ollowed these
words was distinctly heard. She rose, and leaning upon the arm of Baron
Marshal, advanced to meet the Princess Wilhelmina, and cast a fierce
glance at the officers, who were assembled in groups and talking in low
tones but earnestly with each other.

Suddenly Belleville, leaning on another officer, advanced from one of
these groups; they walked backward and forward, laughing and chattering
loudly, without regarding the presence of the princess. They then drew
near the orchestra, and called out in a jovial tone:

"Messieurs, have the kindness to play a Dutch waltz, but in the quick
time which the Austrians played at Hochkirch, when they drove the
Prussians before them; and in which Field-Marshal Broglie played at
Bergen, when he tramped upon the Prussians! Play on, messieurs! play
on!"

Belleville then danced forward with great levity of manner to Fraulein
Marshal, who stood by the side of her father; without saluting her, he
seized her hand.

"Come, ma toute belle," said he, "you have played the marble statue long
enough for one day; it is time that you should awake to life in my arms.
Come, then, and dance with me your lascivious Dutch waltz, which no
respectable woman in France would dare to dance! Come! come!"

Belleville tried to drag Fraulein Marshal forward, but at the instant
a powerful and heavy arm was laid upon him, and his hand was dashed off
rudely.

"I have heard you to the end," said Baron Marshal, calmly; "I wished
to see a little of the renowned gallantry of which the Frenchman is so
proud. It appears to me that a strange ton must now reign in Paris,
well suited, perhaps, to the boudoirs of mistresses, but not fitting or
acceptable to the ears of respectable women. I beg you therefore, sir,
not to assume this ton in Berlin; I am resolved not to endure it."

Belleville laughed aloud, drew very near the baron, and looked him
insolently in the face.

"Who are you, monsieur, who dare take the liberty of begging me, who do
not know you, to do or not do any thing?"

"I am Baron Marshal, the father of this lady whom you have dared to
offend!"

Belleville laughed still louder than before.

"Aha! that is a beautiful fairy tale! You who are as hideous as a
baboon, and have borrowed the eyes of the cat!--you the father of the
lovely Galatea Marshal!--tell that tale to other ears--I do not believe
in such aberrations of Nature. I repeat my question: who are you? what
is your name?"

"I