The Strand Magazine : an illustrated monthly. Vol. 1, no. 4, April 1891 / edited by George Newnes.

Date:
1891
Catalogue details

Licence: Public Domain Mark

Credit: The Strand Magazine : an illustrated monthly. Vol. 1, no. 4, April 1891 / edited by George Newnes. Source: Wellcome Collection.

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    myself down on the stones and kill my¬ self ? Still, I went on slowly, slowly, expecting every minute to see the door shut by. the poor fellows as a frail and useless obstacle to a certain capture ; and I was so in¬ terested in their fate that I forgot my own danger. We had reached the centre of the ledge when suddenly the agent stopped, and, turning towards those who followed, said : “ Look ! spiders’ webs ! ” and he pointed to the entrance of the granary. And, in fact, by a providential chance, a large spider’s web, torn when I opened the door, had remained hanging on the woodwork ; and the insect had, during the few hours of the night, partly repaired the damage. The fresh threads crossed the whole space of the opening, and nobody could imagine for a moment that men had passed through that space that very night without breaking the whole of the web. Yes, my child, a spider, a simple spider, had done it. But one cannot help thinking that the good God had something to do with it. u It is useless to go further,” said the agent. Between you and me I believe the fat fellow was not sorry at heart, for he was dreadfully afraid of rolling down below, and pride alone had sustained him. There is little need to say more. The Girondins were saved, and I with them. The agent went off, followed by his hus¬ sars ; and the other soldiers marched away soon afterwards. As soon as the chapel was empty I ran to the granary. It is not necessary to tell you with what protestations of gratitude I was received. One second more, and, as I had expected, they would have shut the door, which would have been fatal ; but Providence willed it otherwise. We gave them something to eat, and they remained all the day with us ; for it would have been imprudent to have left before night. When night came they left us, after having thanked me much more than I de¬ served. I had done my duty—nothing more. We followed them with our eyes upon the road as long as we could. Then they disappeared in the darkness. Did they escape ? Were they discovered, and killed on their way ? I have never heard. But I have rejoiced all my life that I, delicate as I am, was able to go through so much without breaking down. Madame Ba- douillet and Madame were both ill afterwards. And that is my story.