I found some men at the door, with large hats, making quite a black group on the roadway. They looked harassed, and their boots were covered with dust. My first impulse was to shut the door in their faces, but one of them made a step forward, stretched out his hand, and said in a low, shaking voice:—
"Shelter, citoyenne, give us shelter for the night. We are dropping with fatigue—have pity upon us!" And these last words were repeated in a murmur by the group of men.
"Have pity upon us!"
"Who are you?"
"Fugitives—deputies of the Gironde—we are pursued, save us!"
They were Girondins! You will know one day, my child, what that meant. It is enough now for you to know that they were poor fellows flying from Paris, pursued by the Montagnards, that is, by their enemies.
"Wretched men," I replied, "go away! The chapel is full of soldiers. If you come in you are lost!"
They hesitated a moment; then a pale young man, quite a youth, who was leaning upon the arms of two of his comrades, murmured feebly:
"Walk again! I cannot go a step farther. Go on, comrades; save yourselves and leave me here. I prefer to die!"
They were brave fellows, those Girondins. They would not hear of abandoning the poor young fellow.
"Is there no other place but the chapel where we could rest for two hours—just for two hours only?" asked the one who had already spoken to me.
"None but this room," I answered, standing a little aside; "and the chapel has no way out but that door (I pointed to the middle door), so the soldiers pass through here to enter or go out. Let them see you, and you are lost!"
Great dejection was apparent in the face of the poor man. I could see it plainly, for it was a clear night and as light as day.
"Adieu, citoyennes," he said simply. The district is full of people who are pursuing us. Pray that we may escape them!" Then, turning to his companions, he said in a low voice, "Onward!"
Well, my child, I was quite upset; my heart was rent at the sight of their distress. I understood all that they had suffered, and all they would yet suffer. I looked at their drooping shoulders, at their bruised feet.
