of people;
but may quote one or two more specimens of the sort of scenes which fill
the greater part of the first of these volumes. Our authoress and her
sister are at one time separated from their parents, and placed in an
obscure _pension_ in the Faubourg (no longer _St._) Antoine. Their brother,
a very young man, has also remained in Paris, and frequently visits them
in their retreat.

"We could not but observe, that for some days he had been very melancholy,
and that he was getting more and more so. We asked the reason, and he told
us at last that the section had denounced my father in a very alarming
style. We fell a-crying, my sister and I. Albert consoled us as well as he
could, but it was easy to see that the denunciation was not all--that some
immediate danger fixed his fears. We knew afterwards, in effect, that a
report had been spread of the arrest of my parents at Limoges--happily a
false one. The horizon meanwhile was taking a bloody tint. Judge of my
brother's anxiety! he came every day in a cabriolet, which my father had
had built just before these late events; it was an elegant one, very lofty,
of the kind called _wiski._ Already he had been all but insulted by the
populace in driving through the faubourg; but liveries had not yet
altogether disappeared, and nothing would persuade him to listen to our
remonstrances, and make the domestic put off his. Thus it was on the 31st
of August, when he came to see us as usual."

"There was about the boarding-house a man charged with all the rough work,
by name Jaquemart, a fellow that could do everything--but the most
atrocious of countenances. 'The sight of that man makes me sick,' said
Albert; 'I am sure he will end in something tragic.'"

"One day, shortly after we went to the _pension_, Jaquemart was bringing
in a load of wood, when my brother drove at the speed of his horse into
the entrance. He saw the man had a burden that would hardly allow him to
get out of the way in time--cried _'Gare!'_--perceived that his efforts
were in vain--and pulled back his horse so sharply as to run much risk of
wounding the animal, and, indeed, of being thrown out himself, owing to
the extraordinary elevation of the _wiski_. Jaquemart, however, escaped by
this means with a scratch on his leg; his eyes were good, he saw what
Albert had done to master his horse, and vowed gratitude."

"The 31st of August the man had nothing to do about the house, yet he kept
lounging at the g