and went to live with her in her old home at Caen. There, while assisting in the domestic duties of the place, she had abundant leisure to indulge in her favorite reading of romances and the writings of the philosophers then in vogue. She became familiar with the works of Rousseau and Raynal, and entered heartily into the revived study of Plutarch, by whose lives of the heroes of antiquity France was then fashioning herself. She had soon the motive and incentive to express her visionary ideas in action. It was early in 1793, and the Girondists, who had failed in their aspirations to place liberty on a rational foundation, were on the eve of their final overthrow. Overpowered by the fury of the Jacobins, flying from their impending fate in Paris, numbers of them had taken refuge in the departments and were endeavoring to rally the nation to sustain them against the ultra revolutionary party, of which the vulgar, blood-thirsty, remorseless Marat had become the most obnoxious leader. This fiend in human shape, by the use of his pen in constant appeals to the people in arousing their prejudices, and by his authority in the convention, was the unflinching opponent of the Girondins, and would be satisfied with nothing less than their extermination. His character, odious at the best, was not likely to be looked upon with other feelings than those of the most intense hatred and dismay by the political refugees from his fury, gathered at Caen. Among the leaders of the Girondins assembled there, were Buzot, Salles, Petion, Barbaroux, Louvet, who sedulously employed them selves in arousing opposition to the The prudence and secrecy with which she went about the fatal work proved the strength of her character. It was necessary that she should prepare herself by information from the Girondin leaders, and she sought their presence without affording them the least intimation of her intentions. After various interviews she obtained from Barbaroux a letter to Duperret at Paris, one of the party who still held his seat in the Convention. There was nothing to compromise him in it. It was simply a letter of introduction. A greater seriousness was noticed in her conversation and demeanor at this time. Questioned by her aunt, she said, 66 I weep over the misfortunes of my country, over those of my relatives, and over yours. Whilst Marat lives no one can be sure of a day's existence." Her aunt also afterwards called to mind going into her room to awaken her in the morning, and finding on her bed an open Bible at a passage of the book of Judith, of which she had marked a verse with a pencil, describing the going forth of the daughter of Israel in her beauty to deliver the land from the hand of Holofernes. The entire, vivid narrative "beyond all Greek, all Roman fame," may well have been her inspiration. Armed with this resolve, on the 7th of July of this memorable year, 1793, when the revolution developed its profoundest horrors, Charlotte visited Argentan to take a final leave of her father and sister, under the pretence of joining the refugee emigrants in England. Returning to her aunt she told her the same story in expectation of her departure on the morrow, which she had privately arranged, by the Paris diligence. Very touching are the incidents of her last hours at Caen as related by Lamartine. They were "filled with gratitude, attention and tenderness towards that aunt, to whom she owed such long and kind hospitality, and she provided, through one of her friends, for the old servant who had taken care of her in her youth. She ordered and paid in advance, at the tradespeople's shops in Caen, for some little presents of dresses and embroidery destined to be worn after her departure by some youthful companions of her early days. She distributed her favorite books amongst the young persons of her acquaintance, and reserved none for her. self but a volume of Plutarch, as if she did not desire to separate herself, in the crisis of her life, from the society of those great men with whom she had lived and wished to die. Finally, on the 9th of July, very early in the morning, she took under her arm a small bundle of the most requisite articles of apparel, embraced her aunt, and told her she was going to sketch the haymakers in the neighboring meadows. With a sheet of drawing paper in her hand, she went out to return no more. At the foot of the staircase she met the child of a poor laborer, named Robert, who lodged in the house, in the street. The child was accustomed to play in the court. She sometimes gave him little toys. 'Here! Robert,' said she to him, giving him the drawing paper, which she no lon ger required to keep her in counte nance, that is for you; be a good boy and kiss me; you will never see me again.'. And she embraced the child, leaving a tear upon his cheek. That was the last tear on the thresh hold of the house of her youth. She had nothing left to give but her blood." During the journey in the diligence to Paris, there was nothing to excite in her fellow-travellers any suspicion of a disturbed or disordered mind. She was perfectly mistress of herself throughout. During the first day she appeared to be simply entertaining a little girl whom chance had thrown by her side. The loud professions of attachment on the part of the passengers to the cause of the Mountain and its grim hero Marat, did not induce her by any unguarded word or look to betray her own sentiments. Her beauty attracted attention, and she was questioned as to her name and the object of her journey to Paris; she answered evasively in few words, sometimes feigning sleep, while her modesty proved to her a sufficient guardian from further impertinence. A young man of the party with a respectful freedom expressed his affection for her and talked of marriage. She rallied him on this sudden outburst of emotion and promised to let him hear from her at some later time. In this way, winning the regard of all around her, she entered Paris on the 11th of July, at noon, making her residence at the Hotel de la Providence, which had been recom. mended to her by her friends at Caen. She retired early and slept soundly till the next day, when, attiring herself in a simple dress, she presented herself at the lodgings of Duperret with the letter of introduction from Barbaroux. The deputy was not at home and would be away all day, as she learnt from his daughters. She then returned to her hotel and passed the time in solitude till evening, when she found Duperret, and requested him to present her to Garat, the minister of the interior; her object being on some pretext of business to gain information, by conversation with the leading Girondists, which might assist her in her purpose to serve their cause. On parting with Duperret for the night, she advised him for his safety to quit Paris and join his brothers of the party in Caen. He replied that his post was at Paris and he would not leave it. "You are in error," said she; "fly, fly, before to morrow night." On the morrow, Duperret called on her at her lodging to conduct her to Garat; they found the minister too much engaged to see her before evening. Duperret then led her to her residence, where he left her at the entrance. Leaving the hotel immedi ately, she made her way, inquiring from street to street, to the Palais Royal, where, without being diverted from her purpose by the frivolity and gaiety of the scene, she found under the galleries the shop of a cutler, where she purchased a large knife which might serve for a dagger, and concealed it under her dress. The weapon was intended for Marat. She had at first thought of reaching him when he should make his appearance at the approaching ceremony of the federation, in commemoration of the triumph of liberty, to be held in the Champ-deMars; but this being postponed, she had then proposed to herself to strike her victim in his seat at the convention at the head of his party. Learning from Duperret that he would not appear there, she was compelled to seek him by stratagem at his private lodg ings. ,, Continuing the story in the words of Lamartine who has devoted a "Book' of his "History of the Girondists" to the career of this heroic woman, "she returned to her chamber and wrote to Marat a billet, which she sent to the door of 'the friend of the people.' 'I have just arrived from Caen,' she wrote. 'Your love of country makes me presume that you will have pleasure in hearing of the unfortunate events of that portion of the republic. I shall present myself at your abode about to one o'clock; have the goodness to receive me, and grant me a moment's conversation. I will put you in a position to be of great service to France.' Charlotte, relying on the effect of this note, went at the appointed hour to Marat's door, but could not obtain access to him. She then left with the portress a second note, more pressing and insidious than the former. 'I wrote to you this morning, Marat,' she said; did you have my letter? I cannot believe it, as they refuse me admittance to you. I hope that to-morrow you will grant me the interview I request. I repeat that I am just arrived from Caen, and have secrets to disclose you most important for the safety of the republic. Besides, I am persecuted for the cause of liberty; I am unhappy, and that I am so should give me a claim on your patriotism.' Without awaiting his reply, Charlotte left her chamber at seven o'clock in the evening, clad with more than usual care, in order, by a more studied appearance, to attract the persons about Marat. Her white gown was covered over the shoulders by a silk scarf, which, falling over her bosom, fastened behind. Her hair was confined by a Normandy cap, the long lace of which played against her cheeks. A wide green silk riband was bound round her brows, and fastened her cap. Her hair fell loose down her back. No paleness of complexion, no wildness of gaze, no tremulousness of voice, revealed her deadly purpose. With this attractive aspect she knocked at Marat's door. "Marat inhabited the first floor of a dilapidated house in the Rue des Cor deliers, now Rue de l' Ecole de Méde- the Convention and the Cordeliers. Offended at the silence of the Assembly on the reception of his messages, he had recently addressed to it another letter, in which he threatened the Convention that he would be carried in his dying condition to the tribune, that he might shame the representatives with their cowardice, and dictate to them fresh murders. He left no repose either to himself or to others. Full of the presentiment of death, he only seemed to fear that his last hour, coming on too suddenly, would not leave him time to immolate sufficient criminals. More anxious to kill than to live, he hastened to send before him as many victims as possible, as so many hostages given by the knife to the completed revolution, which he desired to leave free from all enemies after his death. The terror which issued from Marat's house returned thither under another formthe unending dread of assassination. His companion and his intimate associates believed that they saw as many daggers raised against him, as he raised over the heads of three hundred thou sand citizens. Access to his residence was forbidden, as it would be to the palace of tyranny. None were admitNone were admitted to his presence but assured friends or denouncers strongly recommended, and who had submitted to interrogatories and severe examinations. "Charlotte was not aware of these obstacles, although she apprehended them. She alighted from the coach on the opposite side of the street, in front of Marat's residence. The day was on the wane, particularly in the quarter darkened by lofty houses and narrow streets. The portress at first refused to allow the young unknown to penetrate into the courtyard. She insisted, however, and ascended several stairs, regardless of the voice of the concierge. At these sounds Marat's mistress half-opened the door, and refused to allow a female whom she did not know to enter. The confused sound of the altercation between these women, one of whom entreated that she might be allowed to speak to the friend of the people, whilst the other endeavored to close the door in her face, reached Marat's ears, who comprehended, by the few indistinct words that reached him, that the visitor was the stranger from whom he had received two notes during the day. In a loud and imperative voice he ordered that she should be admitted. Alber tine, either from jealousy or distrust, obeyed with much ill-will and grumbling. She showed the young girl into the small closet where Marat was, and left, as she quitted her, the door halfopen, that she might hear the lowest whisper or the smallest movement of the sick man. The room was faintly lighted. Marat was in his bath, yet in this forced repose of his body he allowed his mind no leisure. A plank, roughly planed, laid across the bath, was covered with papers, open letters, and half-written articles for his publication. He held in his right hand the pen which the arrival of the unknown female had suspended on its page. This was a letter to the Convention, to demand of it the judgment and proscription of the last Bourbons tolerated in France. Beside the bath, on a large block of oak, was a leaden inkstand, of the meanest fabric-the |