"Mais, quelle bêtise! au moins dis moi son nom, qui elle est, et tout cela."[14] [Footnote 7: Alas! poor woman! she is sick to death.] [Footnote 8: Well, let me see her: I will cure her.] [Footnote 9: You! citizen? Oh no! she will never be cured.] [Footnote 10: Yes, I tell you. Where is she? I will absolutely make her acquaintance.] [Footnote 11: Impossible. She is in bed.] [Footnote 12: What does that signify?] [Footnote 13: Our ladies never receive visits in bed.] [Footnote 14: What nonsense! But tell me her name and all that.] And Juan told him that I was the relation of his benefactor; that I was in reduced circumstances, having had a bad husband; and that he and his wife had taken me to live with them, and never would desert me. "_O les braves gens!_" exclaimed he.--But what an agony I endured all this time! Afraid that this mad-headed enthusiast would really insist on paying me a visit, I ran up stairs, put on my green spectacles which Juan insisted on my buying (for he really thought me a perfect beauty, and that all who looked must love); then tied up my face in a handkerchief, pulled over it a slouch cap, and lay down on the bed, drawing the curtains round. But Alice came up to tell me the strange man was gone. He declared, however, that the next time he came he would see _la pauvre malade_. But fortunately we never saw him again, except when he stopped in company with others, and was too much taken up in laying down the law for the benefit of the human race, to remember an individual. You will not be surprised when I tell you, that slight as was my knowledge of the persons of Hébert and Anacharsis Cloots, and little as I had heard of their voices, still the circumstance of having seen their faces and heard them speak made all the difference between rejoicing at their deserved fate and regretting it. They were guillotined during the course of the next month; and I shuddered when I heard they were no more, catching myself saying, "Poor men!" very frequently during the rest of the day.