ver,
with a new and softer beauty. The horror of the times hath touched her,
too, I think, and rendered more serious that capricious nature. But who,
indeed, could live in Paris and not be chastened by the awful scenes
there enacting? I almost shudder to think of having to return so soon,
but I shall only stay to see His Grace of Leeds once more relative to
the treaty."

This interview, having been twice postponed, and pressing affairs
calling Mr. Morris to France, he finally left London in January with the
promise of returning in the spring. This promise he fulfilled, getting
back in May and bringing with him news of Mirabeau's death and splendid
burial and of the widespread fear of a counter-revolution by the
emigrant army under the Prince de Conde. He was warmly welcomed by
Calvert, who, in spite of the many kind offices and attentions of the
friends he had made, was beginning to weary of the English capital. In
truth, he was possessed by a restlessness that would have sent him home
had he not wished to respect Mr. Jefferson's advice and make a tour on
the continent before returning. He hoped to persuade Mr. Morris to
accompany him, and in this he was not disappointed. Accordingly, after a
month in London, they set out for Rotterdam and, travelling leisurely
through the Low Countries, made their way to Cologne. It was while
waiting there for a boat to take them up the Rhine--both Mr. Morris and
Calvert were anxious to make this water trip--that they heard the news,
already two weeks old, of the flight of their Majesties and of Monsieur
from France and of the recapture of the King and Queen at Varennes.
Monsieur had escaped safely to Brussels and had made his way to
Coblentz, where Mr. Morris and Calvert saw him later. He was installed
in a castle, placed at his service by the Elector of Treves, which
over-looked the great fortress of Ehrenbreitstein, and there he held his
little court and made merry with the officers of the Prince de Conde's
army and the throngs of emigres who came and went and did a vast deal of
talking and even laughing over their misfortunes, but who never seemed
to learn a lesson from them. Coblentz was full of these exiles from
France, who treated the townsfolk with a mixture of condescension and
rudeness which caused them to speedily become detested. There was one
little cafe in particular, Les Trois Colonnes, which they frequented,
and where they laughed and gambled and made witty speeches and