Descending On France 1780
Chapter 342 - 335 I despise the dust that has constituted me.

Balas: "Long live the First Governor."

Josephine: "First Governor? What happened?"

Balas recounted everything that had just happened in Parliament in detail.

After hearing the report, Josephine exclaimed: "So Robespierre isn’t dead? This won’t do, the First Governor still treats him as a good friend, he might come back. If he returns to power, we’re finished."

Balas: "No, it shouldn’t be that bad, the First Governor has already decided to stop the Reign of Terror. Now what I should consider is how to secure a position for myself in the Cabinet. Damn FouchE and Talleyrand, both of them are likely to get a piece..."

But Josephine shook her head: "No, you’ve invested five hundred ounces of gold in the bank of the First Governor. Even if you don’t get a position, you’re still seen as an important figure in the First Governor’s camp. There are plenty of people who’ll want to curry favor with us.

"The key now is Robespierre, Robespierre must die."

Balas smirked: "Don’t worry, there will be opportunities. Right now, the First Governor will likely have him under strict protection, but once he arrives on Elba Island, there will be plenty of chances."

Josephine finally breathed a sigh of relief: "That’s good then, as soon as he gets to Elba Island, we must permanently remove this threat."

**

The execution date of Saint Just was scheduled for the day after Anning’s Cabinet appointment.

On that day, Revolution Square was crowded with people. The guillotine, which had been idle since Anning became the First Governor, was re-greased and maintained as if it was new.

Today, there was only one execution, and all the spectators were waiting for this person.

Members of the new Cabinet had already taken their seats early on the viewing platform.

The First Governor had not yet arrived, leaving the central spot on the viewing platform conspicuously empty. Similarly, another raised platform opposite the viewing stand was also vacant, reserved for the Generals.

Then a whistle sounded, and the First Governor’s cavalry appeared.

The First Governor of France, Andy Frost, rode at the very front of the procession on a pure white stallion, followed by three standard-bearers, each holding aloft the French Tricolor Flag, the Flag of the French National Guard, and a golden eagle-head staff.

A small red flag hung from the staff, featuring no emblems.

Behind the standard-bearers were the officers loyal to the First Governor, all dressed in full military uniform, looking sharp and energetic.

Following them were the former Royal Guards, now adorned with the tricolor on their black uniforms, transformed into the personal Guard of the First Governor of France.

Then came the military band, playing the Hymn of Rome.

The citizens immediately joined in with the melody of the military band, singing the Hymn of Rome.

The First Governor’s stallion, stepping in time with the rhythm of the Hymn of Rome, halted perfectly in front of the viewing platform as the last verse ended.

The crowd began to shout: "Long live the First Governor! Long live France!"

The First Governor dismounted, waved to the people, and the cheers grew even louder.

Thus, the First Governor made his way onto the viewing platform amidst the crowd’s cheers and took his reserved place.

His Generals took their places on the opposite platform.

Philip Egalite, the Minister of Internal Affairs and the First Governor’s father-in-law, who had just arrived from Marseille, took his position as the master of ceremonies and loudly announced: "The ceremony begins now, all sing the provisional national anthem."

At the first Cabinet meeting the day before, it was decided that the Hymn of Rome would be the provisional national anthem of the First French Republic, and this news had spread throughout Paris by that evening.

The band had just started playing when the entire audience sang in unison, their voices even more soaring than they had been when the First Governor made his appearance.

After the singing ended, Mr. Philip Egalite stepped forward again: "Bring forth the prisoner!"

A prison cart had been waiting at the edge of the square for a long time, and upon hearing the words of the Minister of Internal Affairs, the coachman whipped the air, producing a crisp sound.

The horses neighed long and strode forward, moving toward the guillotine in the center of the square, along the path already demarcated by the National Guard.

The crowd became excited; many hurled insults at Saint Just on the prison cart and threw assorted debris at him.

Saint Just held his head high, proudly scorning the angry crowd.

When the cart arrived in front of the guillotine, he was dragged down and pushed to the front of that terrifying execution device.

The executioner Hawthorn said with a smile: "I never would have thought that one day I’d be executing the Archangel of Terror."

Saint Just merely sneered.

At this point, Monsieur Egalite, the master of ceremonies, asked: "Prisoner Saint Just, do you have any last words?"

Saint Just spoke out loudly: "I despise this dust that I am made of!"

The First Governor’s lips twitched slightly, but he didn’t say much else.

Monsieur Egalite looked back at the First Governor and then ordered: "Carry out the execution!"

The band started a steady beat of drumming, Saint Just was swiftly bound to the guillotine, and his execution was carried out with swift mechanized precision.

**

Anning: "Remember, Moura, you must fully carry out your responsibilities on this journey."

Moura nodded: "I understand, anyone who wants to kill Robespierre will have to get past me."

Anning took a deep breath.

At that moment, Robespierre was being escorted out of the prison and just so happened to hear this exchange.

He scoffed and said: "I won’t be grateful to you for this. You should have let me die, not spend my remaining days on an island."

Anning: "I hope you can break free from your fixation. You will see that I was right. I hope you will continue to serve France and the Republic by then."

Robespierre: "Then you shouldn’t have executed Saint Just. With the death of Saint Just, there can never be a reconciliation between us. No, I should say, the moment I resolved to assassinate you, any chance of reconciliation ceased."

Anning remained silent, looking at Robespierre with sorrowful eyes.

Robespierre, growing impatient, said: "Spare me your pity! I am a warrior; I do not need sympathy from an opponent! I truly believe that not removing you is the tragedy of the Republic."

Anning: "I will prove you wrong with my actions; I will lead the Republic to a better end."

"Humph, who knows! Enough talk, let me be on my way," Robespierre said as he boarded the escort carriage himself.

Anning sighed and nodded to Moura: "Let’s depart."

Then Moura mounted his horse and with a small group of cavalry guards, the carriage carried Robespierre into the Paris night.

Meanwhile, another carriage left Paris by a different road, carrying assassins hired by Paul Balas and others with hefty sums of gold.

Thus, Robespierre’s fate marched toward its ultimate conclusion.