“A lady did come forth at last. I thought she might bear a message from me to the queen, and followed her. This lady was proud, thoughtful, and imperious, and I approached her timidly; still there was a look that brought back the fair young princess whom I saw once standing side by side with my imperial mistress,—young, slender, beautiful, with eyes soft and bright as a pretty child’s. Ah, how well I remember them both! They tell me the empress is dead; but her daughter, the lovely girl that came to France, her destiny is yet to be accomplished. Ah me!” The old man broke off here, and fell to shuddering. A wild, mournful look came to his face, and it was some minutes before he spoke again. “I spoke to the lady and she listened kindly. All at; once she lifted her hand; the scarabee ring was upon it. Then I knew it was the queen, and uttered a cry that frightened her, and she fled from me. I followed, pleading for my ring, entreating her to listen. But she only fled from me all the faster, carrying the curse on and on. “Then I saw the king. He came to me in the calm of the moonlight, and we talked together in the stillness of the hushed leaves. He knows all that I have suffered, and pities the poor man no will of his ever harmed. He gave me a place to sleep in. He came to me in the morning and deigned to explain that the governor of this prison deceived him as you were deceived. He thought truly that I was dead.” “I knew it, I was sure of it,” cried Marguerite, with enthusiasm; “both the king and queen were blameless.” “It was for that I fled hither from the mob,” said the old man. “These women meant to set me up before the Assembly and call for vengeance in my name, but I defeated them.” “It was then that you came back here. Oh father, you little know how we have mourned and sought for you, day and night.” “Yes, I found the ruins and slept here the next night.—Slept soundly for the first time since the mob carried me away. Then I began searching for my poor little friend. It was in vain that I called for him; in vain that I stretched forth my hands in the darkness, and listened for some faint sound of his approach. Oh! that was desolation! “Still, I dared not quit the ruin. I was afraid that the mob would force me into their evil work again. I understood then that my presence in the clubs, my harmless walks in the streets, every word I spoke, was a spear leveled at the heart of the king—a man who was guiltless as a babe where I was concerned—a man who loves his people and deserves their love. Here I hide myself and keep safe from doing harm. It is my own home; here I can sleep tranquilly; boards are too soft, I want the hard rock.