Her cries of terror, as they dragged her to her doom, rang in my lady's ears for weeks, and unnerved her altogether.
A still worse fright befell them, one early morning, when we sought the fresh air in the direction of the Champ de Mars, where I hoped we should be safe from crowds of all kinds.

At a turning of the road we suddenly encountered, before there was time to avoid it, the most terrible of all crowds--that which escorted a _condamne_ to his execution.

It was in vain I tried to draw the ladies aside; the mob was upon us before we could escape.

I had seen many a Paris mob before, but none so savage or frantic as this.

The poor doomed man, one Bailly (as I heard afterwards, formerly a mayor of Paris), stood bare-headed, cropped, with hands tied behind him, and with only a thin shirt to protect him from the cold.