cheers they once felt proud of: and
there, the artillery, that glorious corps which he loved so well,--did
not the roll of their guns sound sorrowfully on the ear!

They passed! And then came on a strange cortege of mounted
cavaliers,--old and withered men, in uniforms of quaint antique fashion,
their chapeaux decorated with great cockades of white ribbon, and their
sword-knots garnished with similar ornaments; the order of St. Louis
glittered on each breast, and in their bearing you might read the air of
men who were enjoying a long-wished-for and long-expected triumph. These
were the old seigneurs of the Monarchy; and truly they were not wanting
in that look of nobility their ancient blood bestowed. Their features
were proud; their glance elated; their very port and bearing spoke that
consciousness of superiority, to crush which had cost all the horrors
and bloodshed of a terrible Revolution. How strange! it seemed as if
many of their faces were familiar to me,--I knew them well; but where,
and how, my memory could not trace. Yes, now I could recall it: they
were the frequenters of the old "Pension of the Rue de Mi-Careme,"--the
same men I had seen in their day of adversity, bearing up with noble
pride against the ills of fortune. There they were, revelling in the
long-sought-after restoration of their former state. Were they not more
worthy of admiration in their hour of patient and faithful watching,
than in this the period of their triumph?

The pressure of the crowd obliged the cavalcade to halt. And now the air
resounded with the cries of "Vive le Roi!"--the long-forgotten cheer
of loyalty. Thousands re-echoed the shout, and the horsemen waved their
hats in exultation. "Vive le Roi!" cried the mob, as though the voices
had not called "Vive l'Empereur!" but yesterday.

"Down with the Napoleonist,--down with him!" screamed a savage-looking
fellow, who, jammed up in the crowd, pointed towards me, as I stood a
mere spectator of the scene.

"Cry 'Vive le Roi!' at once," whispered a voice near me, "or the
consequences may be serious. The mob is ungovernable at a moment like
this."

A dozen voices shouted out at the same time, "Down with him! down with
him!"

"Off with your hat, sir!" said a rude-looking fellow beside me, as he
raised his hand to remove it.

"At your peril!" said I, as I clenched my hand, and prepared to strike
him down the moment he should touch me.

The words were not well uttered, when the