Philip Brusque engaged very ardently in the political discussions that resulted in the revolution, and when Paris became the great theatre of action, he resolved to quit St. Addresse, and proceed to the metropolis, to take his share in the great drama that he felt was about to be acted. He took leave of his parents, and went to bid adieu to Emilie Bonfils, whom he had long loved, and to whom he was affianced. The parting was tender, for Emilie was well worthy of the affection of the gallant youth, and her fears were now excited for the fate of her lover. He was not only to leave her, but he was to be exposed to the convulsions, which already, like the heavings and swellings which portend the earthquake, began to be realized throughout France. But Philip’s mind was too much influenced with the spirit of the time, which, like the hot sirocco of the desert, seemed to sweep over the land, to be delayed or dissuaded. He gave his Emilie a long and ardent salute, and on foot wended his way to Paris. I have told enough of what followed, for the purposes of my story. Philip’s active mind and devoted spirit raised him to a certain degree of power and distinction in the revolution; he rode for a time on the storm, and shared in the scenes of blood and horror. He was indeed accessory to many of the atrocious executions, which, in a spirit of madness and fury, were decreed and sanctioned by the leaders. But in all this, Philip was rather insane than selfish. Indeed, he was intoxicated by the whirl of events, and he yielded to the current. At length, he became sensible of his error, but before he had the opportunity of atoning for it, he was obliged to fly for his life. He wished to see his aged parents, and his mind turned more than once to his gentle, confiding Emilie, at the village of St. Addresse. But there were many reasons for his not going to see them before his departure. The first was, that it was not safe, either for himself or them; and the next was, that he now began to consider his hands sullied with the blood of his fellow-men, in such a manner as to make him unfit for the pure affections either of his parents or his affianced Emilie. Indeed, such was the idea he had formed of the latter, and such was the true affection and reverence that he entertained towards her, and such, at the same time, was his feeling of repentance and remorse, that he shrank from the idea of attaching her to one like himself, and dragging her down from the dignity of truth and purity, to the lot of one who was sullied with crime. Accordingly, he wrote a letter to his parents and Emilie, explaining his feelings and designs, and bade farewell to his country, as we have seen. The letter he wrote did not reach its destination, but, falling into the hands of Robespierre and his associates, became the source of bitter persecution to those for whom it was intended. CHAPTER IV.