44 Monsieur St. Croix ; a Tale of the Days of Terror. f JAN. 



than transcribe it. It convinced me of her innocence and her love. 

 I gathered from its details that the reproaches of Bernis had deepened 

 her repentance of our unholy union ; till at length,, guided by his advice, 

 she had sacrificed the best affections of her heart at the shrine of ima- 

 ginary duty, and torn herself from the only being she loved to expiate 

 the guilt of that affection in the seclusion of a foreign convent. Poor 

 victim ! she prayed him, who had sacrificed her peace and her life to 

 his diabolical passions, to use his influence to procure the liberation of 

 herself and her holy director from their fearful prison. ^ 



Let me briefly pass over the narrative of that day. I started up, flew 

 to the tribunal of the commune, attested the innocence of the accused ; 

 and my intimacy witli the chiefs of the democrats sufficed to make my 

 word a law, and procured for me without delay a warrant for the libe- 

 ration of Claudine and the priest. I hurried with breathless speed along 

 the streets towards their prison, but crowds at every turning impeded 

 my progress. Murder was already abroad in the city. It was the 2d of 

 September, 1792 that day which has fixed for ever one of the blackest 

 stains on the history of my country. As I passed the prisons of the Chatelet 

 and La Force, I heard the groans and supplications of the dying, ming- 

 ling fearfully with the demoniac yells of an infuriated mob ; women's 

 screams arose wildly on the air, and blood came flowing past me, down 

 the channels of the streets. Every thing betokened that the prisons 

 were burst open, and their unfortunate inhabitants massacred by 

 inhuman ruffians. 



Dark and fearful were the forebodings which thronged upon my mind, 

 as, on approaching the Abbey, the same sounds of tumult and murder 

 burst upon my ear. I hurried on, in spite of every obstacle, with a velo- 

 city which only madness could have lent me, till I reached the front of 

 the building ; and there such a scene presented itself as my soul sickens 

 to think on. The armed multitude of men and women of the lowest 

 class resembled in their fury rather fiends than human beings but 

 I heeded them not ; I sprang over the dying and the dead ; I escaped 

 from the grasp of the assassin for there was yet hope that I might not 

 be too late j and, though I recognized the mangled body of Bernis 

 amidst a heap of slain, I relaxed nothing of my speed for my wife, my 

 adored Claudine might yet survive his destruction. My suspense was soon 

 at an end. Yes, I saw her, and yet I survived the sight. I saw her, 

 at a little distance ; she was kneeling with clasped hands at the feet of 

 an infuriated ruffian, whose weapon was already at her breast. At that 

 moment she recognized my cry of agony, sprang wildly on her feet, and 

 called with an imploring voice on my name. It was the last word she 

 uttered. The steel struck her ere she could escape into my arms. It 



struck deeply and fatally yet well for her. But for me ! 



H.D.B. 



