s
through France to England.

The lord understood her, and gladly consented to assist her and her two
sons.

On the following day he brought her the required passport, and Hortense,
who well knew that the best way to keep a secret was to have no
confidants, now declared to her husband, as well as to her family and
her friends that she was resolved to find her sons, and to embark with
them from Ancona for Corfu!

For this purpose she demanded a passport of the government of Tuscany,
and it was accorded her.

Her sons were still in Bologna, but it was known that this city must
fall into the hands of the Austrians in a few days, and all was lost
unless Hortense arrived there before them. She sent a trusty servant to
her sons to announce her coming. Then, at nightfall, she herself
departed, accompanied by one of her ladies only. She was courageous and
resolute, for she knew that the safety of her sons, her only happiness,
was at stake.

Her rapidly-driven carriage had soon passed without the city, and she
now found herself in a part of the country still occupied by the
insurgents. Here all still breathed courage, joyousness, and confidence.
The entire population, adorned with cockades and three-colored ribbons,
seemed happy and contented, and refused to believe in the danger that
threatened.

Festivals were everywhere being held in honor of the revolution and of
liberty, and those who spoke of the advancing Austrians and of dangers
were ridiculed. Instead of making preparations for their defence, the
insurgents folded their hands in contentment, rejoicing over that which
they had already attained, and blind to the tide that was rolling down
upon them.

In the mean while, the insurgent army was in position near Bologna, and
also still occupied the two cities of Terni and Soleta, which they had
courageously defended against the papal troops. Every one expected that
a decisive battle would soon take place, and every one looked forward to
it with a joyous assurance of victory.

Hortense was far from participating in this general confidence. In
Foligno, where she had remained to await her sons, she passed several
sorrowful days of expectancy and suspense, alarmed by every noise, and
ever looking forward with an anxiously-throbbing heart to the moment
when her sons should come to her as fugitives, perhaps covered with
wounds, perhaps dying, to tell her that all was lost! Her anxiety at
last became so great, that she c