Liberty.
I climbed one of the pillars of the paling, and could now see the great
cart, which, like a boat upon wheels, came slowly along, dragged by six
horses. It was crowded with people, so closely packed that they could
not move their bodies, and only waved their hands, which they did
incessantly. They seemed, too, as if they were singing; but the deep
growl of the bassoons, and the fierce howlings of the mob, drowned all
other sounds. As the cart came nearer, I could distinguish the faces,
amid which were those of age and youth, men and women, bold-visaged boys
and fair girls--some, whose air bespoke the very highest station, and
beside them, the hardy peasant, apparently more amazed than terrified
at all he saw around him. On they came, the great cart surging heavily,
like a bark in a stormy sea; and now it cleft the dense ocean that
filled the Place, and I could descry the lineaments wherein the
stiffened lines of death were already marked. Had any touch of pity
still lingered in that dense crowd, there might well have been some show
of compassion for the sad convoy, whose faces grew ghastly with terror
as they drew near the horrible engine.

Down the furrowed cheek of age the heavy tears coursed freely, and sobs
and broken prayers burst forth from hearts that until now had beat high
and proudly.

'There is the Due d'Angeac,' cried a fellow, pointing to a venerable
old man, who was seated at the corner of the cart with an air of calm
dignity; 'I know him well, for I was his perruquier.'

'His hair must be content with sawdust this morning, instead of powder,'
said another; and a rude laugh followed the ruffian jest.

'See! mark that woman with the long dark hair--that is La Bretonville,
the actress of the St. Martin.'

'I have often seen her represent terror far more naturally,' cried
a fashionably dressed man, as he stared at the victim through his
opera-glass.

'Bah!' replied his friend, 'she despises her audience, _voila tout_.
Look, Henri, if that little girl beside her be not Lucille, of the
Pantheon.'

'_Parbleu!_ so it is. Why, they'll not leave a pirouette in the Grand
Opera. _Pauvre petite_, what had you to do with politics?'

'Her little feet ought to have saved her head any day.'

'See how grim that old lady beside her looks; I'd swear she is more
shocked at the company she's thrown into than the fate that awaits her.
I never saw a glance of prouder disdain than she has just bestowed on
poo