came again, but another friend interposed, and thus we went on, always under apprehension of being obliged to lie on a few handfuls of straw.
On the 17th of May 1794, at eight o'clock in the morning, about twenty members of the district of Compiègne, and six or seven of Robespierre's agents from Arras, came to the prison, escorted by one hundred and twenty guards.
The prisoners were immediately ordered each one to their own quarters, and a guard with a drawn sword was stationed within our room, strictly charged to take care we did not open a window, nor leave the apartment for one moment, and above all that we burnt no papers.
Some of us turned pale and nearly fainted, which the mayor perceiving, with his usual good nature, ordered the guard to sheathe his sword. An officer soon after making his round, asked the guard why he had not his sword drawn? He answered because we were afraid, at which the officer scornfully said something about the guillotine, and with horrid imprecations commanded the guard instantly to unsheathe it. This terrified us still more.
Whilst in this situation we heard the jailor repeatedly calling the prisoners separately, the men first, then the women, to a lower room, but not any of them returned. In this distress we durst not even speak to one another through fear of the guard.
After the most cruel suspense of about nine hours, we were ordered down. It was then five in the evening; before we had descended half-way downstairs, counter orders were given, and only one or two persons who could speak French were to be admitted—the rest returned with the guard. The commissioners began to search the pockets of the two religious above-named, but the mayor checked them, so that they were less insolent to them than to some others. Nothing of value being found upon them,
