December 1868 that no cause had been shown for
re-opening the case, and that Virginia Lesurques had not made good her
claim to revision."

It is as though one were enthralled by a horrible dream, in which some
poor wretch was being delivered into the hands of the Furies. Ever
since the fatal meal, no less tragic than that of Thyestes, which
Lesurques took at Guesno's house, events have been dragging him nearer
and nearer the gulf that yawns at his feet; while his destiny, hovering
above him like an enormous vulture, hides the light from those who
approach him. And the circles from above press magically forward to
meet those from below: they advance, they contract, and then, uniting
at last, their eddies blend and fasten upon what is now a corpse.

Here, truly, the combination of murderous fatalities may well seem
supernatural; and the case is typical, it is formidable, it is as
symbolic as a myth. But there can be no doubt that analogous chains of
circumstances reproduce themselves daily in the countless petty or
ridiculous mortifications of merely ordinary lives which are beneath
the influence of an evil or malicious star.

[2] The misfortunes of the Stuarts are well known; those of the
Colignys are less familiar. Of these last the author we have already
cited gives the following lucid account:--"Gaspard de Coligny, Marshal
of France under Francis I., was married to the sister of the Constable
Anne de Montmorency. He was reproached with having delayed by half a
day his attack on Charles V., at a time when such might have been most
advantageously offered, and with having thereby let slip an almost
certain opportunity of victory. One of his sons, who had been made
Archbishop and Cardinal, embraced Protestantism, and was married in his
red cassock. He fought against the King at the battle of St. Denis,
and fled to England, where, in the year 1571, a servant of his
attempted to poison him. He escaped, however, and, seeking
subsequently to return to France, was captured at Rochelle, condemned
to death, and executed. The Admiral de Coligny, brother of the
Cardinal, was reputed one of the greatest captains of his time: he did
marvels at the defence of Saint-Quentin. The place, however, was taken
by storm, and he was made a prisoner of war. Having become the real
leader of the Calvinists, under the Prince de Conde, he displayed the
most undaunted courage and extraordinary fertility of resource; neither
his merit