document. However, this operatic _dilettante_ always appeared with
a fresh one next day. One bloodthirsty republican, Lefebvre, who was
ambitious for musical fame, insisted on singing first characters. He
appeared as _primo tenore_, and was hissed; he then tried his luck as
first bass, and was again hissed by his friends the _sans culottes_.
Enraged by the _fiasco_, he attributed it to the machinations of a
counter-revolution, and nearly persuaded Robespierre to give him a
platoon of musketeers to fire on the infamous emissaries of "Pitt and
Coburg." Yet, though the Reign of Terror was a fearful time for art
and artists, there were sixty-three theatres open, and they were always
crowded in spite of war, famine, and the guillotine.

It was fortunate for Sophie Arnould that her connection with the opera
had closed prior to this dreadful period. As stated previously, she
remained undisturbed during the early years of the Revolution. Only
once a band of _sans culottes_ invaded her retreat. To their suspicious
questions she answered by assurances of loving the republic devotedly.
Her unconsciously satirical smile aroused distrust, and they were about
hurrying her off to prison, when she pointed out a bust of Gluck, and
inquired if she would keep a bust of Marat if she were not loyal to
the republic. This satisfied her intelligent inquisitors, and they
retreated, saying, "She is a good _citoyenne_, after all," as they
saluted the marble. During this time she was still rich, having thirty
thousand livres a year. But misfortunes thickened, and in two years she
had lost nearly every franc. Obliged to go to Paris to try to save the
wreck of her estate, she found her hosts of friends dissipated like the
dew, all guillotined, shot, exiled, or imprisoned.

A gleam of sunshine came, however, in the kindness of Fouché, the
Minister of Police, an old lover. One morning the Minister received