251: 244 Death of Marat 251: 244 Death of Marat Marat’s apartnt had changed hands several tis already.
In fact, so had long since offered their solicitations, proposing to hand over to him a noble’s residence that had just recently seen its master executed, servants and all.
But Marat refused.
It wasn’t that he was fastidious about cleanliness or unwilling to live comfortably; it was mainly because Robespierre, the Chairman, still lived in the dilapidated apartnt he had first rented.
The Incorruptible remained as austere as he was at the start of the revolution, residing in a rundown apartnt, clothed in that old green coat—an item Marat had failed many tis to convince him to replace.
Frost, the foremost of the four giants of the Jacobin leadership, was a military man who usually lived in the barracks donning a military uniform.
Although of late he had transferred the barracks into the opulent Versailles Palace, he had a sound reason: the only place with enough vacant spaces to house such a multitude of troops was none other than the long-deserted Versailles Palace.
With Frost and Robespierre as models, it would not look good for other Jacobins to life too comfortably.
Nevertheless, Marat still improved his living conditions sowhat for himself, such as acquiring a large bathtub.
For the technological standards of the era, such a large bathtub would not co cheap, and it was beyond what an ordinary commoner could afford.
Every day, Marat would comfortably soak in a hot bath, savoring the bliss of life.
This day was no exception, as Marat settled into the hot water, then picked up the docunt from the chair beside the bathtub.
Yes, even at such monts of enjoying life, the Friend of the People carried on with his work.
It was just then that the voice of the landlady called up from downstairs: “Mr.
Marat, there’s a young lady here to report remnants of the Girondists in the area of Conn!”
Marat: “Another liberty-loving inforr?
Let her in!
Oh no, wait, I am currently bathing, it might be inconvenient to see her, have her wait with you a bit…”
Before he could finish speaking, Marat heard shouting from downstairs: “You cannot go up, miss!”
It was the Guard assigned to Marat by Frost.
For so reason, Frost always felt that Marat was in danger, and had hence personally designated soldiers he trusted to serve as Marat’s guards.
But Marat wasn’t particularly fond of the troops sent by Frost.
He felt aside from their blind adoration of Frost, they had no noteworthy qualities, not even understanding how great Frost’s deeds were.
Therefore, Marat spoke in a stern voice: “If the young lady does not mind that I am taking a bath, then let her co up!
I am the Friend of the People; I will not refuse the public’s visit due to personal inconvenience!”
The voice of the soldier below died down, replaced by a woman’s voice: “Did you hear that?
Mr.
Marat has allowed to see him!”
Then ca the sound of heavy footsteps as the lady ascended the stairs, pushing open the door on the second floor.
Marat looked towards the entrance.
The visitor was a beautiful lady in a blue-striped long dress.
Upon seeing her, Marat’s expression softened: “It appears those Girondists are indeed unpopular, to the extent that such an elegant and beautiful lady as yourself would report on them, even willing to et with in such an indecent circumstance.”
The lady nodded: “Indeed, I despise them with all my being!
My na is Charlotte de Corday, from Almon in Normandy.”
Marat: “So you are a young noblewoman.
In the current situation, it’s best not to ntion the ‘de’ in your na.”
In French nas, the “de” typically signifies a mark of nobility; of course, so of the greater nobles took little care for such title and would drop it for convenience.
But now, the nobles couldn’t wait to hide the fact that they were ever nobles, bury it underground, never to be known by others.
Charlotte de Corday nodded, “Thank you for the reminder.”
“Are you here to denounce the remnants of the Girondists?” Marat went straight to the point, “Do you have a list?”
Kodai nodded, “Yes, I have brought it with , here.”
She took a list from a hidden pocket in her clothes and spread it out to hand to Marat.
Marat put the docunt in his hand aside, took the list, unfolded it, and said, “I hope you can forgive the rudeness of the soldier downstairs.
The guard was not my idea, it was my friend Frost who insisted on assigning a guard.
“It seems he is very worried about , really, there’s no need.”
Kodai responded sowhat absently: “Mhm, it’s fine.
The guard only stopped from coming up, he did not do anything rude.”
“That’s good.
Let’s see who you are reporting…
My God, there are eighteen of them!
You have truly made a great contribution to the revolution!
Today, France has eighteen fewer enemies!
We must arrange a trial imdiately, and then send them to the guillotine!”
Kodai asked, “Just like that?
Because I reported them, because I gave a list, they are deed guilty?
Shouldn’t there be more evidence?”
Marat nodded, “You are correct, normally more evidence is needed, but these are extraordinary tis.
Every Girondist is a traitor and we must take decisive action against anyone associated with the Girondists!
“Haven’t they done enough harm already?
Look what they have turned our country into!
If it wasn’t for them, how could things have beco so terrible!”
With that, Marat picked up the pen from the stool beside the bathtub and wrote annotations on the list Kodai provided: “These remnants of the Girondists must be imdiately sent to the guillotine.”
Watching all this, Kodai seed to have finally made up her mind.
She pulled out a small knife from her bosom.
Marat, his attention fully on the list, did not see the glint of the knife as he signed his na and said to Kodai, “Madam, rest assured, these traitors will receive the punishnt they deserve, they won’t live much longer…”
“Damn you!” Kodai shouted as she plunged the knife into Marat’s chest.
Marat looked at Kodai with a face full of astonishnt.
Kodai let go of the knife, stepped back, and leaned against the wall of the room, gasping for breath.
Marat looked down, stunned at the knife stuck in his chest, and then with effort squeezed out a sentence from his throat: “No wonder Frost, kept insisting on giving bodyguards…”
Then his hand holding the pen slid down, drooping at the edge of the bathtub, with the feather pen sliding to the floor.
Kodai looked at the lifeless eyes of Marat, struggling to calm her breathing.
“Forgive ,” she said, “I agree with the ideals of the republic, but I think everything has gone too far now.
I’m sorry…
really, I’m sorry…”
With that, Kodai covered her face with her hands and began to sob.
At that mont, the guard who noticed a strange noise inside started desperately knocking on the door: “Mr.
Marat!
Mr.
Marat, are you okay?
There was a loud noise just now!
Mr.
Marat!”
Kodai did not move, quietly waiting for the fate that belonged to her to arrive.
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