He winced under them at first; but recovered his self-possession before silence was restored.
"Citizens, you have heard the confession of my fault," he resumed, turning with desperate assurance toward the audience; "now hear the atonement I have made for it at the altar of my country." He waited at the end of that sentence, until the secretary to the tribunal had done writing it down in the report book of the court.
"Transcribe faithfully to the letter!" cried Danville, pointing solemnly to the open page of the volume.

"Life and death hang on my words." The secretary took a fresh dip of ink, and nodded to show that he was ready.

Danville went on: "In these times of glory and trial for France," he proceeded, pitching his voice to a tone of deep emotion, "what are all good citizens most sacredly bound to do?
To immolate their dearest private affections and interests before their public duties! On the first attempt of my mother to violate the laws against emigration, by escaping from France, I failed in making the heroic sacrifice which inexorable patriotism demanded of me.

My situation was more terrible than the situation of Brutus sitting in judgment on his own sons.

I had not the Roman fortitude to rise equal to it.