"What about the man who was robbed, this aristocrat you found at
Trémont?"

"Safe in Beauvais, citizen, where he is likely to remain. I put fear
into him at Trémont and he ran."

"He may come to Paris."

"Then he is easily dealt with," Sabatier answered, and went out.

He was a friend of Citizen Latour, a trusted friend; his swagger was
greater than ever as he went down the Rue Valette.

Half an hour later Raymond Latour passed along the street, avoiding
publicity rather than courting it. He walked quickly until he came to
the Rue St. Honoré, when his pace slackened a little and he grew more
thoughtful. His whole scheme was complete, and he reviewed every point
of it to make certain there was no flaw in it. He became suddenly
conscious of a man walking in front of him, one of many in the street
yet distinct from them all. He was slight, so slight that he seemed
tall, walked delicately, something feminine about him, a weak man,
perhaps, whom strong men would despise; yet heads were turned to look
after him, and a second glance found something definite and determined
in the delicate walk, something feline. He went forward noticing none,
straight forward, men of bigger bulk stepping out of his path. Latour,
whose thoughts were of self just now, not of country, went more slowly
still. He had no desire to overtake this man although he knew him well,
and dawdled until he saw him enter a cabinet-maker's shop. All Paris
knew that here Maximilian Robespierre had his lodging.