It was amazing what the guillotine did for previously respectable revolutionary leaders, though; even Lucien could see that. It did not take an intellectual to see the irony. When Barnave was in favor, his oratory had been hailed as highly influential—the hallmark of the republic. Even the lawyers from the Gironde, whose speeches Lucien himself had admired, were being blacklisted. Without the favor of the most radical Jacobins, those revolutionaries and their golden ideals were as good as traitorous. It was perhaps something Chrétien would have seen months ago, but Lucien was only beginning to understand.
He stood silently as Jacques arranged his papers. Gnawing on his lip, Lucien shook his head. He looked more his age—more uneasy, less formal. “No, you have already been very helpful… Chrétien’s other contacts knew even less than I did.” Lucien did not care how radically his brother’s beliefs had changed; regardless of whether he was a Jacobin any longer, Chrétien would always be his brother.