ose tall, dark towers stood out against the pinkish sky,
while the deep-toned bell boomed through the still air. I turned towards
the Tuileries, and could see the guard of honor in waiting for
the Emperor's appearing. In the gardens, hundreds were passing and
repassing, or standing around the band which played in front of the
pavilion. A tide of population poured across the bridges and down the
streets, along which equipages and horsemen dashed impetuously onward.
There was all the life and stir of a mighty city, its sounds dulled
by distance, but blended into one hoarse din, like the far-off sea at
night.

"You don't know, Burke, that this was a favorite resort of the courtiers
of the last reign. The gay young Gardes du Corps, the gallant youths of
the royal household, constantly dined here. The terrace we now stand on
once held a party who came at the invitation of no less a personage than
him whom men call Louis the Eighteenth. It was a freak of the time to
pronounce the Court dinners execrable: and they even go so far as to
say that Marie Antoinette herself once planned a party here; but this I
cannot vouch for."

At this moment Duchesne was interrupted by the entrance of the waiters
who came to serve the dinner. I had not a moment left to admire the
beauty and richness of the antique silver dishes which covered the
table, when a gentle tap at the door attracted my attention.

"Ha! Jacotot himself!" said Duchesne, as, rising hastily, he advanced
to meet the new arrival. He was a tall, thin old man, much stooped by
years, but with an air and carriage distinctly well bred; his white
hair, brushed rigidly back, fastened into a queue behind, and his lace
"jabot" and ruffles, bespoke him as the remnant of a date long past. His
coat was blue, of a shade somewhat lighter than is usually worn. He also
wore large buckles in his shoes, whose brilliancy left no doubt of their
real value. Bowing with great ceremony, he advanced slowly into the
room.

"You are come to dine with us,--is it not so, Jacotot?" said Duchesne,
as he still held his hand.

"Excuse me, my dear chevalier; the Comte de Chambord and Edouard de
Courcelles are below,--I have promised to join them."

"And is Courcelles here?"

"Yes," said the old man, with a timid glance towards where I sat, and a
look as if imploring caution and reserve.

"Oh, fear nothing. And that reminds me I have not presented my friend
and brother officer: Captain Burke,--Monsi