he is too generous to say any words except
such as he thinks may save me from sharing
his punishment. I refuse to be saved, unless
he is saved with me. Where he goes when
he leaves this place, I will go; what he suffers,
I will suffer; if he is to die, I believe God
will grant me the strength to die resignedly
with him! This is what I now wish to say,
as to my share in the offence charged against
my brother:—some time ago, he told me, one
day, that he had seen my husband's mother
in Paris, disguised as a poor woman; that he
had spoken to her, and forced her to acknowledge
herself. Up to this time we had all felt
certain that she had left France, because
she held old-fashioned opinions, which it is
dangerous for people to hold now; had
left France, before we came to Paris. She
told my brother that she had indeed gone
(with an old tried servant of the family to
help and protect her) as far as Marseilles;
and that, finding unforeseen difficulty there in
getting farther, she had taken it as a warning
from Providence not to desert her son, of
whom she was very passionately fond, and from
whom she had been most unwilling to depart.
Instead of waiting in exile for quieter times,
she determined to go and hide herself in
Paris, knowing her son was going there too.
She assumed the name of her old and faithful
servant, who declined to the last to leave her
unprotected; and she proposed to live in the
strictest secrecy and retirement, watching,
unknown, the career of her son, and ready at a
moment's notice to disclose herself to him,
when the settlement of public affairs might
reunite her safely to her beloved child. My
brother thought this plan full of danger both
for herself, for her son, and for the honest old
man who was risking his head for his
mistress's sake. I thought so too; and in an
evil hour, I said to Louis, 'Will you try, in
secret, to get my husband's mother away, and
see that her faithful servant makes her really
leave France this time? ' I wrongly asked
my brother to do this for a selfish reason of
my own—a reason connected with my married
life, which has not been a happy one. I had
not succeeded in gaining my husband's affection,
and was not treated kindly by him. My
brother, who has always loved me far more
dearly, I am afraid, than I have ever deserved,
my brother increased his kindness to me,
seeing me treated unkindly by my husband. This
made ill blood between them. My thought,
when I asked my brother to do for me what
I have said, was, that if we two, in secret,
saved my husband's mother, without danger
to him, from imperilling herself and her son,
we should, when the time came for speaking
of what we had done, appear to my husband
in a new and better light. I should have
shown how well I deserved his love, and
Louis would have shown how well he deserved
his brother-in-law's gratitude; and so, we
should have made home happy at last, and all
three have lived together affectionately. This
was my thought; and when I told it to my
brother, and asked him if there would be
much risk, out of his kindness and indulgence
towards me, he said ' No! ' He had so used
me to accept sacrifices for my happiness, that
I let him endanger himself to help me in my
little household plan. I repent this bitterly
now; I ask his pardon with my whole heart.
If he is acquitted, I will try to show myself
worthier of his love. If he is found guilty, I
too will go to the scaffold, and die with my
brother, who risked his life for my sake."

She ceased as quietly as she had begun;
and turned once more to her brother. As
she looked away from the court, and looked
at him, a few tears came into her eyes, and
something of the old softness of form and
gentleness of expression seemed to return to
her face. He let her take his hand; but he
seemed purposely to avoid meeting the anxious
gaze she fixed on him. His head sunk on his
breast; he drew his breath heavily; his
countenance darkened and grew distorted as
if he were suffering some sharp pang of
physical pain. He bent down a little; and, leaning
his elbow on the rail before him, covered
his face with his hand; and so quelled the
rising agony, so forced back the scalding
tears to his heart. The audience had heard
Rose in silence; and they preserved the same
tranquillity when she had done. This was a
rare tribute to a prisoner from the people of
the Reign of Terror.

The president looked round at his
colleagues, and shook his head suspiciously.

"This statement of the female prisoner's
complicates the matter very seriously," said
he. " Is there anybody in court," he added,
looking at the persons behind his chair, "who
knows where the mother of superintendent
Danville and the servant are now?"

Lomaque came forward at the appeal, and
placed himself by the table.

"Why, citizen agent," continued the
president, Iooking hard at him, " are you
overcome with the heat too?"

"The fit seemed to take him, citizen
president, when the female prisoner had made an
end of her statement," explained Magloire,
pressing forward officiously.

Lomaque gave his subordinate a look which
sent the man back directly to the shelter of
the official group; then said, in lower tones
than were customary with him,

"I have received information relative to
the mother of superintendent Danville and
the servant, and am ready to answer any
questions that may be put to me."

"Where are they now? " asked the
President.

"She and the servant are known to have
crossed the frontier, and are supposed to be on
their way to Cologne. But since they have
entered Germany, their whereabouts is
necessarily a matter of uncertainty to the
republican authorities."

"Have you any information relative to the