see the deputy's wife, who never
looked our way, but sat with her eyes fixed on the dreadful machine.

The old man looked across at her once and again, and then tried
nervously to join in the general talk, and nod assent to the loyal
sentiments of those who crowded near.

As for me, I was too sick even to keep up appearances, and was thankful
when one rough interloper shouldered me from my place and sent me
sprawling down among the feet of the onlookers.

"Shame! Let the young citoyen have a view," called some one.

"We are all equal," said the usurper. "Let him take the place from me,
and he may have it."

I declined the challenge, and slunk off at the back of the crowd, which
was all too busy and expectant to heed whether I got a view or not.

What I heard that morning was bad enough. There was the sound of the
drums and the dull rumble of wheels, drowned by yells and shouts from
the men and screams from the women; then a silence, when no one stirred,
but every neck was craned forward to see; then a sudden tap of the drum;
then the harsh crash of the knife; then a gasp from a thousand throats,
and a great yell of "_Vive la Liberte_." Three times I heard it all.
Then the spectacle was at an end, and the crowd dispersed.

I kept a keen look-out among the groups that straggled past me for the
bent figure of Mr Lestrange, but no sign of him could I see. After
all, thought I, this errand of mine to Paris was to be all for nothing,
when close by I perceived Citoyenne Duport walking aloof from the crowd
and bending her steps towards the gardens. I resolved, cost what it
might, not to lose sight of her, and followed her at a distance till the
paths were quite deserted.

Then I quickened my steps and came up with her.

"Madame Duport," said I boldly, "I am the messenger you and Mr
Lestrange expect."

She looked round at me with blanched face, and held up her hand with a
gesture of silence.

"No, no," said she, "I am not Madame Duport. You mistake, my friend."

"Madame need not fear me; I am no _mouchard_. I overheard all you and
Mr Lestrange said last night. Here is the letter I bear to Depute
Duport. Either I must deliver it myself or ask madame to do so."

She held out her hand for it.

"We are at your mercy," said she. "Is this from Lord Edward himself?"

"I know nothing of it, madame," said I, and recounted the story of how I
had come by the missive in the wood near Morlaix.

She sighed, and