donc; lifted the unfortunate
man; carried him out on his back to the street. He was massacred there.

'We all looked at one another in silence, we clasped each other's hands.
Motionless, with fixed eyes, we gazed on the pavement of our prison;
on which lay the moonlight, checkered with the triple stancheons of our
windows.

'Three in the morning: They were breaking-in one of the prison-doors. We
at first thought they were coming to kill us in our room; but heard,
by voices on the staircase, that it was a room where some Prisoners
had barricaded themselves. They were all butchered there, as we shortly
gathered.

'Ten o'clock: The Abbe Lenfant and the Abbe de Chapt-Rastignac appeared
in the pulpit of the Chapel, which was our prison; they had entered by a
door from the stairs. They said to us that our end was at hand; that
we must compose ourselves, and receive their last blessing. An electric
movement, not to be defined, threw us all on our knees, and we received
it. These two whitehaired old men, blessing us from their place above;
death hovering over our heads, on all hands environing us; the moment is
never to be forgotten. Half an hour after, they were both massacred, and
we heard their cries.' (Jourgniac Saint-Meard, Mon Agonie de Trente-huit
heures, reprinted in Hist. Parl. xviii. 103-135.)--Thus Jourgniac in
his Agony in the Abbaye.

But now let the good Maton speak, what he, over in La Force, in the same
hours, is suffering and witnessing. This Resurrection by him is greatly
the best, the least theatrical of these Pamphlets; and stands testing by
documents:

'Towards seven o'clock,' on Sunday night, 'prisoners were called
frequently, and they did not reappear. Each of us reasoned in his own
way, on this singularity: but our ideas became calm, as we persuaded
ourselves that the Memorial I had drawn up for the National Assembly was
producing effect.

'At one in the morning, the grate which led to our quarter opened anew.
Four men in uniform, each with a drawn sabre and blazing torch, came up
to our corridor, preceded by a turnkey; and entered an apartment close
to ours, to investigate a box there, which we heard them break up. This
done, they stept into the gallery, and questioned the man Cuissa, to
know where Lamotte (Necklace's Widower) was. Lamotte, they said, had
some months ago, under pretext of a treasure he knew of, swindled a sum
of three-hundred livres from one of them, inviting him to dinner for
t