“‘You will see in them, sir,’ said my mother to the commissary, ‘that if there had been tribunals in France, M. de La Fayette would have submitted to them, certain as he was that not an action of his life could criminate him in the eyes of real patriots.’
“‘Nowadays, madam,’ he answered, ‘public opinion is the only tribunal.’
“During that time the soldiers were exploring the house. One of them, on seeing the old family pictures, said to the housekeeper, who was nearly blind from old age:—
“‘Who are these? some grand aristocrates, no doubt?’
“‘Good people who are no more,’ she answered. ‘If they were still alive, things would not be going on as badly as they are now.’
“The soldiers contented themselves with running their bayonets through several pictures. My mother slipped away to give orders for my concealment. Then, with my sister, who would not leave her for a minute, and my aunt, then seventy-three years of age, they departed, followed by their servants, who hoped to make themselves useful by mixing with the soldiers.
“The journey was most trying. They spent the night at Fix. The next morning, on arriving at Le Puy, my mother requested to be immediately conducted to the ‘Département.’ ‘I respect orders coming from the administration,’ she said to the commissary, ‘as much as I detest those coming from elsewhere.’
“The entrance into the town was perilous; a few days previously a prisoner had been massacred on his way through the suburbs. My mother said to my sister, ‘If your father knew you were here, how anxious he would be; but at the same time what pleasure your conduct would give him.’
“The prisoners arrived without injury, although several stones were thrown into the carriage. They alighted at the ‘Département,’ the members of which had been immediately convoked. As soon as the sitting began, my mother said that she placed herself with confidence under the protection of the ‘Département,’ because in it she beheld the authority of the people, which she always respected wherever it could be found.
“‘You receive, Messieurs,’ she added, ‘your orders from M. Roland or from whomsoever you please. As for me, I only choose to receive them from you, and I give myself up as your prisoner.’