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 into the most secret dungeons, convincing herself by previous personal examination that we had nothing about us that could aid escape. We were however trying the walls, when we heard her roar out, "Rascals, I am coming to you with my bastinado; I will teach you how to play music." We took her at her word, and all desisted. The next day we reached Paris, and were lodged in the outer boulevards, and at four in the afternoon we got in sight of Bicêtre.

On reaching the end of the avenue which looks on the road to Fontainebleau, the carriages turned to the right, and entered an iron gate, above which I read mechanically this inscription—"Hospice de la viellessevieillesse [sic]" (Hospital for the aged.) In the fore court many old men were walking, clothed in grey garments. They were paupers; and stared at us with that stupid curiosity which results from a monotonous and purely animal existence; for it often happens that a person admitted into a hospital, having no longer his own subsistence to provide for, renounces the exercise of his narrow faculties, and ends by falling into a state of perfect idiotcy. On reaching the second court, in which was the chapel, I remarked that the majority of my companions hid their faces with their hands or pocket-handkerchiefs. It may be supposed that they experienced some feeling of shame. No; they were only thinking of allowing their faces to be seen as little as possible, so that if opportunity presented they might the more easily escape.

"Here we are," said Desfosseux to me: "you see that square building—that is the prison." We alighted at an iron door, guarded inside by a sentry. Having entered the office, we were only registered, our description being deferred until the next day. I perceived, however, that the jailor looked at us, Desfosseux and me, with a sort of curiosity, and I thence concluded that we had been recommended by the officer Hurtrel, who had preceded us a quarter of an hour from the time of the business of the forest of