hman, still more cheerfully admitted. And now, is his
fare complete? Not yet; the Glass-coachman still waits.--Alas! and the
false Chambermaid has warned Gouvion that she thinks the Royal Family
will fly this very night; and Gouvion distrusting his own glazed eyes,
has sent express for Lafayette; and Lafayette's Carriage, flaring
with lights, rolls this moment through the inner Arch of the
Carrousel,--where a Lady shaded in broad gypsy-hat, and leaning on the
arm of a servant, also of the Runner or Courier sort, stands aside
to let it pass, and has even the whim to touch a spoke of it with her
badine,--light little magic rod which she calls badine, such as the
Beautiful then wore. The flare of Lafayette's Carriage, rolls past:
all is found quiet in the Court-of-Princes; sentries at their post;
Majesties' Apartments closed in smooth rest. Your false Chambermaid must
have been mistaken? Watch thou, Gouvion, with Argus' vigilance; for, of
a truth, treachery is within these walls.

But where is the Lady that stood aside in gypsy hat, and touched the
wheel-spoke with her badine? O Reader, that Lady that touched the
wheel-spoke was the Queen of France! She has issued safe through
that inner Arch, into the Carrousel itself; but not into the Rue de
l'Echelle. Flurried by the rattle and rencounter, she took the right
hand not the left; neither she nor her Courier knows Paris; he indeed
is no Courier, but a loyal stupid ci-devant Bodyguard disguised as
one. They are off, quite wrong, over the Pont Royal and River; roaming
disconsolate in the Rue du Bac; far from the Glass-coachman, who still
waits. Waits, with flutter of heart; with thoughts--which he must button
close up, under his jarvie surtout!

Midnight clangs from all the City-steeples; one precious hour has been
spent so; most mortals are asleep. The Glass-coachman waits; and what
mood! A brother jarvie drives up, enters into conversation; is answered
cheerfully in jarvie dialect: the brothers of the whip exchange a pinch
of snuff; (Weber, ii. 340-2; Choiseul, p. 44-56.) decline drinking
together; and part with good night. Be the Heavens blest! here at length
is the Queen-lady, in gypsy-hat; safe after perils; who has had to
inquire her way. She too is admitted; her Courier jumps aloft, as
the other, who is also a disguised Bodyguard, has done: and now, O
Glass-coachman of a thousand,--Count Fersen, for the Reader sees it is
thou,--drive!

Dust shall not stick to the ho