BLANCHE DE BEAULIEU. 26) 
ployed by this extraordinary and dangerous man, to exonerate his 
actions in the eyes of himself and his followers : and herein lay the 
chief secret of his popularity. He had discrimination enough to 
discover, and tact to make use of, such professions as were ealcu- 
lated to deceive and propitiate his hearers ; and he never lost an 
opportunity of so doing. His arguments were always full of spe- 
cious phrases, though destitute of convincing reasons. But it was 
only in coolly reconsidering them that those whom he addressed 
felt this; and he rarely failed to propitiate them, for the time at 
least, in his favour. 
As he finished speaking, Robespierre affixed his name to the pa- 
per, and (with a smile such as he well knew how and when to as- 
sume) held it towards the young General. Marceau took the pre- 
cious document, and warmly pressed the hand which gave it. See 
would have poured forth the thanks which rose to his lips, ut tears 
choked his utterance, and he could not articulate a word. Robes- 
pierre was the first who broke silence. ‘You must be going,” he 
said, ‘‘there is not a moment to lose. Adieu!” Marceau once 
more pressed his hand ; then flew down the stairs, and rushed into 
the street. His carriage was awaiting him with fresh horses ; and 
putting gold into the postillion’s hand, he exhorted him to use all 
the expedition in his power, and flung himself back on the seat. 
What a terrible load seemed removed from his heart! What hap- 
piness awaited him! What a calm felicity would succeed the 
stormy troubles which had so lately surrounded him! His ima- 
gination pierced into the future, and he pictured to himself the mo- 
ment when he would throw open the door of that dark cell, and 
ery, ‘‘ Blanche, you are free! I have saved you! Come, my 
Blanche, and by your love repay me the debt of life !” From time 
to time, however, a vague misgiving crossed his mind, and a cold 
shudder crept over him. Then he urges the postilions to redouble 
their speed ; promises them gold, rewards beyond their utmost ex- 
pectations. The horses tear along, striking incessant sparks of fire 
from their hoofs; and yet to his excited imagination they scarcely 
advance. No delays await him. Changes of horses are ready at 
every stage. Every thing seems to partake of the agitation which 
torments him. In a few hours he has left far behind Versailles, 
Chartres, Le Mans, La Fléche. He approaches Angers, when, all 
on a sudden, he experiences a violent and terrible shock. His car- 
riage is upset, with a tremendous crash. Wounded and bleeding, 
he springs up ; severing the traces with his sword, he leaps on the 
back of one of the horses, and continues his rapid course with more 
