"Yes, Sir; this bag has just arrived, with several important despatches which require your immediate attention." The President looked for a moment as if he would like to tell Miguel to take himself and his despatches to the infernal regions; but he repressed the inclination. "Good, I will come. I shall see you at breakfast to-morrow, my dear, till then, farewell," and giving her a weary smile he walked off. Thus it is that great men enjoy the power they risk their lives to gain and often meet their deaths to hold. Lucile was left alone, not for the first time when she had wanted companionship and sympathy. She was conscious of an unsatisfactory sensation with regard to existence generally. It was one of those moments when the prizes and penalties of life seem equally stale and futile. She sought refuge in excitement. The project she had conceived the night before began to take actual shape in her mind; yes, she would hear him speak. Going to her room she rang the bell. The maid came quickly. "What time is the meeting to-night?" "At eight, Your Excellency," said the girl. "You have a ticket for it?" "Yes, my brother----" "Well, give it to me; I want to hear this man speak. He will attack the Government; I must be there to report to the President." The maid looked astonished, but gave up the ticket meekly. For six years she had been Lucile's maid, and was devoted to her young and beautiful mistress. "What will Your Excellency wear?" was her only remark. "Something dark, with a thick veil," said Lucile. "Don't speak of this to anyone." "Oh no, Your Ex----" "Not even to your brother." "Oh, no, Your Excellency." "Say I have a headache and have gone to bed. You must go to your room yourself." The maid hurried off to get the dress and bonnet. Lucile felt full of the nervous excitement her resolve had raised. It was an adventure, it would be an experience, more than that, she would see him. The crowd,--when she thought of them she felt a little frightened, but then she remembered that women frequently went to these demonstrations, and there would be plenty of police to keep order. She dressed herself hastily in the clothes that the maid brought, and descending the stairs, entered the garden. It was already dusk, but Lucile had no difficulty in finding her way to a small private gate in the wall, which her key unlocked. She stepped into the street. All was very quiet. The gas lamps flared in a long double row till they almost met in the distant perspective. A few people were hurrying in the direction of the City-Hall. She followed them. CHAPTER X. THE WAND OF THE MAGICIAN.