They were not young and both, if they were honest, missed their beds. They’d managed to stay awake by playing cards and talking. Citizen Frenet was a fervent sans-culotte, passionate about the Revolution and the Republic. Citizen Gabet had been a little less so since the awful business of his wife’s niece, who two weeks previously had been taken to the guillotine on a trumped-up charge of conspiracy. It had frightened him, making him realise no one was safe. Frenet had little sympathy. In his eyes the Committee of Public Safety could do no wrong. ‘They would do me a great favour,’ he joked, ‘if they guillotined my wife. Now, that would be a service to the nation. I wouldn’t miss her.’ Their conversation switched to the news they had had of a colleague who had been tricked by the Silver Blade. He had had the audacity to rescue someone from the prison of La Plessis right under the guard’s nose. The guard had been sent to the guillotine for his carelessness, swearing he’d been shown all the correct papers.
