The victims drew together, embracing their friends and uttering their farewells.

The others laughed louder than ever, like schoolboys who have escaped the rod.

Morning came, and with it the summons.

Those who quitted us we knew we should never see again.

They would spend that night in the dungeon of the _condamnes_; the next day the lumbering roll of the tumbrels would announce to us that they were on their way to the Place de la Revolution.
The first night, I confess, I was disappointed that the fatal list did not contain my name; but as days, and then weeks, and then months passed, the love of life rose high within me, and I grew to tremble for that which I had once hoped for.