write to you by saying more about this wretch. I
can see no possible way of escape, dears, so do not buoy yourselves
up with hope. I have none. Strange as it may seem to you we are
not very unhappy here. There are many of our old friends and some
of the deputies of the Gironde, who used to attend our salon. We
keep up each other's courage. We talk of other things just as if
we were in a drawing-room, and when the list is called out of a
morning, those who are named say good-bye bravely; there is seldom
a tear shed.

"So do not think of me as wretched or unhappy in these last days.
And now, my sisters, I must say adieu. You must trust yourselves
entirely to our brave English friend, as you would trust a brother.
He will do all that is possible to take you out of this unhappy land
and conduct you to England, where you will find Victor, Monsieur
du Tillet, and your brothers, who have, I trust, weeks ago arrived
there in safety. Thank our friend from me and from our dead parents
for his goodness and devotion. That your lives may be happy, my
dear sisters, will be the last prayer of your loving Marie."

Inside the letter was another tiny note addressed for Jeanne,
"Private." Having read the other Jeanne took the little note and
walking to the window opened it. As she did so a burning flush
of colour swept across her face to her very brow. She folded it
carefully again and stood looking through the window silently for
another quarter of an hour before she came back to the table.

"What is it, Jeanne?" Virginie asked; "have you been crying, Jeanne
dear? You look so flushed. You must not fret. Harry says we must
not give up hope, for that he believes he may hit upon some plan
for saving Marie yet. He says it's only natural that she should
think there was no means of getting away, but it was only what he
expected. It is we who must invent something."

"Yes, dear, we will try," Jeanne said with a quiver in her lip,
and then she suddenly burst into tears.

"You mustn't give way, Jeanne," Harry said, when she recovered
herself a little. "You know how much I trust to your advice; if
you were to break down I should lose heart. Do not think of Marie's
letter as a good-bye. I have not lost hope yet, by a long way. Why,
we have done wonders already in managing to get a letter in to her
and to have her reply. I consider half the difficulty is over now
we have a friend in there."

"I will try not to break down again," Jeanne sai