The manner in which Josephine received the news of her enemy’s death was strange and interesting. It was the day before that upon which it had been decreed that Madame de Beauharnais should be put to death. Josephine was standing at the window of her prison, calmly gazing upon the outward world, while her fellow-prisoners were weeping around, overcome with the thought of the terrible doom which awaited their loved friend. But Josephine’s fortitude did not desert her, and she was endeavoring to comfort her mourning companions, when her attention was arrested by a woman in the street below, who seemed trying to give her some information by various strange signs. At first the woman held up her robe, pointing to it several times. Josephine called out through the grated window, “_Robe?_” and the woman eagerly made a sign of assent; and picking up a stone, which in French is _pierre_, she held it up. Josephine cried out, “_Pierre?_” and the woman joyfully nodded, and then pointed first to her robe and then to the stone. Whereupon Josephine wonderingly exclaimed, “_Robespierre?_” and the woman again assented with every mark of delight, and continued to draw her hand around her throat, making the signs of cutting off a head. The glad cry soon resounded through the prison, “_Robespierre is dead!_” Thus was the axe lifted from the neck of Josephine, and she soon walked forth free, saying smilingly to her friends:— “You see I am not guillotined; and _I shall yet be queen of France!_” Thus not only had the life of the future empress of France, but the fate of that great kingdom itself, depended at one time upon a tiny cabbage-leaf, thrown by the hand of a feeble woman. After Josephine de Beauharnais was betrothed to General Bonaparte, on one occasion she requested him to accompany her to the residence of M. Raguideau, an old lawyer, who had long been her confidential friend and adviser, that she might inform him of her coming marriage. On arriving at the lawyer’s office, Josephine withdrew her hand from the arm of Bonaparte, and requested him to wait for her in the outer apartment until she had spoken with her old friend alone. Neglecting, however, to close the door which separated the two offices, Bonaparte was able to overhear the conversation between his intended bride and the old lawyer. “M. Raguideau,” said Madame de Beauharnais, “I have come to inform you of my approaching marriage.” “And with whom, madame?” exclaimed the astonished lawyer. “I am about to marry General Bonaparte, sir.” “General Bonaparte, do you say? Pshaw, madame! a soldier of fortune, who has his way to make.” “He will make it, my good friend!” replied Josephine, with flushed cheeks. “When, and how?” was the incredulous retort. “But first, what is he worth at present?” “Nothing, save his house in the Rue Chantereine.” “A _shed!_ A likely fortune, indeed! And so you are really resolved to marry this adventurer?” “I am.” “So much the worse for you, madame.”