sand people have been put to
death, not counting the loss in La Vendee."

"Which must be quite as much more, Edouard; and it is no
consolation to know that the loss of the Blues must have been fully
equal to ours."

"How is it to end, monsieur?"

"I think that the first part will end soon. As far as I could find
out as we travelled through the country, and in Paris, even the mob
are getting sick of this terrible bloodshed. That feeling will get
stronger, until finally I believe that Robespierre and his gang
will be overturned. What will come after that, I don't know. One
may hope that some strong man will rise, drive out the Convention,
and establish a fixed government. After that, I should say that no
one can guess what will follow."

"There is one consolation, monsieur. No change can be for the
worse."

"That is absolutely certain."

He went to the galley.

"Well, cook, when are you going to let us have some breakfast? I am
famishing, for I have eaten nothing since twelve o'clock
yesterday."

"It will be ready in twenty minutes, monsieur. I was just going to
ask you if you would call the ladies, or whether you will take the
cafe au lait and eggs to their door."

"I will go and ask them."

He went and knocked at the cabin door.

"Patsey, cafe au lait will be ready in twenty minutes. Will you and
Madame Flambard take it in your cabin, or come into the saloon?"

"I am just dressed, and shall be up on deck with Louis in two or
three minutes. Madame Flambard will not get up. It is her first
voyage, and she will not take anything to eat."

He was just going to knock at the merchant's door, when there was a
shout from within:

"I have heard what you are saying, and shall be dressed in ten
minutes."

Patsey was soon on deck.

"This is splendid, Leigh! And now that we have got away so
wonderfully, I feel more hopeful than I have done before that Jean,
also, will have made his escape.

"Well, Louis, what do you think of this? You had better keep hold
of your uncle's hand, as well as mine, or you may get a nasty
tumble."

"Nasty, bad ship, mama?"

"It is because the wind is blowing hard, and the sea is rough. We
had smooth water on our last voyage, you know."

"Louis not like him," he said positively; "very bad ship."

"You will be all right, if you keep hold of your uncle's hand. He
will walk up and down with you."

"This is good, indeed," Monsieur Flambard said. "If we go on as
well as we have