of Italy, apprehensive lest thus they
might in some way compromise the safety of their father, recalled to
mind an aged great-aunt, who was residing in much retirement in the
vicinity of Versailles, and suggested the propriety of seeking a refuge
with her. An humble female friend conducted the children to Versailles,
where they were most kindly received.

When the gloom of the ensuing night darkened the city, M. Beauharnais in
his cheerless cell, and Josephine in her prison still stained with the
blood of massacre, wept over the desolation of their home and their
hopes. They knew not the fate of their children, and their minds were
oppressed with the most gloomy forebodings. On the ensuing day,
Josephine's heart was cheered with the tidings of their safety. Such was
the second terrific storm which Josephine encountered on life's dark
waters.

CHAPTER IV.

SCENES IN PRISON.

A.D. 1794

Convent of the Carmelites.--Quality of the prisoners.--Cheerfulness
of Josephine.--Reading the daily journal.--Scenes from the prison
windows.--Anecdote of Hortense.--Letter from Josephine to Hortense.--
Mitigation of severity.--Josephine appeals to the Committee.--She is
summoned to trial.--The unexpected interview.--Feeling manifested
by Beauharnais.--Trial of M. Beauharnais and Josephine.--Hopes
cherished.--Beauharnais's last letter to Josephine.--Brutality of
the executioners.--Removal of the guillotine.--Execution of M.
Beauharnais.--Josephine becomes informed thereof.--Her grief.--Her
despair.--Preparations for the execution of Josephine.--She becomes
cheerful.--Credulity of Josephine.--The unexpected deliverance.--A
miraculous change.--Deliverance to the captives.

The Convent of the Carmelites, in which Josephine was imprisoned, had
acquired a fearful celebrity during the Reign of Terror. It was a vast
and gloomy pile, so capacious in its halls, its chapel, its cells, and
its subterranean dungeons, that at one time nearly ten thousand
prisoners were immured within its frowning walls. In every part of the
building the floors were still deeply stained with the blood of the
recent massacres. The infuriated men and women, intoxicated with rum and
rage, who had broken into the prison, dragged multitudes of their
victims, many of whom were priests, into the chapel, that they might, in
derision of religion, poniard them before the altar. About three hundred
thousand innocent victims of the Revolution now crowded the priso