s there was no hope for the
latter, their atrocities had been such that the whole land, from
Normandy to Guyenne, was now in arms against them.

And in Paris, the hot pit whence had issued the storm of foulness that
blasted the fair kingdom of France after laying low the hallowed heads
of a good king and a beautiful queen, in Paris, leaders and led were
now chopping each other's heads off, _a qui mieux mieux_. "Those
thinkers, those lofty patriots, _hein, beau cousin_, for whom, it
seems, you have an admiration," commented the lady, interrupting her
account to sip her cup of cream and chocolate, with a little finger
daintily cocked, and shoot a mocking shaft at the young philosopher
from the depth of her black eyes.

"Like demented wolves they are destroying each other--Pray the God of
Justice," quoted she from her husband's letter, "that it may only
last; in a few months, then, there will be none of them left, and the
people, relieved from this rule of blood, will all clamour for the
true order of things, and the poor country may again know peace and
happiness. Meanwhile, all has yet to be won, by much devotion and
self-sacrifice in the cause of God and King; and afterwards will come
the reward!...

"And the revenge," added Madame de Savenaye, with a little, fierce
laugh, folding the sanguine budget of news. "Oh! they must leave us a
few for revenge! How we shall make the hounds smart when the King
returns to his own! And then for pleasures and for life again. And we
may yet meet at the mansion of Savenaye, in Paris," she went on gaily,
"my good uncle and fair cousins, for the King cannot fail to recall
his faithful supporter. And there will be feasts and balls. And there,
maybe, we shall be able to repay in part some of your kindness and
hospitality. And you, cousin Adrian, you will have to take me through
pavanne and gavotte and minuet; and I shall be proud of my northern
cavalier. What! not know how one dances the gavotte? _Fi donc!_ what
ignorance! I shall have to teach you. Your hand, monsieur," slipping
the missive from the seat of war into her fair bosom. "La! not that
way; with a _grace_, if you please," making a profound curtsey. "Ah,
still that cold hand; your great English heart must be a very
furnace. Come, point your right foot--so. And look round at your
partner with--what shall I say--_admiration serieuse_!"

That she saw admiration, serious enough in all conscience in Adrian's
eyes, there was littl