“‘SIR: I can only attribute to a kind feeling the change you have brought about in my situation. You have spared me the dangers of a too perilous journey, and consented that my place of retirement should be my prison. But any prison whatever has become insupportable to me since I learnt that my husband has been transferred from town to town by the enemies of France, who were conducting him to Spandau. However repugnant to my feelings it may be to owe anything to men who have shown themselves the enemies and accusers of him whom I revere and love as I ought to do, it is in all the frankness of my heart that I vow eternal gratitude to whoever will enable me to join my husband, by taking all responsibility from the ‘administration,’ and by giving me back my parole, if in the event of France becoming more free it were possible to travel without danger. “‘It is on my knees, if necessary, that I implore this favor; imagine by that the state I am in. “‘NOAILLES LA FAYETTE.’ “M. Roland thus answered:— “‘I have put, madam, your touching request under the eyes of the committee. I must nevertheless observe that it would seem to me imprudent for a person bearing your name to travel through France, on account of the unpleasant impression which is at the present moment attached to it. But circumstances may alter. I advise you to wait, and I shall be the first to seize a favorable opportunity.’ “My mother answered him immediately as follows:— “‘I return you thanks, sir, for the ray of hope with which you have brightened my heart, so long unaccustomed to that feeling. Nothing can add to what I owe to my parole and to the _administrateurs_ who rely upon it. No degree of misfortune could ever make me think of breaking my word, but your letter renders that duty a little more supportable, and I already begin to feel something of that gratitude I promised you if, delivered through your hands, I were restored to the object of my affections, and to the happiness of offering him some consolation. “‘NOAILLES LA FAYETTE.’ “Three months had elapsed since we had heard anything about my father. The public papers had announced his transfer to Wessel instead of Spandau: since then they had been silent. My mother wrote an unsealed letter to the Duke of Brunswick, entreating the generalissimo of the allied troops to send her some news of her husband through the French army. “She also wrote thus to the king of Prussia:—