This was also the last day of respite which had saved Josephine from
the tribunal of the revolution, through the decision of her
physician. Death had spared her head, but now it belonged to the
executioner. The captives feared the event, and they were confirmed
in this fear by the jailer, who, on the morning of the ninth
Thermidor, entered the room which Josephine, the Duchess
d'Aiguillon, and Therese de Fontenay occupied, and who removed the
camp-bed which Josephine had hitherto used as a sofa, to give it to
another prisoner.
"How," exclaimed the Duchess d'Aiguillon, "do you want to give this
bed to another prisoner? Is Madame de Beauharnais to have a better
one?"
The turnkey burst into a coarse laugh. "Alas! no," said he, with a
significant gesture, "Citoyenne Beauharnais will soon need a bed no
more."
Her friends broke into tears; but Josephine remained composed and
quite. At this decisive moment a fearful self-possession and
calmness came over her; all sufferings and sorrow appeared to have
sunk away, all anxiety and care seemed overcome, and a radiant smile
illumined Josephine's features, for, through a wondrous association
of ideas, she suddenly remembered the prophecy of the negro-woman in
Martinique.
Pages:
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298