On an evening in the month of November, 1793, the principal persons of
Carentan were assembled in the salon of Madame de Dey, where they met
daily. Several circumstances which would never have attracted
attention in a large town, though they greatly preoccupied the little
one, gave to this habitual rendezvous an unusual interest. For the two
preceding evenings Madame de Dey had closed her doors to the little
company, on the ground that she was ill. Such an event would, in
ordinary times, have produced as much effect as the closing of the
theatres in Paris; life under those circumstances seems merely
incomplete. But in 1793, Madame de Dey's action was likely to have
fatal results. The slightest departure from a usual custom became,
almost invariably for the nobles, a matter of life or death. To fully
understand the eager curiosity and searching inquiry which animated on
this occasion the Norman countenances of all these rejected visitors,
but more especially to enter into Madame de Dey's secret anxieties, it
is necessary to explain the role she played at Carentan. The critical
position in which she stood at this moment being that of many others
during the Revolution the sympathies and recollections of more than
one reader will help to give color to this narrative.

Madame de Dey, widow of a lieutenant-general, chevalier of the Orders,
had left the court at the time of the emigration. Possessing a good
deal of property in the neighborhood of Carentan, she took refuge in
that town, hoping that the influence of the Terror would be little
felt there. This expectation, based on a knowledge of the region, was
well-founded. The Revolution committed but few ravages in Lower
Normandy. Though Madame de Dey had known none but the nobles of her