As I never went out till it was quite dark, the great seclusion in which I lived injured my health. Since the death of Hébert, indeed, I was not so cautious, as I could wear a hat; but while he lived, he had decreed that every head-dress was _aristocrat_, except the peasants' cap. Juan went therefore to find a lodging for me for a week or two near or in the Champs Elysées, and in so retired a spot, that with my green spectacles, and otherwise a little disguised, my guardian declared he allowed me to walk even in a morning. Alice accompanied me, and Juan promised to come and tell us every evening what was going forward. During my abode in this pretty place Juan arrived one evening a good deal agitated, and I found that he had seen Pendarves. "Did he see you?" "Oh! no: he saw no one but--" "His companion, I suppose?--Was Madame Beauvais with him?" "She was, and her little dog; and the beast would not come at her call; and then she was uneasy, and so he took up the nasty animal and carried it in his arm. I could have wrung its neck." "It is a nice clean animal," replied I, trying to speak cheerfully. "But how did he look, Juan?" "Well, madam--_too_ well!" said the faithful creature, turning away in agony to think he could look well under his circumstances. "You see he is not yet arrested," said I; "and for that I am thankful." One night, the night before we were to return to our house, Juan disappointed us and did not come at all. You, who have always lived in dear and quiet Britain, cannot form to yourself an idea of the agitation into which this little circumstance threw us. We could not fancy he was ill: that was too common-place and too natural a circumstance to occur to the heated imaginations of women accustomed as we were to tales of terror and blood; and we thought no less than that he had been suspected, denounced, arrested, and would be _jugé à mort_. What a night of misery was ours! Early in the morning, however, Alice set off for Paris, conjuring me on her knees not to come with her, as Juan thought it unsafe for me to walk in the street unprotected; and promising to come back directly if any thing alarming had happened. I therefore allowed her to depart without me; but though her not returning was a proof that all was right, according to our agreement, I was half distracted when hour succeeded to hour and she did not return; till, at last, unable to bear my suspense any longer, I set off for Paris, and reached the Place de la Revolution (as it was then called) just as an immense crowd was thronging from all parts and around me, to a spot already filled with an incalculable number of persons. In one instant I recollected that what I beheld in the midst must be the guillotine, and I tried to turn back, but it was impossible. I was hurried forward with the exulting multitude; and just as the horrible snap of the murderous engine met my now tingling ears, I heard from the shouts of the mob,