X
The
Substance of the Shadow
"I,
Alexandre Manette, unfortunate physician, native of
"These
words are formed by the rusty iron point with which I write with difficulty in
scrapings of soot and charcoal from the chimney, mixed with blood, in the last
month of the tenth year of my captivity. Hope has quite departed from my
breast. I know from terrible warnings I have noted in myself that my reason
will not long remain unimpaired, but I solemnly declare that I am at this time
in the possession of my right mind--that my memory is exact and
circumstantial--and that I write the truth as I shall answer for these my last
recorded words, whether they be ever read by men or not, at the Eternal
Judgment-seat.
"One
cloudy moonlight night, in the third week of December (I think the
twenty-second of the month) in the year 1757, I was walking on a retired part
of the quay by the Seine for the refreshment of the frosty air, at an hour's
distance from my place of residence in the Street of the School of Medicine,
when a carriage came along behind me, driven very fast. As I stood aside to let
that carriage pass, apprehensive that it might otherwise run me down, a head
was put out at the window, and a voice called to the driver to stop.
"The
carriage stopped as soon as the driver could rein in his horses, and the same
voice called to me by my name. I answered. The carriage was then so far in
advance of me that two gentlemen had time to open the door and alight before I
came up with it.
I
observed that they were both wrapped in cloaks, and appeared to conceal
themselves. As they stood side by side near the carriage door, I also observed
that they both looked of about my own age, or rather younger, and that they
were greatly alike, in stature, manner, voice, and (as far as I could see) face
too.
"`You
are Doctor Manette?' said one.
"I
am."
"`Doctor
Manette, formerly of
"`Gentlemen,'
I returned, `I am that Doctor Manette of whom you speak so graciously.'
"`We
have been to your residence,' said the first, `and not being so fortunate as to
find you there, and being informed that you were probably walking in this
direction, we followed, in the hope of overtaking you. Will you please to enter
the carriage?'
"The
manner of both was imperious, and they both moved, as these words were spoken,
so as to place me between themselves and the carriage door. They were armed. I
was not.
"`Gentlemen,'
said I, `pardon me; but I usually inquire who does me the honour to seek my
assistance, and what is the nature of the case to which I am summoned.'
"The
reply to this was made by him who had spoken second. 'Doctor, your clients are
people of condition. As to the nature of the case, our confidence in your skill
assures us that you will ascertain it for yourself better than we can describe
it. Enough. Will you please to enter the carriage?'
"I
could do nothing but comply, and I entered it in silence. They both entered
after me--the last springing in, after putting up the steps. The carriage
turned about, and drove on at its former speed.
"I
repeat this conversation exactly as it occurred. I have no doubt that it is,
word for word, the same. I describe everything exactly as it took place,
constraining my mind not to wander from the task. Where I make the broken marks
that follow here, I leave off for the time, and put my paper in its
hiding-place.
*
* * *
"The
carriage left the streets behind, passed the North Barrier, and emerged upon
the country road. At two-thirds of a league from the Barrier--I did not
estimate the distance at that time, but afterwards when I traversed it--it
struck out of the main avenue, and presently stopped at a solitary house, We
all three alighted, and walked, by a damp soft footpath in a garden where a
neglected fountain had overflowed, to the door of the house. It was not opened
immediately, in answer to the ringing of the bell, and one of my two conductors
struck the man who opened it, with his heavy riding glove, across the face.
"There
was nothing in this action to attract my particular attention, for I had seen
common people struck more commonly than dogs. But, the other of the two, being
angry likewise, struck the man in like manner with his arm; the look and
bearing of the brothers were then so exactly alike, that I then first perceived
them to be twin brothers.
"From
the time of our alighting at the outer gate (which we found locked, and which
one of the brothers had opened to admit us, and had relocked), I had heard
cries proceeding from an upper chamber. I was conducted to this chamber
straight, the cries growing louder as we ascended the stairs, and I found a
patient in a high fever of the brain, lying on a bed.
"The
patient was a woman of great beauty, and young; assuredly not much past twenty.
Her hair was torn and ragged, and her arms were bound to her sides with sashes
and handkerchiefs. I noticed that these bonds were all portions of a gentleman's
dress. On one of them, which was a fringed scarf for a dress of ceremony, I saw
the armorial bearings of a Noble, and the letter E.
"I
saw this, within the first minute of my contemplation of the patient; for, in her
restless strivings she had turned over on her face on the edge of the bed, had
drawn the end of the scarf into her mouth, and was in danger of suffocation. My
first act was to put out my hand to relieve her breathing; and in moving the
scarf aside, the embroidery in the corner caught my sight.
"I
turned her gently over, placed my hands upon her breast to calm her and keep
her down, and looked into her face. Her eyes were dilated and wild, and she
constantly uttered piercing shrieks, and repeated the words, `My husband, my
father, and my brother!' and then counted up to twelve, and said, `Hush!' For
an instant, and no more, she would pause to listen, and then the piercing
shrieks would begin again, and she would repeat the cry, `My husband, my
father, and my brother!' and would count up to twelve, and say, `Hush!' There
was no variation in the order, or the manner. There was no cessation, but the
regular moment's pause, in the utterance of these sounds.
"`How
long,' I asked, `has this lasted?'
"To
distinguish the brothers, I will call them the elder and the younger; by the
elder, I mean him who exercised the most authority. It was the elder who
replied, `Since about this hour last night.'
"`She
has a husband, a father, and a brother?'
"`A
brother.'
"`I
do not address her brother?'
"He
answered with great contempt, `No.'
"`She
has some recent association with the number twelve?'
"The
younger brother impatiently rejoined, `With twelve o'clock?'
"`See,
gentlemen,' said I, still keeping my hands upon her breast, 'how useless I am,
as you have brought me! If I had known what I was coming to see, I could have
come provided. As it is, time must be lost. There are no medicines to be
obtained in this lonely place.'
"The
elder brother looked to the younger, who said haughtily, `There is a case of
medicines here;' and brought it from a closet, and put it on the table.
*
* * *
"I
opened some of the bottles, smelt them, and put the stoppers to my lips. If I
had wanted to use anything save narcotic medicines that were poisons in
themselves, I would not have administered any of those.
"`Do
you doubt them?' asked the younger brother.
"`You
see, monsieur, I am going to use them,' I replied, and said no more.
"I
made the patient swallow, with great difficulty, and after many efforts, the
dose that I desired to give. As I intended to repeat it after a while, and as
it was necessary to watch its influence, I then sat down by the side of the
bed. There was a timid and suppressed woman in attendance (wife of the man
down-stairs), who had retreated into a corner. The house was damp and decayed,
indifferently furnished--evidently, recently occupied and temporarily used.
Some thick old hangings had been nailed up before the windows, to deaden the
sound of the shrieks. They continued to be uttered in their regular succession,
with the cry, `My husband, my father, and my brother!' the counting up to
twelve, and `Hush!' The frenzy was so violent, that I had not unfastened the
bandages restraining the arms; but, I had looked to them, to see that they were
not painful. The only spark of encouragement in the case, was, that my hand
upon the sufferer's breast had this much soothing influence, that for minutes
at a time it tranquillised the figure. It had no effect upon the cries; no
pendulum could be more regular.
"For
the reason that my hand had this effect (I assume), I had sat by the side of
the bed for half an hour, with the two brothers looking on, before the elder
said:
"`There
is another patient.'
"I
was startled, and asked, `Is it a pressing case?'
"`You
had better see,' he carelessly answered; and took up a light.
*
* * *
"The
other patient lay in a back room across a second staircase, which was a species
of loft over a stable. There was a low plastered ceiling to a part of it; the
rest was open, to the ridge of the tiled roof, and there were beams across. Hay
and straw were stored in that portion of the place, fagots for firing, and a
heap of apples in sand. I had to pass through that part, to get at the other.
My memory is circumstantial and unshaken. I try it with these details, and I
see them all, in this my cell in the Bastille, near the close of the tenth year
of my captivity, as I saw them all that night.
"On
some hay on the ground, with a cushion thrown under his head, lay a handsome
peasant boy--a boy of not more than seventeen at the most. He lay on his back,
with his teeth set, his right hand clenched on his breast, and his glaring eyes
looking straight upward. I could not see where his wound was, as I kneeled on
one knee over him; but, I could see that he was dying of a wound from a sharp
point.
"`I
am a doctor, my poor fellow,' said
"`I
do not want it examined,' he answered; `let it be.'
"It
was under his hand, and I soothed him to let me move his hand away. The wound
was a sword-thrust, received from twenty to twenty- four hours before, but no
skill could have saved him if it had been looked to without delay. He was then
dying fast. As I turned my eyes to the elder brother, I saw him looking down at
this handsome boy whose life was ebbing out, as if he were a wounded bird, or
hare, or rabbit; not at all as if he were a fellow-creature.
"`How
has this been done, monsieur?' said I.
"`A
crazed young common dog! A serf! Forced my brother to draw upon him, and has
fallen by my brother's sword--like a gentleman.'
"There
was no touch of pity, sorrow, or kindred humanity, in this answer. The speaker seemed
to acknowledge that it was inconvenient to have that different order of
creature dying there, and that it would have been better if he had died in the
usual obscure routine of his vermin kind. He was quite incapable of any
compassionate feeling about the boy, or about his fate.
"The
boy's eyes had slowly moved to him as he had spoken, and they now slowly moved
to me.
"`Doctor,
they are very proud, these Nobles; but we common dogs are proud too, sometimes.
They plunder us, outrage us, beat us, kill us; but we have a little pride left,
sometimes. She--have you seen her, Doctor?'
"The
shrieks and the cries were audible there, though subdued by the distance. He
referred to them, as if she were lying in our presence.
"I
said, `I have seen her.'
"`She
is my sister, Doctor. They have had their shameful rights, these Nobles, in the
modesty and virtue of our sisters, many years, but we have had good girls among
us. I know it, and have heard my father say so. She was a good girl. She was
betrothed to a good young man, too: a tenant of his. We were all tenants of
his--that man's who stands there. The other is his brother, the worst of a bad
race.'
"It
was with the greatest difficulty that the boy gathered bodily force to speak;
but, his spirit spoke with a dreadful emphasis.
"`We
were so robbed by that man who stands there, as all we common dogs are by those
superior Beings--taxed by him without mercy, obliged to work for him without
pay, obliged to grind our corn at his mill, obliged to feed scores of his tame
birds on our wretched crops, and forbidden for our lives to keep a single tame
bird of our own, pillaged and plundered to that degree that when we chanced to
have a bit of meat, we ate it in fear, with the door barred and the shutters
closed, that his people should not see it and take it from us--I say, we were
so robbed, and hunted, and were made so poor, that our father told us it was a
dreadful thing to bring a child into the world, and that what we should most
pray for, was, that our women might be barren and our miserable race die out!'
"I
had never before seen the sense of being oppressed, bursting forth like a fire.
I had supposed that it must be latent in the people somewhere; but, I had never
seen it break out, until I saw it in the dying boy.
"`Nevertheless,
Doctor, my sister married. He was ailing at that time, poor fellow, and she
married her lover, that she might tend and comfort him in our cottage--our
dog-hut, as that man would call it. She had not been married many weeks, when
that man's brother saw her and admired her, and asked that man to lend her to
him--for what are husbands among us! He was willing enough, but my sister was
good and virtuous, and hated his brother with a hatred as strong as mine. What
did the two then, to persuade her husband to use his influence with her, to
make her willing?'
"The
boy's eyes, which had been fixed on mine, slowly turned to the looker-on, and I
saw in the two faces that all he said was true. The two opposing kinds of pride
confronting one another, I can see, even in this Bastille; the gentleman's, all
negligent indifference; the peasants, all trodden-down sentiment, and
passionate revenge.
"`You
know, Doctor, that it is among the Rights of these Nobles to harness us common
dogs to carts, and drive us. They so harnessed him and drove him. You know that
it is among their Rights to keep us in their grounds all night, quieting the
frogs, in order that their noble sleep may not be disturbed. They kept him out
in the unwholesome mists at night, and ordered him back into his harness in the
day. But he was not persuaded. No! Taken out of harness one day at noon, to
feed--if he could find food--he sobbed twelve times, once for every stroke of
the bell, and died on her bosom.'
"Nothing
human could have held life in the boy but his determination to tell all his
wrong. He forced back the gathering shadows of death, as he forced his clenched
right hand to remain clenched, and to cover his wound.
"`Then,
with that man's permission and even with his aid, his brother took her away; in
spite of what I know she must have told his brother--and what that is, will not
be long unknown to you, Doctor, if it is now--his brother took her away--for
his pleasure and diversion, for a little while. I saw her pass me on the road. When
I took the tidings home, our father's heart burst; he never spoke one of the
words that filled it. I took my young sister (for I have another) to a place
beyond the reach of this man, and where, at least, she will never be HIS
vassal. Then, I tracked the brother here, and last night climbed in--a common
dog, but sword in hand.--Where is the loft window? It was somewhere here?'
"The
room was darkening to his sight; the world was narrowing around him. I glanced about
me, and saw that the hay and straw were trampled over the floor, as if there
had been a struggle.
"`She
heard me, and ran in. I told her not to come near us till he was dead. He came
in and first tossed me some pieces of money; then struck at me with a whip. But
I, though a common dog, so struck at him as to make him draw. Let him break
into as many pieces as he will, the sword that he stained with my common blood;
he drew to defend himself--thrust at me with all his skill for his life.'
"My
glance had fallen, but a few moments before, on the fragments of a broken
sword, lying among the hay. That weapon was a gentleman's. In another place,
lay an old sword that seemed to have been a soldier's.
"`Now,
lift me up, Doctor; lift me up. Where is he?'
"`He
is not here,' I said, supporting the boy, and thinking that he referred to the
brother.
"`He!
Proud as these nobles are, he is afraid to see me. Where is the man who was
here? turn my face to him.'
"I
did so, raising the boy's head against my knee. But, invested for the moment
with extraordinary power, he raised himself completely: obliging me to rise
too, or I could not have still supported him.
"`Marquis,'
said the boy, turned to him with his eyes opened wide, and his right hand
raised, `in the days when all these things are to be answered for, I summon you
and yours, to the last of your bad race, to answer for them. I mark this cross
of blood upon you, as a sign that I do it. In the days when all these things
are to be answered for, I summon your brother, the worst of the bad race, to
answer for them separately. I mark this cross of blood upon him, as a sign that
I do it.'
"Twice,
he put his hand to the wound in his breast, and with his forefinger drew a
cross in the air. He stood for an instant with the finger yet raised, and as it
dropped, he dropped with it, and I laid him down dead.
*
* * *
"When
I returned to the bedside of the young woman, I found her raving in precisely
the same order of continuity. I knew that this might last for many hours, and
that it would probably end in the silence of the grave.
"I
repeated the medicines I had given her, and I sat at the side of the bed until
the night was far advanced. She never abated the piercing quality of her
shrieks, never stumbled in the distinctness or the order of her words. They
were always `My husband, my father, and my brother! One, two, three, four,
five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Hush!'
"This
lasted twenty-six hours from the time when I first saw her. I had come and gone
twice, and was again sitting by her, when she began to falter. I did what
little could be done to assist that opportunity, and by-and-bye she sank into a
lethargy, and lay like the dead.
"It
was as if the wind and rain had lulled at last, after a long and fearful storm.
I released her arms, and called the woman to assist me to compose her figure
and the dress she had to. It was then that I knew her condition to be that of
one in whom the first expectations of being a mother have arisen; and it was
then that I lost the little hope I had had of her.
"`Is
she dead?' asked the Marquis, whom I will still describe as the elder brother,
coming booted into the room from his horse.
"`Not
dead,' said I; `but like to die.'
"`What
strength there is in these common bodies!' he said, looking down at her with
some curiosity.
"`There
is prodigious strength,' I answered him, `in sorrow and despair.'
"He
first laughed at my words, and then frowned at them. He moved a chair with his
foot near to mine, ordered the woman away, and said in a subdued voice,
"`Doctor,
finding my brother in this difficulty with these hinds, I recommended that your
aid should be invited. Your reputation is high, and, as a young man with your
fortune to make, you are probably mindful of your interest. The things that you
see here, are things to be seen, and not spoken of.'
"I
listened to the patient's breathing, and avoided answering.
"`Do
you honour me with your attention, Doctor?'
"`Monsieur,'
said I, `in my profession, the communications of patients are always received
in confidence.' I was guarded in my answer, for I was troubled in my mind with
what I had heard and seen.
"Her
breathing was so difficult to trace, that I carefully tried the pulse and the
heart. There was life, and no more. Looking round as I resumed my seat, I found
both the brothers intent upon me.
*
* * *
"I
write with so much difficulty, the cold is so severe, I am so fearful of being
detected and consigned to an underground cell and total darkness, that I must
abridge this narrative. There is no confusion or failure in my memory; it can
recall, and could detail, every word that was ever spoken between me and those
brothers.
"She
lingered for a week. Towards the last, I could understand some few syllables
that she said to me, by placing my ear close to her lips. She asked me where
she was, and I told her; who I was, and I told her. It was in vain that I asked
her for her family name. She faintly shook her head upon the pillow, and kept her
secret, as the boy had done.
"I
had no opportunity of asking her any question, until I had told the brothers
she was sinking fast, and could not live another day. Until then, though no one
was ever presented to her consciousness save the woman and myself, one or other
of them had always jealously sat behind the curtain at the head of the bed when
I was there. But when it came to that, they seemed careless what communication
I might hold with her; as if--the thought passed through my mind--I were dying
too.
"I
always observed that their pride bitterly resented the younger brother's (as I
call him) having crossed swords with a peasant, and that peasant a boy. The
only consideration that appeared to affect the mind of either of them was the
consideration that this was highly degrading to the family, and was ridiculous.
As often as I caught the younger brother's eyes, their expression reminded me
that he disliked me deeply, for knowing what I knew from the boy. He was
smoother and more polite to me than the elder; but I saw this. I also saw that
I was an incumbrance in the mind of the elder, too.
"My
patient died, two hours before midnight--at a time, by my watch, answering
almost to the minute when I had first seen her. I was alone with her, when her forlorn
young head drooped gently on one side, and all her earthly wrongs and sorrows
ended.
"The
brothers were waiting in a room down-stairs, impatient to ride away. I had
heard them, alone at the bedside, striking their boots with their riding-whips,
and loitering up and down.
"`At
last she is dead?' said the elder, when I went in.
"`She
is dead,' said I.
"`I
congratulate you, my brother,' were his words as he turned round.
"He
had before offered me money, which I had postponed taking. He now gave me a
rouleau of gold. I took it from his hand, but laid it on the table. I had
considered the question, and had resolved to accept nothing.
"`Pray
excuse me,' said
"They
exchanged looks, but bent their heads to me as I bent mine to them, and we
parted without another word on either side.
*
* * *
"I
am weary, weary, weary-worn down by misery. I cannot read what I have written
with this gaunt hand.
"Early
in the morning, the rouleau of gold was left at my door in a little box, with
my name on the outside. From the first, I had anxiously considered what I ought
to do. I decided, that day, to write privately to the Minister, stating the
nature of the two cases to which I had been summoned, and the place to which I
had gone: in effect, stating all the circumstances. I knew what Court influence
was, and what the immunities of the Nobles were, and I expected that the matter
would never be heard of; but, I wished to relieve my own mind. I had kept the
matter a profound secret, even from my wife; and this, too, I resolved to state
in my letter. I had no apprehension whatever of my real danger; but I was
conscious that there might be danger for others, if others were compromised by
possessing the knowledge that I possessed.
"I
was much engaged that day, and could not complete my letter that night. I rose
long before my usual time next morning to finish it. It was the last day of the
year. The letter was lying before me just completed, when I was told that a
lady waited, who wished to see me.
*
* * *
"I
am growing more and more unequal to the task I have set myself. It is so cold,
so dark, my senses are so benumbed, and the gloom upon me is so dreadful.
"The
lady was young, engaging, and handsome, but not marked for long life. She was
in great agitation. She presented herself to me as the wife of the Marquis St.
Evremonde. I connected the title by which the boy had addressed the elder
brother, with the initial letter embroidered on the scarf, and had no
difficulty in arriving at the conclusion that I had seen that nobleman very
lately.
"My
memory is still accurate, but I cannot write the words of our conversation. I
suspect that I am watched more closely than I was, and I know not at what times
I may be watched. She had in part suspected, and in part discovered, the main
facts of the cruel story, of her husband's share in it, and my being resorted
to. She did not know that the girl was dead. Her hope had been, she said in
great distress, to show her, in secret, a woman's sympathy. Her hope had been
to avert the wrath of Heaven from a House that had long been hateful to the
suffering many.
"She
had reasons for believing that there was a young sister living, and her
greatest desire was, to help that sister. I could tell her nothing but that
there was such a sister; beyond that, I knew nothing. Her inducement to come to
me, relying on my confidence, had been the hope that I could tell her the name
and place of abode. Whereas, to this wretched hour I am ignorant of both.
*
* * *
"These
scraps of paper fail me. One was taken from me, with a warning, yesterday. I
must finish my record to-day.
"She
was a good, compassionate lady, and not happy in her marriage. How could she
be! The brother distrusted and disliked her, and his influence was all opposed
to her; she stood in dread of him, and in dread of her husband too. When I
handed her down to the door, there was a child, a pretty boy from two to three
years old, in her carriage.
"`For
his sake, Doctor,' she said, pointing to him in tears, `I would do all I can to
make what poor amends I can. He will never prosper in his inheritance
otherwise. I have a presentiment that if no other innocent atonement is made
for this, it will one day be required of him. What I have left to call my
own--it is little beyond the worth of a few jewels--I will make it the first
charge of his life to bestow, with the compassion and lamenting of his dead
mother, on this injured family, if the sister can be discovered.'
"She
kissed the boy, and said, caressing him, `It is for thine own dear sake. Thou
wilt be faithful, little Charles?' The child answered her bravely, `Yes!' I
kissed her hand, and she took him in her arms, and went away caressing him. I
never saw her more.
"As
she had mentioned her husband's name in the faith that I knew it, I added no
mention of it to my letter. I sealed my letter, and, not trusting it out of my
own hands, delivered it myself that day.
"That
night, the last night of the year, towards nine o'clock, a man in a black dress
rang at my gate, demanded to see me, and softly followed my servant, Ernest
Defarge, a youth, up-stairs. When my servant came into the room where I sat
with my wife--O my wife, beloved of my heart! My fair young English wife!--we
saw the man, who was supposed to be at the gate, standing silent behind him.
"An
urgent case in the Rue St. Honore, he said. It would not detain me, he had a
coach in waiting.
"It
brought me here, it brought me to my grave. When I was clear of the house, a
black muffler was drawn tightly over my mouth from behind, and my arms were
pinioned. The two brothers crossed the road from a dark corner, and identified
me with a single gesture. The Marquis took from his pocket the letter I had
written, showed it me, burnt it in the light of a lantern that was held, and
extinguished the ashes with his foot. Not a word was spoken. I was brought
here, I was brought to my living grave.
"If
it had pleased GOD to put it in the hard heart of either of the brothers, in
all these frightful years, to grant me any tidings of my dearest wife--so much
as to let me know by a word whether alive or dead--I might have thought that He
had not quite abandoned them. But, now I believe that the mark of the red cross
is fatal to them, and that they have no part in His mercies. And them and their
descendants, to the last of their race, I, Alexandre Manette, unhappy prisoner,
do this last night of the year 1767, in my unbearable agony, denounce to the
times when all these things shall be answered for. I denounce them to Heaven
and to earth."
A
terrible sound arose when the reading of this document was done. A sound of
craving and eagerness that had nothing articulate in it but blood. The
narrative called up the most revengeful passions of the time, and there was not
a head in the nation but must have dropped before it.
Little
need, in presence of that tribunal and that auditory, to show how the Defarges
had not made the paper public, with the other captured Bastille memorials borne
in procession, and had kept it, biding their time. Little need to show that
this detested family name had long been anathematised by Saint Antoine, and was
wrought into the fatal register. The man never trod ground whose virtues and
services would have sustained him in that place that day, against such
denunciation.
And
all the worse for the doomed man, that the denouncer was a well-known citizen,
his own attached friend, the father of his wife. One of the frenzied aspirations
of the populace was, for imitations of the questionable public virtues of
antiquity, and for sacrifices and self-immolations on the people's altar.
Therefore when the President said (else had his own head quivered on his
shoulders), that the good physician of the Republic would deserve better still
of the Republic by rooting out an obnoxious family of Aristocrats, and would
doubtless feel a sacred glow and joy in making his daughter a widow and her
child an orphan, there was wild excitement, patriotic fervour, not a touch of
human sympathy.
"Much
influence around him, has that Doctor?" murmured Madame Defarge, smiling
to The Vengeance. "Save him now, my Doctor, save him!"
At
every juryman's vote, there was a roar. Another and another. Roar and roar.
Unanimously
voted. At heart and by descent an Aristocrat, an enemy of the Republic, a
notorious oppressor of the People. Back to the Conciergerie, and Death within
four-and-twenty hours!