I went home in a state of delirious ecstasy such as I had never experienced. Was it the consciousness of a generous action, or was it love for this adorable creature? I know not whether I slept or woke. I only know that all the harmonies of nature were singing within me; that the night seemed endless, and the day eternal; I know that though I wished to speed the time, I did not wish to lose a moment of the days still to come. The next day I was in the Rue Ferou at nine o'clock. At half-past nine Solange made her appearance. She approached me and threw her arms around my neck. "Saved!" she said; "my father is saved! And this I owe you. Oh, how I love you!" Two weeks later Solange received a letter announcing her father's safe arrival in England. The next day I brought her a passport. When Solange received it she burst into tears. "You do not love me!" she exclaimed. "I love you better than my life," I replied; "but I pledged your father my word, and I must keep it." "Then, I will break mine," she said. "Yes, Albert; if you have the heart to let me go, I have not the courage to leave you." Alas, she remained! Three months had passed since that night on which we talked of her escape, and in all that time not a word of parting had passed her lips. Solange had taken lodgings in the Rue Turenne. I had rented them in her name. I knew no other, while she always addressed me as Albert. I had found her a place as teacher in a young ladies' seminary solely to withdraw her from the espionage of the revolutionary police, which had become more scrutinizing than ever. Sundays we passed together in the small dwelling, from the bedroom of which we could see the spot where we had first met. We exchanged letters daily, she writing to me under the name of Solange, and I to her under that of Albert. Those three months were the happiest of my life. In the meantime I was making some interesting experiments suggested by one of the guillotiniers. I had obtained permission to make certain scientific tests with the bodies and heads of those who perished on the scaffold. Sad to say, available subjects were not wanting. Not a day passed but thirty or forty persons were guillotined, and blood flowed so copiously on the Place de la Révolution that it became necessary to dig a trench three feet deep around the scaffolding. This trench was covered with deals. One of them loosened under the feet of an eight-year-old lad, who fell into the abominable pit and was drowned. For self-evident reasons I said nothing to Solange of the studies that occupied my attention during the day. In the beginning my occupation had inspired me with pity and loathing, but as time wore on I said: "These studies are for the good of humanity," for I hoped to convince the lawmakers of the wisdom of abolishing capital punishment.