He looked at her with eyes in which there was a faint surprise as
he sank back. Then he raised his voice for the last time.
"Help, chere amie! Help!" he cried, and was for ever silent.
The hand still grasping the pen trailed on the ground beside the
bath at the end of his long, emaciated arm. His body sank
sideways in the same direction, the head lolling nervelessly upon
his right shoulder, whilst from the great rent in his breast the
blood gushed forth, embruing the water of his bath, trickling to
the brick-paved floor, bespattering--symbolically almost--a copy
of L'Ami du Peuple, the journal to which he had devoted so much
of his uneasy life.
In answer to that cry of his came now Simonne in haste. A glance
sufficed to reveal to her the horrible event, and, like a
tigress, she sprang upon the unresisting slayer, seizing her by
the head, and calling loudly the while for assistance. Came
instantly from the anteroom Jeanne, the old cook, the Fortress of
the house, and Laurent Basse, a folder of Marat's paper; and now
Charlotte found herself confronted by four maddened, vociferous
beings, at whose hands she may well have expected to receive the
death for which she was prepared.
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