former rank
and station would be uttered; while against some the taunt would imply
that they had shed tears over others who fell as enemies of the people,
and that such sympathy was a costly pleasure to be paid for but with a
life's-blood. Such entire possession of me had these awful sights taken,
that I lived in a continual dream of them. The sound of every cart-wheel
recalled the dull rumble of the hurdle--every distant sound seemed like
the far-off hum of the coming multitude--every sudden noise suggested
the clanking drop of the guillotine! My sleep had no other images, and
I wandered about my little round of duties pondering over this terrible
theme.

Had I been less occupied with my own thoughts, I must have seen that
the Pere Michel was suffering under some great calamity. The poor
priest became wasted to a shadow; for entire days long he would taste
of nothing; sometimes he would be absent from early morning to late at
night, and when he did return, instead of betaking himself to rest,
he would drop down before the crucifix in an agony of prayer, and thus
spend more than half the night. Often and often have I, when feigning
sleep, followed him as he recited the litanies of the breviary, adding
my own muttered prayers to his, and beseeching for a mercy whose object
I knew not.

For some time his little chapel had been closed by the authorities; a
heavy padlock and two massive seals being placed upon the door, and a
notice, in a vulgar handwriting, appended, to the effect that it was by
the order of the Commissary of the Department. Could this be the source
of the pere's sorrow? or did not his affliction seem too great for such
a cause? were questions I asked myself again and again.

In this state were matters, when one morning--it was a Saturday--the
priest enjoined me to spend the day in prayer, reciting particularly the
liturgies for the dead, and all those sacred offices for those who have
just departed this life.

'Pray unceasingly, my dear child--pray with your whole heart, as
though it were for one you loved best in the world. I shall not return,
perhaps, till late to-night; but I will kiss you then, and to-morrow we
shall go into the woods together.'

The tears fell from his cheek to mine as he said this, and his damp hand
trembled as he pressed my fingers. My heart was full to bursting at his
emotion, and I resolved faithfully to do his bidding. To watch him as he
went, I opened the sash, and as I