some linen and a pot of unguents from a cupboard. La Boulaye sat
up, and what time Duhamel was busy dressing his lacerated back, the
young man talked with Robespierre.

"You are going to Paris, you say, Monsieur?"

"Yes, to the States-General," answered Maximilien.

"As a deputy?" inquired Caron, with ever-heightening interest.

"As a deputy, Monsieur. My friends of Arras have elected me to the
Third Estate of Artois."

"Dieu! How I envy you!" exclaimed La Boulaye, to cry out a moment
later in the pain to which Duhamel's well-intentioned operations
were subjecting him. "I would it might be mine," he added presently,
"to take a hand in legislation, and the mending of it; for as it
stands at present it is inferior far to the lawless anarchy of the
aborigines. Among them, at least, the conditions are more normal,
they offer better balance between faculty and execution; they are
by far more propitious to happiness and order than is this broken
wreck of civilisation that we call France. It is to equality alone,"
he continued, warming to his subject, "that Nature has attached the
preservation of our social faculties, and all legislation that aims
at being efficient should be directed to the establishment of
equality. As it is, the rich will always prefer their own fortune
to that of the State, whilst the poor will never love - nor can
love - a condition of laws that leaves them in misery."

Robespierre eyed the young man in some surprise. His delivery was