one comes out," was the gruff reply.

She waited for a quarter of an hour in burning impatience. Her ear was
almost stunned with the deafening clamor of debate, of applause, of
execrations, which now in dying murmurs, and again in thundering
reverberations, awakening responsive echoes along the thronged
streets, swelled upon the night air. Of all human sounds, the uproar
of a countless multitude of maddened human voices is the most awful.

At last she caught a glimpse of the messenger who had summoned her to
appear before the bar of the Assembly in reply to the accusations of
Viard, informed him of their peril, and implored him to hand her
letter to the president. The messenger, M. Roze, took the paper, and,
elbowing his way through the throng, disappeared. An hour elapsed,
which seemed an age. The tumult within continued unabated. At length
M. Roze reappeared.

"Well!" said Madame Roland, eagerly, "what has been done with my
letter?"

"I have given it to the president," was the reply, "but nothing has
been done with it as yet. Indescribable confusion prevails. The mob
demand the accusation of the Girondists. I have just assisted one to
escape by a private way. Others are endeavoring, concealed by the
tumult, to effect their escape. There is no knowing what is to
happen."

"Alas!" Madame Roland replied, "my letter will not be read. Do send
some deputy to me, with whom I can speak a few words."

"Whom shall I send?"

"Indeed I have but little acquaintance with any, and but little esteem
for any, except those who are proscribed. Tell Vergniaud that I am
inquiring for him."

Vergniaud, notwithstanding the terrific agitations of the hour,
immediately attended the summons of Madame Roland. She implored him to
try to get her admission to the bar, that she might speak in defense
of her husband and her friends.

"In the present state of the Assembly," said Vergniaud, "it would be
impossible, and if possible, of no avail. The Convention has lost all
power. It has become but the weapon of the rabble. Your words can do
no good."

"They may do much good," replied Madame Roland. "I can venture to say
that which you could not say without exposing yourself to accusation.
I fear nothing. If I can not save Roland, I will utter with energy
truths which may be useful to the Republic. An example of courage may
shame the nation."

"Think how unavailing the attempt," replied Vergniaud. "Your letter
can not possibly be read fo