"The light of burning rafters flashed luridly over scenes of blood; soon all that is grotesque, or terrible, or loathsome in murder, was enacted in the streets of Paris. The lantern posts bore their ghastly fruit; the streets flowed with crimson rivers, the life-blood of ten thousand hearts, down even to the waters of the Seine. Lafayette and Paine and all the heroes were gone from the councils of France, but in their place, aye, in the place of poetry, enthusiasm and eloquence, spoke a mighty orator--King Guillotine."--_George Lippard_. With Danton died another of Paine's cherished friends--Hérault de Sechelles. Hérault, president of the National Assembly, and, for a time, president of the National Convention, was the first to welcome Paine to Paris when he came to take his seat in the convention. He was physically and intellectually one of France's most magnificent men. He was a ripe scholar and a superb orator. He possessed great wealth and a most fascinating address. He and Paine and Danton had from the first been members of the Convention; they had served together on the Committee of the Constitution, Hérault as Paine's suppliant, and they had occupied the same prison, the prison set apart for the most illustrious victims of the Revolution. I quote from Washburne. I desire to present one of the ten thousand tragic and pathetic scenes which compose this mighty and immortal drama. "Tragedy walks hand in hand with History and the eyes of Glory are wet with tears:" "More victims were now demanded, and, at this time, the oldest children of the Revolution were claimed. They were the 'Dantonists,' among whom was included Hérault.... Hérault was unmarried. When imprisoned at the Luxembourg awaiting his trial he appeared sad and preoccupied. On arriving at the guillotine, on the Place de la Revolution on the day of his execution, all his looks were turned toward the hotel of the Garde-Meuble, hoping evidently to exchange glances with one with whom were all his thoughts at that supreme moment. Behind the shutters, half closed, was a beautiful woman who sent to the condemned a last adieu and waved a last sigh of tenderness to the dying man: _Je t'aime_ (I love thee). It was a beautiful day of the springtime, and the crowd that had assembled to witness the execution of Danton, the great Apostle of the Revolution, and his associates was enormous. The splendid figure of Hérault de Sechelles seemed to take new life, and the serenity of courage replaced the inquietude and sadness which had settled upon him. The first one to mount the scaffold, he showed himself calm, resolute and unmoved. As he was about to lay his head under the knife, he wished to present his cheek to the cheek of Danton [their hands were bound], as a last farewell. The aids of Samson, the executioner, prevented it. 'Imbeciles!' indignantly exclaimed Danton, 'it will be but a moment before our heads will meet in the basket in spite of you.'"