the poor duke. What if you were to come and pay him a visit with me,
there is not probably one favour the whole world could bestow he would
value so highly. You must often have heard his name from the prince; has
he not frequently spoken of the Count de Maurepas?' I could not remember
having ever heard the name. 'It is historical, however,' said the cure,
'and even in our own days has not derogated from its ancient chivalry.
Have you not heard how a noble of the Court rode postillion to the
king's carriage on the celebrated escape from Varennes? Well, even for
curiosity's sake, he is worth a visit, for this is the very Count Henri
de Maurepas, now on the verge of the grave!'

If the good cure had known me all my life, he could not more
successfully have baited a trap for my curiosity. To see and know
remarkable people, men who had done something out of the ordinary route
of everyday life, had been a passion with me from boyhood. Hero-worship
was, indeed, a great feature in my character, and has more or less
influenced all my career, nor was I insensible to the pleasure of doing
a kind action. It was rare, indeed, that one so humbly placed could ever
confer a favour, and I grasped with eagerness the occasion to do so. We
agreed, then, on the next afternoon, towards nightfall, to meet at
the quay, and proceed together to the count's residence. I have often
reflected, since that day, that Lisette's name was scarcely ever
mentioned by either of us during this interview; and yet, at the time,
so preoccupied were my thoughts, I never noticed the omission. The
Chateau of Ettenheim, and its tragic story, filled my mind to the
exclusion of all else.

I pass over the long and dreary hours that intervened, and come at
once to the time, a little after sunset, when we met at our accustomed
rendezvous.

The cure had provided a _fiacre_ for the occasion, as the count's
residence was about two leagues from the city, on the way to Belleville.
As we trotted along, he gave me a most interesting account of the
old noble, whose life had been one continued act of devotion to the
monarchy.

'It will be difficult,' said he, 'for you to connect the poor, worn-out,
shattered wreck before you, with all that was daring in deed and
chivalrous in sentiment; but the "Maurepas" were well upheld in all
their glorious renown, by him who is now to be the last of the race! You
will see him reduced by suffering and sickness, scarcely able to speak,
bu