has," said a peasant, in a low voice.

"Poor fellow!" said George; "he was not meant for trials like these; the
cares he used to bury in his mother's lap met other consolations than
our ruder ones. Look up, Bouvet, my man, and remember you are a man."

The youth trembled from head to foot, and looked fearfully around, as
if dreading something, while he clutched the strong arm beside him, as
though for protection.

"Courage, boy, courage!" said George. "We are together here; what can
harm you?"

Then dropping his voice, and turning to the rest, he added, "They have
been tampering with his reason; his eye betrays a wandering intellect.
Take him with you, Claude,--he loves you; and do not leave him for a
moment."

The youth pressed George's fingers to his pale lips, and with his head
bent down and listless gait, moved slowly away.

As I wandered from the spot, my heart was full of all I had witnessed.
The influence of their chief had surprised me on the night of the
attack on the chateau. But how much more wonderful did it seem now when
confined within the walls of a prison,--the only exit to which was the
path that led to the guillotine! Yet was their reliance on all he said
as great, as implicit their faith in him, as warm their affection, as
though success had crowned each effort he suggested, and that fortune
had been as kind as she had proved adverse to his enterprise.

Such were the _Chohans_ in the Temple. Life had presented to their hardy
natures too many vicissitudes to make them quail beneath the horrors of
a prison; death they had confronted in many shapes, and they feared it
not even at the hands of the executioner. Loyalty to the exiled family
of France was less a political than a religious feeling,--one inculcated
at the altar, and carried home to the fireside of the cottage. Devotion
to their King was a part of their faith; the sovereign was but a saint
the more in their calendar. The glorious triumphs of the Revolutionary
armies, the great conquests of the Consulate, found no sympathy within
their bosoms; they neither joined the battle nor partook of the ovation.
They looked on all such as the passing pageant of the hour, and muttered
to one another that the bon Dieu could not bless a nation that was false
to its King.

Who could see them as they met each morning, and not feel deeply
interested in these brave but simple peasants? At daybreak they knelt
together in prayer, their chief officiating a