I leaned quietly upon a table on which were all the judges' papers. I learned afterward that my manner was considered haughty. No sentence was pronounced upon me, and at last I told them that the unparalleled miseries I had endured gave me a right to justice from them. Legendre seemed somewhat moved, but I went out of his presence a moment after feeling that my cause was lost. He treated Madame de la Fayette in a most insulting manner. He told her 'that he had great fault to find with her, that he detested her husband, herself, and her name.' She replied with equal courage and nobleness 'that she would always defend her husband and that a name was not a crime.' Bourdon asked her several questions, to which she replied with firmness. Legendre finally ended this pleasant dialogue by telling her that she was an insolent creature. They decided to liberate the greater part of our companions. I retired fully persuaded that I should be again entered in the jail-book. But one of my neighbours assured me that I was on the list of those who were to be set at liberty. I received on this occasion strong proofs of the interest my companions took in my doubtful fate; I returned to my own room sure that I was to resume my fetters; I was resigned to this, as was also Madame de la Fayette. It is not nearly so hard to feel so when one has experienced many misfortunes, and when one has no hope of being restored to those one loves. I have noticed that it is better, when one is about to give up life, not to be surrounded by those who make it so dear. What one suffers for others and on one's own account is, taken together, too much to be endured.