Monsieur Jacques knew well enough that it was the queen to whom he was to address himself. When the two royal personages were together, her energy was sure to prevail. While he looked proud and unyielding, he seemed anxious, if not distressed. “This man, lady, can be the friend of royalty, and the friend of the people; take him into your councils—not publicly, that might not be prudent—but let him come to you, time by time, fresh from the people; let him bring the two elements of human power, statesmanship and labor, into harmony. He can do it—he will do it. It is the work for a great mind like his.” “And what is the name of this wonderful personage?” inquired the queen, speaking in cool and bitter irony. “The Count de Mirabeau.” “Enough!” cried the queen, rising from her seat. “When we need the help of this admirable gentleman, he shall be notified. But the King of France is not so near his downfall as to require support like that.” Louis arose, greatly agitated. “My angel,” he said, kissing her hand, “is not this a rash message? Can we afford to repulse a man like this?” “When we cannot, the monarchy of France is no longer worth preserving,” answered Marie vehemently. “The royalty of a great nation must protect itself—the trust is too stupendous for demagogues. No, sire, it is not rash.” “But we may, perhaps, wish to reconsider,” expostulated the kind monarch. “Let us send him at least a courteous message.” “Frame it as you will, sire, only let the rejection be positive. From my first sight of this man Mirabeau, I detested him.” “Ah, lady! you could not understand how this great man adored you,” said Jacques. Marie Antoinette drew her figure proudly up to its full height, glanced at the king, and turned upon Monsieur Jacques. “You have our answer concerning this person. Now say what can be done for yourself.” “Nothing! I ask nothing—accept nothing. But the time will come when you will seek this man—he who is now spurned a second time from your feet.” Before the queen could answer this audacious speech, Monsieur Jacques had left the cabinet. CHAPTER XXXIII. ZAMARA BRINGS BAD NEWS FOR HIS MISTRESS. The woman who had given Dame Tillery so much anxiety, sat in the chamber she had so resolutely possessed herself of, waiting for the dinner ordered an hour before. She was wonderfully restive, for oppressive and exciting memories became peculiarly vivid and harassing in that place. With the royal chateau clearly in sight, it was impossible to forget the time when its inmates were almost her slaves; when the daughters of France, in all their royal pride, had been compelled to receive her with honors, while all the assembled nobility of the court witnessed her triumph. Even the haughty and beautiful queen, who reigned there now, had, as Dauphiness, submitted to her companionship at the royal table, in the first flush of her bridal honors.