In some places, particularly at Creil-sur-Oise, gestures indicating the cutting off of the head were made to us. In a village called La Mortaye a dozen persons suddenly appeared, who came to see my heavy neighbour, and whispered to her that she would not be much longer in prison. When we reached Mesnil-Aubry we were made to get out at an inn,--that is, the women and young girls at one, and the men at another. It was Saturday. I obtained the favour of an omelette. Immediately after dinner it was demanded of us that we should pay on the spot the expenses of our removal; I refused to do this, saying truly that I had no money. Mademoiselle de Pons obeyed, and gave a hundred and ninety-two francs. The women whose husbands were in the train asked permission to go to see them while the horses were resting, but could not obtain it. The notorious Martin, of whom I have already had occasion to speak several times, came to inspect us, and placed himself at the head of our train when it started off. He was in a gilded _berline_, drawn by post horses, and seated in front was a small clerk, about twelve years old. I said to myself, 'Unfortunate child, what an education this Terrorism is!' Along the way he reviewed us as though he were a superior officer, going from end to end of our melancholy column, to see if it was coming up in order. Sometimes our horses began to trot, and we were terribly jolted. As we were approaching Paris, my side, which was pressed against the wagon, with nothing between, began to hurt me very much. My love of books, and the fear of being without them, had caused me to fill two pairs of pockets with them, and they thumped against me. If we had been obliged to go any farther I should have been compelled to change my position, but I could not make up my mind to ask any favour of the friend of Robespierre.