“There are still thousands upon thousands of men in France, who would sooner be the slaves of a King, than draw the breath of liberty,” answered he.

“But they can be taught the duties and feelings of men, cannot they?  They think, and feel now only as they have been brought up to think and feel.”

“Had they not been too stubborn to learn, they have had a lesson written in letters of blood, which would have long since convinced them—­if it be necessary, it must be repeated I for one will not shrink from my duty.  No though I should sink beneath the horrid task which it imposes on me.”

They both then sat silent for a while; though Robespierre had ventured to express to the girl, whom he knew to be so entirely devoted to him, a feeling somewhat akin to that of pity for his victims, he could not bear that even she should appear to throw a shadow of an imputation on the propriety and justness of his measures, although she only did so by repeating and appealing to the kindly expressions which had fallen from himself.  He had become so used to the unmeasured praise of those among whom he lived, so painfully suspicious of those who, in the remotest degree, disapproved of any of his words or deeds, so confident of himself, so distrustful of all others, that even what she had said was painful to him, and though he himself hardly knew why, yet he felt that he was displeased with her.  Eleanor, however, was altogether unconscious of having irritated his sore feelings; and relying on the kind tone of what he had said, and the confident manner in which he had spoken to her, she determined to obey the dictates of her heart, and intercede for mercy for her fellow-creatures.  Poor girl! she did not know the danger of coming near the lion’s prey.

She had heard much of the Vendeans, and though those who had spoken in her hearing of the doings of the royalist rebels were not likely to say much to excite sympathy on their behalf still she had learnt that they were true to each other, faithful to their leaders, generous to their enemies, and brave in battle.  The awful punishment to be inflicted on the doomed district had also been partially discussed in her hearing; and though the Republic had no more enthusiastic daughter than herself, her woman’s heart could not endure the idea that even the innocent children of a large province should be condemned to slaughter for their fathers’ want of patriotism.  What work so fitting for the woman whom a ruler of the people had chosen for a wife, as to implore the stern magistrate to temper justice with mercy?  In what way could she use her influence so sweetly as to ask for the lives of women and children?

And yet she felt afraid to make her innocent request.  Robespierre had never yet been offended with her.  Though he had given her counsel on almost every subject, he had never yet spoken to her one word of disapprobation still she knew that he had inspired her with fear.  She made some attempts to begin the subject, which he did not notice, for he was still brooding over the unpleasant sensation which her words had occasioned; but at last she gathered courage, and said: