the punishment of the youthful assassin. Simonne Evrard was being loudly
blamed for having admitted the girl into citizen Marat's room. But the
wench had looked so simple, so innocent, and she said she was the bearer
of a message from Caen. She had called twice during the day, and in the
evening the citizen himself said that he would see her. Simonne had been
for sending her away. But the citizen was peremptory. And he was so
helpless... in his bath ... name of a name, the pitiable affair!

No one paid much attention to Mole. He listened for a while to Simonne's
impassioned voice, giving her version of the affair; then he worked his
way stolidly into the bathroom.

It was some time before he succeeded in reaching the side of that awful
bath wherein lay the dead body of Jean Paul Marat. The small room was
densely packed--not with friends, for there was not a man or woman
living, except Simonne Evrard and her sisters, whom the bloodthirsty
demagogue would have called "friend"; but his powerful personality had
been a menace to many, and now they came in crowds to see that he was
really dead, that a girl's feeble hand had actually done the deed which
they themselves had only contemplated. They stood about whispering,
their heads averted from the ghastly spectacle of this miserable
creature, to whom even death had failed to lend his usual attribute of
tranquil dignity.

The tiny room was inexpressibly hot and stuffy. Hardly a breath of
outside air came in through the narrow window, which only gave on the
bedroom beyond. An evil-smelling oil-lamp swung from the low ceiling and
shed its feeble light on the upturned face of the murdered man.

Mole stood for a moment or two, silent and pensive, beside that hideous