t, and protected by her own modest dignity. Pethion saw her
in the hall, where she was waiting for the handsome Girondist, and
observed with a smile, "So the beautiful aristocrat is come to see
republicans." "Citizen Pethion," she replied, "you now judge me without
knowing me, but a time will come when you shall learn who I am." With
Barbaroux, Charlotte chiefly conversed of the imprisoned Girondists; of
Madame Roland and Marat. The name of this man had long haunted her with
a mingled feeling of dread and horror. To Marat she ascribed the
proscription of the Girondists, the woes of the Republic, and on him she
resolved to avenge her ill-fated country. Charlotte was not aware that
Marat was but the tool of Danton and Robespierre. "If such actions
could be counseled," afterward said Barbaroux, "it is not Marat whom we
would have advised her to strike."

While this deadly thought was daily strengthening itself in Charlotte's
mind, she received several offers of marriage. She declined them, on the
plea of wishing to remain free: but strange indeed must have seemed to
her, at that moment, those proposals of earthly love. One of those whom
her beauty had enamored, M. de Franquelin, a young volunteer in the
cause of the Girondists, died of grief on learning her fate; his last
request was, that her portrait, and a few letters he had formerly
received from her, might be buried with him in his grave.

For several days after her last interview with Barbaroux, Charlotte
brooded silently over her great thought; often meditating on the history
of Judith. Her aunt subsequently remembered that, on entering her room
one morning, she found an old Bible open on her bed: the verse in which
it is recorded that "the Lord had gifted Judith with a special beauty
and fairness," for the deliverance of Israel, was underlined with a
pencil.

On another occasion Madame de Bretteville found her niece weeping alone;
she inquired into the cause of her tears. "They flow," replied
Charlotte, "for the misfortunes of my country." Heroic and devoted as
she was, she then also wept, perchance, over her own youth and beauty,
so soon to be sacrificed forever. No personal considerations altered her
resolve: she procured a passport, provided herself with money, and paid
a farewell visit to her father, to inform him that, considering the
unsettled condition of France, she thought it best to retire to England.
He approved of her intention, and bade her adieu. On