how I acquired this bad habit—the habit of the aristocrats; and, you know, sergeant, it’s so hard to shake off old habits!"
This answer, delivered in trembling accents, concealed a delicate irony that was lost on all save me. I asked myself, who is this young woman? The mystery seemed complete. This alone was clear: she was not the daughter of a laundress.
"How did I come here, Citizen Albert?" she asked. "Well, I will tell you. I went to deliver some washing. The lady was not at home, and so I waited; for in these hard times every one needs what little money is coming to him. In that way it grew dark, and so I fell among these gentlemen—beg pardon, I would say citizens. They asked for my pass. As I did not have it with me, they were going to take me to the guard-house. I cried out in terror, which brought you to the scene; and as luck would have it, you are a friend. I said to myself, as M. Albert knows my name to be Solange Ledieu, he will vouch for me; and that you will, will you not, M. Albert?"
"Certainly, I will vouch for you."
"Very well," said the leader of the patrol; "and who, pray, will vouch for you, my friend?"
"Danton! Do you know him? Is he a good patriot?"
"Oh, if Danton will vouch for you, I have nothing to say."
"Well, there is a session of the Cordeliers to-day. Let us go there."
"Good," said the leader. “Citizens, let us go to the Cordeliers."
The club of the Cordeliers met at the old Cordelier monastery in the Rue l'Observance. We arrived there after scarce a minute's walk. At the door I tore a page from my note-book, wrote a few words upon it with a lead pencil, gave it to the sergeant, and requested him to hand it to Danton, while I waited outside with the men.
The sergeant entered the clubhouse and returned with Danton.
"What!" said he to me; "they have arrested you, my friend? You, the friend of Camilles—you, one of the most
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