"I say that you are wrong, Marat," he repeated.
Marat turned green, which was his way of growing pale.
Cimourdain added,—
"You are useful, but Robespierre and Danton are necessary. Why do you threaten them? Union, union, citizen! the people want to be united."
This coming in had the effect of cold water, and like the arrival of a stranger in midst of a family quarrel, it calmed at least the surface, if not the depths.
Cimourdain stepped towards the table.
Danton and Robespierre knew him. They had often noticed in the public tribunes of the Convention, this powerful but obscure man whom the people saluted. Robespierre, always inclined to formality, asked,—
"Citizen, how did you get in?"
"He belongs to the Evêché," replied Marat, in a voice with a strange touch of submission in it.
Marat defied the Convention, led the Commune, and feared the Evêché.
This is a law.
Mirabeau felt Robespierre moving at an unknown depth, Robespierre felt Marat moving, Marat felt Hébert moving, Hébert felt Babeuf moving. As long as the strata under-ground are quiet, the political man may walk along, but under the most revolutionary there is a subsoil, and the bravest stop in alarm when they feel beneath their feet the movement that they have caused above their heads.
To know how to distinguish the agitation arising from covetousness, from the agitation arising from principles, to fight the one and aid the other, in this lies the genius and the power of great revolutionary leaders.
Danton saw that Marat was yielding.
"Oh! Citizen Cimourdain is welcome," he said.
And he held out his hand to Cimourdain. Then he said,—
"Parbleu, let us explain the situation to Citizen Cimourdain. He comes at just the right moment. I represent the Mountain, Robespierre represents the Committee of Public Welfare, Marat represents the Commune, Cimourdain represents the Evêché. He shall be our umpire."
"So be it," said Cimourdain, solemnly and simply. "What is the question?"
