"We are all equal," said the usurper. "Let him take the place from me, and he may have it." I declined the challenge, and slunk off at the back of the crowd, which was all too busy and expectant to heed whether I got a view or not. What I heard that morning was bad enough. There was the sound of the drums and the dull rumble of wheels, drowned by yells and shouts from the men and screams from the women; then a silence, when no one stirred, but every neck was craned forward to see; then a sudden tap of the drum; then the harsh crash of the knife; then a gasp from a thousand throats, and a great yell of "_Vive la Liberte_." Three times I heard it all. Then the spectacle was at an end, and the crowd dispersed. I kept a keen look-out among the groups that straggled past me for the bent figure of Mr Lestrange, but no sign of him could I see. After all, thought I, this errand of mine to Paris was to be all for nothing, when close by I perceived Citoyenne Duport walking aloof from the crowd and bending her steps towards the gardens. I resolved, cost what it might, not to lose sight of her, and followed her at a distance till the paths were quite deserted. Then I quickened my steps and came up with her. "Madame Duport," said I boldly, "I am the messenger you and Mr Lestrange expect." She looked round at me with blanched face, and held up her hand with a gesture of silence. "No, no," said she, "I am not Madame Duport. You mistake, my friend." "Madame need not fear me; I am no _mouchard_. I overheard all you and Mr Lestrange said last night. Here is the letter I bear to Depute Duport. Either I must deliver it myself or ask madame to do so." She held out her hand for it. "We are at your mercy," said she. "Is this from Lord Edward himself?" "I know nothing of it, madame," said I, and recounted the story of how I had come by the missive in the wood near Morlaix. She sighed, and said,-- "John Cassidy is happier where he lies than we are. Is this your only missive?" "No; I have a letter for Mr Lestrange, and beg you to tell me his address." At that moment she looked round, and gave a little scream as first a footstep, then a voice, fell on her ear. "Adele," said a lean, bilious-looking man, with a hard, pinched face and knit lips, approaching from one of the side-walks--"Adele, what do you here?" "My husband," said the lady, so far recovering her composure as to smile and advance to meet him, "you are come in a good moment. This lad bears a missive for you, and, having discovered me in the crowd, was begging me to deliver it for him. Here it is." Duport took the letter with a frigid glance at me as if to say he believed not a word of the story, and mechanically tore it open. I watched his eyebrows give a sudden twitch as he read the contents. "Who gave you this?" demanded he. I repeated my story, which once more he received with an incredulous stare. Then turning to his wife he said, half to himself, half to her,--