There, too, in the falling light, one perceives the faces of Louis XVI and his Queen, Marie Antoinette, the two most notable and pitiful victims of the Reign of Terror--a reign, forsooth, in which these ill-starred sovereigns, the descendants of generations of kings, were but the poorest and saddest of subjects. The vista is long and hazy, but it is not too dim for one to observe upon a bracket the visage of the great Voltaire, with its leering eyes and sardonic grin. His bust is _vis-à-vis_ with the ponderous head of the idealist Rousseau, with its heavy forehead and its short, narrow chin. And so face after face peers down upon me, carrying the mind back with unfailing steps until is reached the true source from which this dramatic story springs. * * * * * [Illustration: CHRISTOPHER CURTIUS Uncle of Mme. Tussaud and founder of the Museum in Paris during the French Revolution in the Boulevard du Temple. A Portrait Study by John T. Tussaud.] In the year 1758, so far afield as the city of Berne, a certain young Swiss, named Christopher Curtius, was earnestly employing his days as a medical practitioner. With the object of improving himself in his profession he had taken to modelling the limbs and organs of the human body in wax. He soon extended the scope of his labours to the execution of many miniature portraits in that same plastic material, and gained the patronage of many of the leading members of the aristocracy. In this work he succeeded well, and towards his latter days in Berne he practised rather as an artist than as a family doctor. It is as the maternal uncle of Madame Tussaud, the subject of these memoirs, that Christopher Curtius comes under our consideration. Madame Tussaud was the child of one Joseph Grosholtz, who lost his life when serving on the Staff of General Wurmser during the Seven Years’ War, a couple of months or so before she was born. He was of purely Swiss parentage, and the family to this day prides itself on being of Burgundian Swiss stock. Although Marie Grosholtz was not married until the year 1795, it will be well to refer to her henceforth as Madame Tussaud, under which name she is universally known. Madame Grosholtz and her child seem to have been the only relatives possessed by Curtius, who later induced his sister to take up her residency with him, doubtless with the object of taking control of the affairs of his household. It was when Curtius had fully established himself as an artist in Berne that an incident took place, about the year 1762, which led to important consequences. The Prince de Conti had been losing favour at the Court of his royal cousin, Louis XV, a circumstance mainly due, we are told, to the Prince’s excessive popularity with the Army and a certain independent bearing he adopted towards the King and his favourites. The King’s mistress, Madame de Pompadour, did not hesitate to show her resentment at de Conti’s lack of deference.