Why not? You are as much interested in it as I am. Sit down between
me and Virginie and let us read it together. Why, it is quite a
long epistle."

It was written in pencil upon what was evidently a fly-leaf of a
book, and ran as follows:

"My darling Jeanne and Virginie, you can imagine what joy I felt
when I received your little note to-day and heard that you were
still safe. I could hardly believe my senses when, on opening the
little ball of paper which one of our guards thrust into my hand, I
found that it was from you, and that you were both safe and well.
I am writing this crouched down on the ground behind Madame de
Vigny, and so hidden from the sight of our guards, but I can only
write a few lines at a time, lest I should be detected. Tell our
good friend that I fear there is little chance of escape. We are
watched night and day. We are locked up at night, three or four
together, in little cells, but in the day we are in a common hall.

"It is a strange mixture. Here are many of the best blood in France,
together with deputies, advocates, and writers. We may talk together
as much as we like, and sometimes even a joke and a laugh are heard.
Every day some names are called out, and these go and we never see
them again. Do not fret about me, my dear sisters, we are all in
God's hands. If it is his will, we shall be saved; if not, we must
face bravely whatever comes.

"It is a day since I wrote last. A strange thing has happened which
will make your blood boil, Jeanne, as it has made mine. I was called
out this morning to a little room where questions are sometimes
asked us, and who do you think was there? M. Lebat, the son of the
Maire of Dijon--the man who denounced and arrested me. What do
you think the wretch had the insolence to say? That he loved me,
and that if I would consent to marry him he could save me. He said
that his influence would suffice, not only to get me free, but to
obtain for me some of our estates, and he told me he would give me
time to consider his offer, but that I must remember that nothing
could save me if I refused. What do you think I did, Jeanne?
Something very unladylike, I am afraid. I made a step closer to
him, and then I gave him a slap on the face which made my fingers
tingle, then I made him a deep curtsy and said, 'That is my answer,
Monsieur Lebat,' and walked into the great hall again.

"But do not let me waste a line of this last precious letter that
I may be able to