It Is Done... The Precious Portrait Placed

And Now, Dear Sister, I Must Leave This House Or The Retreating Army Will Make Me A Prisoner In It By Filling Up The Road I Am Directed To Take.

It Is One Of My Sources Of Happiness Never To Desire A Knowledge Of Other People's Business.

I Would Rather Fight With My Hands Than My Tongue.

At This Late Hour A Wagon Has Been Procured, And I Have Had It Filled With Plate And The Most Valuable Portable Articles, Belonging To The House.

Two Messengers Covered With Dust Come To Bid Me Fly, But I Wait For Him.