly on the Place de la Révolution." "What! You crossed the Place de la Révolution?" Robespierre hastened to explain that Cornélie had had a fancy to come that way, which was, after all, excusable, as the people were dancing. "What! Already?" asked Victoire, her eyes sparkling. "Yes, already!" said Robespierre. And he told them all about their walk through the strange crowd, so lively and so full of enthusiasm, turning now and then to Cornélie for corroboration. But Cornélie wore an absent air, replying only in monosyllables, for she had just learnt that her dress had not yet arrived; though she took some comfort on hearing that her sisters were in no better plight.