Such light as there was between the high houses came from dim oil lamps slung from wall to wall and far apart. There was light also in the guardroom at the corner of the archway, and there a militiaman stood sentry with fixed bayonet, for every issue from the palace was thus guarded. The street was full of people coming and going from that little town the Tuileries, and as the hour wore on, the great equipages of those who attended court passed in to take their masters up at the royal porch and passed out again on their way homeward. Fersen knew that the last ceremonies would not be over until very late, but that did not relieve his increasing anxiety. The darkness seemed to grow more profound as he waited. He watched with as little show as might be the throngs that passed back and forth through the archway. He saw no figure of those he was awaiting until, when it was quite dark--for though there was a moon, the curtain of clouds grew thick--he saw, or thought he saw, seated upon a stone bench against one of the great houses, a woman whose attitude even in that gloom he thought he recognised. With the same leisurely pace of a man free from employment he sauntered past, noted the gray dress and broad, gray veiled hat under the dim light of the distant lamps, and the veil about the face, and coming closer still, knew that it was Madame Elizabeth, the king’s sister. He spoke in a whisper, without turning to her or stopping as he went slowly by. He made an imperceptible movement of the head toward the cab, saying, “They wait for you.” She did not move, and he feared for a moment that she might not have understood what he had said nor recognized him, for he dared not linger. He paced back again toward his charge and again whispered the words as he passed, still looking down at the ground; and this time the woman rose, went to the cab, and entered it. The lights behind the shutters of the great houses had gone out, the distant noises in the palace hard by had ceased, the last of the equipages were rumbling through the archway, and still there was no sign of new-comers for him. It was long past midnight, nearly one o’clock. Another of the cabmen in the rank spoke to him. He answered as best he could with the manner, accent, and slang of the trade. He offered this unwelcome friend a pinch of snuff from a rough box; then he went back as though to look to his horses, felt their legs, stood about them a little, and patted them. There was still, but very rarely, a belated servant or so passing out from under the arch, and at last, when his fever of expectation was at the height, he distinguished two such, a man and a woman, coming toward him unhurriedly. As they came nearer, and the feeble glimmer of the lamps showed [Illustration: THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY PETRIFIED. THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY REVIVIFIED Caricatures by Gillray _To face p. 58_ ]