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230 of it was that they all set off amicably enough for Roternheim, not without lurking misgivings; but the snoring citizens of that quiet country town, not in the mood for catching rebels at such hours, suffered them to leave its precincts in peace.

But oh, the weariness of the long march! One of them suffered tortures from gout; Barbaroux, limping with a sprained ankle, leant his heavy weight on his companions; Riouffe, bare-foot and blistered, left a bloody trail as he tripped on tip-toe to save his grazed heels; Buzot plodded along heavily, "carrying in his heart such bitter griefs," as Louvet knew from "his chère Lodoïska," who had carried the solace of Buzot's letters to Madame Roland, and is called by her, "angel of goodness and beauty." Lodoïska, whose heroic devotion to Louvet is so thrillingly described by him, was even now following closely in the wake of the outlaws, risking arrest as suspect, driving mysteriously it seemed to the Argus-eyed officials, but able to save herself by tact and presence of mind.

Hunger had added its pangs to the sufferings of the wayworn wanderers. No sooner did they approach a human dwelling, than shutters were barred, doors locked, and people shrank from them as though they were plague-stricken. At last, after dragging along for thirty-one hours at a stretch, they reached the neighbourhood of Quimper, and hid themselves in a woody brake till nightfall. By way of climax to their misery, they were drenched by a thunderstorm, literally bedded in water, and too weary to rise. Even the cheerfullest of them, Girey-Dupré, Riouffe, and the lion-hearted Barbaroux, lost heart for jesting, and had only faint smiles left. Pétion alone remaining imperturbable, steeled against all misadventures.