wn

men who were guarding him had withdraw themselves, after demanding in writing his protest against being arrested. She was delighted to see him, and she informed him of the measures she had taken to provide for his safety. She then hastened back to the Convention.

From the solitude of the streets she perceived it was late. Still she proceeded; but on approaching the Carousel, she found the sitting was at an end. So she went thence to call upon a friend named Pasquier, and arrange with him some means of saving her husband. He had retired to bed; he rose, however, and Madame Roland submitted her plan to him. He listened attentively to what she said, and it was agreed that they should meet again the next day. She once more stepped into her coach, and was proceeding home, when she was stopped by the sentinel who stood at his post.

"Have a little patience," said the coachman, in a whisper, turning round upon his seat, "it is the custom at this time of night."

The sentry advanced and opened the door.
"Whom have we here?" said he.

"A woman," was the reply.
"Whence come you?" he rejoined.

"From the Convention," answered Madame Roland again.

"It is very true," added the coachman, as if he was afraid the sentry might not believe her.

"Whither are you going?" again demanded

the sentinel.

"Home."

"Have you any bundles ?"

"None, as you may see."

"But the Assembly is broken up."

"Yes; to my sorrow, for I had a petition to present."

The sentinel still seemed dissatisfied, and continued to question her.

"A woman at this hour! It is very strange, very imprudent."

"It certainly is not a very common occurrence, nor is it with me a matter of choice: I must have had strong reason for it."

"But, Madame, alone ?"

“How, sir, alone? Do you not see that I have Innocence and Truth for my companions?" replied the high-spirited lady.

"Well, I must be content with your reasons.' "You are quite right," once more answered

Madame Roland, in a gentler tone, "for they are good ones;" and the dialogue concluded.

Having at length reached her home, she had ascended eight or ten steps, when she was suddenly addressed by a man who was close behind her, and who had slipped in unperceived by the porter. He begged her to conduct him to Monsieur Roland.

"To his apartment with pleasure,” she replied, "if you have anything favourable to say ; but to him it is impossible.'

"I came to let him know," said the man, "that they have absolutely determined on confining him this very evening."

"They must be wise if they accomplish their purpose," replied his heroic wife.

"I am happy to hear it," added the stranger, "for it is an honest citizen to whom you are speaking."

"Well and good," said Madame Roland in reply once more, and she proceeded up stairs, hardly knowing what opinion to form.

You may perhaps wonder why Madame Roland returned to the house when there was so much danger, and why she did not also try to escape as her husband had gone. The reason

was this; Madame Roland, as you have already partly seen, was a noble-minded and courageous woman; her disposition also was so open and generous, that she could not bear the idea of hiding herself anywhere, even from injustice; and I dare say she could hardly believe her husband's enemies would be so wicked and cruel as to take her life away, if she was quite innocent of all wrong: we shall see.

Having, on her return home, quieted the fears of her family, she took up a pen for the purpose of writing a note to her husband. Scarcely had she seated herself at her desk, when she was disturbed by a loud knocking at the door; it was about midnight, a number of people appeared, and inquired for Monsieur Roland.

"He is not at home," said his wife.

"But where can he be?" said a person having the appearance of an officer. "When will he return? you are acquainted with his habits, and can doubtless tell about what time he will be back?"

"I know not whether you have any authority to ask such questions; but this I know, nothing can compel me to answer them: as my husband left the house while I was at the Convention,

he had it not in his power to make me his confidante; this is all I have to say."

The party then withdrew, much dissatisfied, leaving a sentry at the door of Madame Roland's apartment, and a guard at that of the house. Overcome with fatigue, and determined to brave the worst, she ordered supper. She then finished her letter, and having entrusted it to the care of a faithful servant, she retired to rest. She slept soundly for about an hour, when she was awakened by a servant, and told that some gentlemen requested her to step into an adjoining room.

"I understand what it means," replied she, calmly; "go, child, I will not make them wait."

Having sprung from the bed, she was dressing, when her maid came in and expressed surprise that she should be at the pains of putting on more than a morning robe.

"When people are going abroad," she replied, "they should at least be decent."

The poor woman looking in the face of her mistress, seemed to guess her meaning; and burst into tears. Madame Roland being ready, walked into the next apartment.

"We come," said one of the party to her