my
grade withdrawn, and be reduced to the ranks; there, perhaps, I may be
permitted to carry a soldier's musket without a stain upon my honor."

"You can do better, sir," interrupted he, as his face grew purple with
passion, and his eyes flashed fire, "far better: call up your dragoons
yonder, and place me, where you threatened, under arrest; forward your
report to the minister, that Henri de Beauvais, Marquis et Pair de
France when such things were, has been taken with the 'Croix de St.
Louis' and the cordon in his possession." Here he took from his bosom
the decoration, and waved it above his head. "Add, too, that he came
prepared to tempt your loyalty with this." He drew forth at the words a
parchment document, and dashed it on the table before me. "There, sir,
read it; it is the King's own handwriting,--your brevet of colonel to
a regiment of the Gardes. Such proofs of your devotion can scarcely go
unrewarded. They may raise you to the rank of police spy. There is a
lady yonder, too, who should also share in your elevation, as she does
in your loyal sentiments; Mademoiselle de Meudon may be too quick for
you. Lose no time, sir; such chances as these are not the fruit of
every day. After all, I can scarcely go to the guillotine under better
auspices than with my cousin and my friend as my betrayers. Mayhap, too,
they 'll do you the honor to make you mount guard beside the scaffold.
Such an occasion to display your devotion should not escape you,--David
found it profitable to catch the expiring agonies of his own friends, as
with easel and brush he sat beside the guillotine: the hint should not
be lost."

The insulting emphasis with which he spoke the last words cut me to
the very heart, and I stood speechless before him, trembling like a
criminal.

"Let us part, De Beauvais," said I, at length, as I held my hand towards
him. "Let us say adieu to each other, and forever. I can forgive all
you have said to me, far better than I could myself had I listened to
your persuasions. What may be honorable and just in you, would be black
ingratitude and dark treachery in me. I shall now endeavor to forget we
have ever met, and once more, good-by!"

"You are right," replied he, after a pause of some seconds, and in a
tone of great sadness; "we never should have met. Adieu!"

"One word more, De Beauvais. I find that I have been suspected of some
treasonable intercourse; that even here I am watched and spied upon.
Tell me,