Even with the gaiety of the scene around us we cannot altogether forget what has occurred here, or wonder what may not yet occur, for it is quite within the possibilities that future revolutionists may carry out the intention of Robespierre and establish the guillotine within this court as a permanence,--an intention thwarted only by his death. Certainly he was nothing if not picturesque. The grim court of this old fortress would form a picturesque surrounding for his pet instrument of destruction, and the last glimpse afforded its victims of the world they were to leave would be one of the most beautiful that the world contains. The contemplation of it holds me long to-day, but time flies, we must move on, and so, entering our red car, we drop away from St.-Germain speeding down the hillside, rushing through village after village, crossing and re-crossing the river, skimming onward through the beautiful Bois de Boulogne, where all Paris is coming outward to the races, and so through the grand avenues, past the Arch of the Star, and into the court of the hotel where the auto vanishes and we rest for a season. CHAPTER XXV PARIS AND HER SO-CALLED REPUBLICAN GOVERNMENT--NECESSITY FOR AN AUTOMOBILE--THE RIDE TO CHARTRES--CATHEDRAL NOTRE DAME--THE AQUEDUCT AT MAINTENON AND ITS BURDEN OF SORROW--THE CASTLE OF MAINTENON--MADAME AND LOUIS XIV.--ST. CYR AND HER DEATH--RETURN TO PARIS. Paris is _en fête_ for the coming of the little Spanish King, and as the shadows lengthen, he passes in state, down the Avenue of the Champs-Élysées,--a delicate, pale-faced boy, with apparently no constitution. The French nation may be on the downward path, but this city of Paris is gay to-day with no fear of the handwriting on the wall. One seems to _live_, here, as in no other capital in the world; all the others are work-a-day where, to their credit be it said, business and the serious side of life are ever foremost; but here, all is pleasure and for pleasure, while work is shoved far off into the distant quarters of the city. To a citizen from a real republic, this of France seems one in name only. These people so dearly love the pomp and glitter of fine pageants that the simplicity of our republican nation could not be endured. One would judge that there are as many titles in France at the present time as before the great Revolution and I doubt the arrival of the day when they will be things of the past, to-day at least they are recognised in France and receive all due respect socially and politically.