han fiends, those parricides,
those emigrant nobles, who have come to burn our harvests, slay our
wives and children, and destroy the proudest monument of human wisdom,
the grandest triumph of human success, and the most illustrious
monument of the age of regeneration--the Republic of France." Loud
acclamations followed this popular rhetoric; and the panegyrist,
firmly grasping me by the arm, walked with me rapidly out of court.
All made way for him, and, before another word could be uttered by the
astounded bench, we were in one of the covered carriages reserved for
prisoners of the higher rank, and on our way, at full gallop, through
the intricate streets of Paris.

All this was done with such hurried action, that I had scarcely time
to know what my own emotions were; but the relief from immediate
death, or rather from those depressing and overwhelming sensations
which perhaps make its worst bitterness, was something, and hope
dawned in me once more. Still, it was wholly in vain that I attempted
to make my man of mystery utter a word. Nothing could extort a
syllable from him, and he was evidently unwilling that I should even
see his face, imperfect as the chance was among the few lamps which
Paris then exhibited to enlighten the dismal darkness of her
thoroughfares. Yet the idea that my rescue was not without a purpose
predominated; and I was beginning even to imagine that I already felt
the fresh air of the fields, and that our journey would terminate
outside the walls of Paris, when the carriage came to a full stop,
and, by the light of a torch streaming on the wind in front, I saw the
gate of the St Lazare. All was now over--resistance or escape was
equally beyond me. The carriage was surrounded by the guard, who
ordered me to descend; their officer received the rescript for my safe
custody, and I had nothing before me but the dungeon. But at the
moment when my foot was on the step of the vehicle, my companion
stooped forward, and uttered in my ear, with a pressure of my hand,
the word "Mordecai." I was hurried onward, and the carriage drove
away.

My surprise was excessive. This talismanic word changes the current
of my thoughts at once. It had so often and so powerfully operated in
my favour, that I could scarcely doubt its effect once more; yet
before me were the stern realities of confinement. What spell was
equal to those stonewalls, what dexterity of man or friendship, or
even the stronger love of woman, c