I have kept this letter as a specimen of Jacobin love-making. It was not signed with any name, except that of my _dévoué serviteur_; and I never knew from whom it came. It told me an answer would be called for _in person_ the day after the next; and anxiously did I await this interview--await it in horrors unspeakable. There was, however, one comfort which I derived from this letter: till it was answered, I felt assured that my husband was safe. Dreadful was the morrow: more dreadful still the day after it; for hourly now did I expect the visit of the wretch. But that day, and the next day passed, and I saw no one but my taciturn and brutal gaoler, and heard nothing but the closing of the prison doors. The next day too I expected him still in vain; but that night I marked an unusual emotion, and, as I thought, a look of alarm in my gaoler; and my wretched scanty meals were not given me till a considerable time after the usual hour. That night too I and the other prisoners, I found, were locked up two hours before the customary time. All that night I heard noises in the street of the most frightful description; and as my cell was near the front gates of the prison, I could even distinguish what the sounds were; and I heard the horrible tocsin sound to arms: I heard the report of fire-arms, I heard the shouts of the people, I heard the cry of 'Liberty,' I heard 'Down with the tyrant!' and all these mingled with execrations, shrieks, and, as I fancied, groans; while I sunk upon my knees, and committed myself in humble resignation to the awful fate which might then be involving him I loved, and which might soon reach me, and drag me from the dungeon to the scaffold! At this moment of horrible suspense and alarm, and soon after the day had risen on this theatre of blood, my door was thrown open, not by my brutal gaoler, but by De Walden and Juan! My gaoler, one of the tools of despotism, had fled; the twenty-eighth of July had freed the country from the fetters of the tyrant; he was _then_ at that moment on his way to the guillotine with his colleagues; and I, Pendarves, and hundreds else, were saved! Oh! what had not my poor servants and De Walden endured during the four days of my imprisonment! Painful as that was, they feared worse evils might ensue; while Pendarves, confined with the utmost strictness, was not allowed to see even Juan! But where was Pendarves? and why did I not see _him_, if he was indeed at liberty? De Walden looked down and replied, "He is at liberty, I know; but we have heard and seen nothing of him." By this time we had reached my home, where I was received with tears of joy by my agitated attendants. But, alas! my joy was changed into mortification and bitterness: and when my happy friends called on me to rejoice with them, I replied, in the agony of my heart, "I _am_ thankful, but I shall never rejoice again!" and for some minutes I laid my head on the table, and never spoke but by the deepest sighs.