Note 1 — AN INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF MADLLE CLAIRON.

‘Nothing was heard for some days; but, having been invited by Mademoiselle Dumesnil [1] to join a little evening party at her house near the Barrière blanche, I got into a hackney-coach at eleven o’clock with my maid. It was clear moonlight as we passed along the Boulevards, which were then beginning to be studded with houses. While we were looking at the half-finished buildings, my maid said, “Was it not in this neighbourhood that M. de S—— died?” “From what I have heard,” I answered, “I think it should be there”—pointing with my finger to a house before us. From that house came the same gunshot that I had heard before. It seemed to traverse our carriage, and the coachman set off at full speed, thinking we were attacked by robbers. We arrived at Mademoiselle Dumesnil’s in a state of the utmost terror; a feeling I did not get rid of for a long time.’