A Place of Greater Safety: A Novel

say such things? Young Deputy Philippeaux asks the Convention to request Danton to stay on in the ministry—reasonable. Danton refuses—reasonable. Then he has to add that if the Convention wants Roland to stay in office it had better ask his wife first. That was a sharp, personal thing to say, in front of so many people, and naturally they make personal attacks in their turn. Now they are talking about Lucile and Danton.”

“That’s nothing new.”

“Why do you allow it to be said? Is it true?”

“I thought you were immune to the newspapers, after the business of Annette and the Abbe Terray.”

“That was the most preposterous fabrication—this is something that people believe. Can you possibly like what it implies about you?”

“What is that?”

“Simply that Danton can do what he likes, that you can’t stand up to him.”

“I can’t,” Camille muttered.

“They mention other men besides Danton. I don’t want this said of Lucile. You should make her see …”

“She likes to live up to a certain reputation, without ever quite deserving it.”

“Why? If it is not true, why does she give cause for such rumors? You neglect her, I think.”

“No, that’s not it. We quite enjoy ourselves, really. But Claude, please don’t shout at me. I’ve had a terrible day. During Robespierre’s speech—”

A head appeared round the door; servants were so casual these days. “Monsieur, Citizen Robespierre’s here.”

Robespierre had not called often, since his farcical engagement to Adele. But he was welcome; Monsieur retained his good opinion. Claude hurried forward to greet him; the servant, having thoroughly muddled the forms of address, ducked out and slammed the door. “Robespierre,” Claude said, “I am glad to see you. Would you help us re-establish some communication?”

“My father-in-law is possessed by a horror of scandal.”

“I think you,” Claude said simply, “are possessed by a devil.”

“Let me see,” Robespierre said. He was in a high old mood, quite unexpected, so elevated that he was near to smothered giggles. “Asmodeus?”

“Asmodeus was a seraphim, when he started,” Camille said.

“So were you. Now, let’s have it—what was it made you run out on my speech?”

“Nothing. I mean, I misunderstood something you said, and I made a remark, and they all jumped on me.”

“Yes, I know. They’re all very sorry.”

“Not Saint-Just.”

“No—well—Saint-Just is very decided in his views, he won’t permit any wavering.”

“Permit? For Christ’s sake, I don’t need any permission from him. He said I was a liability. What right has someone to walk into a revolution that was made before he came and call other people a liability?”

“Don’t yell at me, Camille. He had a right to express his opinion, I suppose.”

“But I haven’t?”

“No one has taken your right away—they’ve just shouted at you for exercising it. Camille is morbidly sensitive,” he said cheerfully to Duplessis.

“I could wish he were more sensitive on certain matters.” He nodded towards the newspapers. Robespierre seemed confused. He took off his glasses. His eyes were red-rimmed. Claude wondered at his patience, his equanimity: at his finding time for all this.

“Try to—suppress this gossip, of course,” Robespierre said. “Well, not suppress, exactly. That sounds as if there were some truth in it. Must all behave very discreetly.”

“So as not to attract attention to our sins,” Camille said.

“I must take Camille away,” Robespierre said to Claude. “Don’t let the newspapers spoil your peace of mind.”

“Do you imagine I have any great amount to spoil?” He rose to see them out. “Will you be at Bourg-la-Reine this weekend?”

“Bourg-la-Republique,” Camille said. “Good patriots don’t have weekends.”

“Oh, you can have a weekend if you want to,” Robespierre said.

“I wish you’d join us,” Claude said. “But I suppose not.”

“I am very busy just now. This business with Louvet has wasted my time.”

And you would not be allowed to come, Camille thought, not without Eleonore and Mother as chaperone to Eleonore, and Charlotte as chaperone to Mother, and Babette because she would scream if denied the treat, and Victoire because it wasn’t fair to leave her at home. “Shall I come?” he asked his father-in-law.

“Yes. Lucile needs the fresh air, and you, I suppose, need a pause from contention.”

“And you are offering me one?”

Claude raised the ghost of a smile for him.

“What