er heard of it. It is nowhere near to Twickenham or Claremont, nor is
it in Buckinghamshire. The rest of England--no one knows." Albert paused
and held up one hand for silence.

"At last," he read--"at last, my friends, after a lifetime of fruitless
search, it seems that I have found--through the good offices of
Dormer Colville--not the man we have sought, but his son. We have long
suspected that Louis XVII. must be dead. Madame herself, in her exile at
Frohsdorff, has admitted to her intimates that she no longer hoped. But
here in the full vigour of youth--a sailor, strong and healthy, living
a simple life on shore as at sea--I have found a man whose face, whose
form, and manner would clearly show to the most incredulous that he
could be no other than the son of Louis XVII. A hundred tricks of manner
and gesture he has inherited from the father he scarce remembers, from
the grandfather who perished on the guillotine many years before he
himself was born. No small proof of the man's sincerity is the fact that
only now, after long persuasion, has he consented to place himself in
our hands. I thought of hurrying at once to Frohsdorff to present to the
aged Duchess a youth whom she cannot fail to recognize as her nephew.
But better counsels have prevailed. Dormer Colville, to whom we owe
so much, has placed us in his farther debt for a piece of sage advice.
'Wait,' he advises, 'until the young man has learned what is expected
of him, until he has made the personal acquaintance of his supporters.
Reserve until the end the presentation to the Duchesse d'Angouleme,
which must only be made when all the Royalists in France are ready to
act with a unanimity which will be absolute, and an energy which must
prove irresistible.'

"There are more material proofs than a face so strongly resembling that
of Louis XVI. and Monsieur d'Artois, in their early manhood, as to
take the breath away; than a vivacity inherited from his grandmother,
together with an independence of spirit and impatience of restraint;
than the slight graceful form, blue eyes, and fair skin of the little
prisoner of the Temple. There are dates which go to prove that this
boy's father was rescued from a sinking fishing-boat, near Dieppe, a few
days after the little Dauphin was known to have escaped from the Temple,
and to have been hurried to the north coast disguised as a girl. There
is evidence, which Monsieur Colville is now patiently gathering from
these slow-s