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the 31st of May, Madame Roland had sat at home listening with a thrill of excitement to the now familiar sounds of insurrection. She heard the beating of the rappel and the générale in the faubourgs; she saw armed men quickly tramping through the streets; the ill-omened tocsin sounded lugubriously. She was still in Paris, although long prepared to leave it. Having returned to private life, she considered herself free to go, and judged that, in case of danger, Roland would be more unencumbered if she and Eudora were out of the way. But, although she had come to this decision for the sake of Roland, of her own health, and "many other good reasons," she did not carry it out with her usual promptitude. Was she quite serious in her wish to go, or were there not still stronger reasons which kept her lingering in Paris? Her passports had also been purposely delayed, for had not she, too, become suspect? During this state of suspense she was prostrated by violent spasmodic colic—the only ailment she suffered from—usually brought on by overexcitement.

Able to sit up after a week's illness, she was