of your age and sex could have conceived such a crime unless
instigated by some person or persons whom you are unwilling to
name."

Charlotte almost smiled. "That shows but a poor knowledge of the
human heart. It is easier to carry out such a project upon the
strength of one's own hatred than upon that of others." And then,
raising her voice, she proclaimed: "I killed one man to save a
hundred thousand; I killed a villain to save innocents; I killed
a savage Wild-beast to give repose to France. I was a Republican
before the Revolution. I never lacked for energy."

What more was there to say? Her guilt was completely established.
Her fearless self-ossession was not to be ruffled. Yet Fouquier-
Tinville, the dread prosecutor, made the attempt. Beholding her
so virginal and fair and brave, feeling perhaps that the Tribunal
had not had the best of it, he sought with a handful of
revolutionary filth to restore the balance. He rose slowly, his
ferrety eyes upon her.

"How many children have you had?" he rasped, sardonic, his tone a
slur, an insult.

Faintly her cheeks crimsoned. But her voice was composed,
disdainful, as she answered coldly:

"Have I not stated that I am not married?"

A leer, a dry laugh, a shrug from Tinville to complete the
impression he sought to convey, and he sat down again.