lvert seem to be in a conspiracy to malign His Royal
Highness," she said, turning around.

"No, no. If there is a conspirator in the case 'tis Monsieur d'Orleans
himself," replied Mr. Morris, meaningly. To this Madame de St. Andre
deigned no reply, and, shrugging her beautiful shoulders, turned her
back once more to the gentlemen and her attention to the assemblage. Mr.
Calvert, who sat directly behind her, could only see the pink ear and
outline of the fair, displeased face thus turned away, but he thought
she looked more imperiously lovely and more distant than the painted
goddesses of the Olympian hierarchy who disported themselves, after the
artist's fancy, upon the great dome of the hall.

"Madame," he said, leaning over the back of Madame de Chastellux's
chair, "can you tell me who is that deputy of the tiers just making his
way in? 'Tis the strangest and most terrible face I have ever seen," and
he looked hard at the seamed, scarred visage, at the gloomy eyes,
shining darkly in their great sockets, at the immense, burly figure of
the man who was forcing his way contemptuously past the gallant Monsieur
de Breze to a seat among the commoners. As he looked, he was reminded in
some fashion of the man Danton whom he had seen in the Cafe de l'Ecole
the afternoon he had gone thither with Beaufort.

"It is Monsieur de Mirabeau," said Madame de Chastellux. "There is
something terrible in his face, as you say, but there is genius, also, I
think," she added.

"He has many talents and every vice, Madame," said Mr. Jefferson,
coldly. "A genius if you will, but a man without honor, without probity,
erratic, unscrupulous, mercenary, passionate. _Cupidus alieni prodigus
sui_. Great as are his parts, he will never be able to serve his
country, for no dependence can be placed in him. He cannot even further
his own interests, for he is his own worst enemy. No association with
such a character can be either profitable or permanent. Listen! he is
being hissed!" It was true. A faint but perfectly audible murmur of
disapprobation went up as Mirabeau took his place among the deputies. As
the sound struck on his ear, he turned upon the throng like a lion at
bay and glanced about him with eyes which literally seemed to shoot fire
and before which all sounds of hatred trembled back into silence.

With conversation, with speculations as to whether the great question of
voting par ordre or par tete would be settled by Monsieur Necker in