think of one
tranquil and beloved spot across the sea, on which he had seen this
self-same moon shining with as serene a radiance many, many times. The
sounds of laughter and animated talk, the click of silver swords, the
strains of music from the musicians in the gallery above the OEil de
Beef came faintly to him. Suddenly he was aware that the curtains had
been lifted, and turning around, he saw Madame de St. Andre standing in
the light, one hand pulling back the velvet hangings, and, behind her,
Monsieur de Beaufort and St. Aulaire.

"I am come to congratulate you, Monsieur," she said, smiling, and coming
into the embrasure of the window, followed by the two gentlemen--it was
so deep that the four could stand at ease in it, even when the curtains
had been dropped. "I am come to congratulate you! Your courtesy to the
King was perfection itself. I was over against the OEil de Beef and
could see very well what passed. I am sure had His Majesty been General
Washington himself you could not have excelled it. You must know,
gentlemen," she said, laughing maliciously and turning to St. Aulaire
and Beaufort, "you must know that when I expressed my great desire to
see how an American would salute a king, Monsieur told me that I need
have no fear, as he had paid his respects to General Washington!"

"Monsieur does not mean to compare General Washington with His Majesty
Louis XVI, does he?" drawled St. Aulaire, insolently.

"No, Monsieur--no," says Calvert, turning to the nobleman, who was
leaning negligently against the ledge of the window. "There can be no
comparison. Who, indeed, can be compared with him?" he breaks out
suddenly. "There is none like him. None so wise or courageous or truly
royal. How can the kings of this world, born in the purple, who, through
no act, nor powers, nor fitness of their own, reign over their people;
how can they be compared to one who, by the greatness of his talents,
the soundness of his judgment, the firmness of his will, the tenderness
of his heart, the overtopping majesty of his whole nature, hath raised
himself so gloriously above his fellows? To one, the kingly estate is
but a gift blindly bestowed; to the other, 'tis the divine right of
excelling merit. The one is ruler by sufferance; the other, by
acclamation. And do you think, Madame," he goes on, turning to Adrienne,
"that that ruler who has been elevated to his greatness by the choice of
a people would betray that confidence, aban