e face that Mr. Morris, who had
always admired her, was touched and astonished.

"'Tis the very best thing to be done, my dear young lady," he said. "We
must get the passport for d'Azay and force him to quit Paris. I think I
am not entirely without influence with some of these scoundrels in
authority just now. Danton, for instance. He is, without doubt, the
most powerful man in Paris for the moment. Suppose we apply to him and
his worthy assistant, Bertrand, and see what can be done. As Danton
himself said to me the other evening at the Cordelliers Club, 'in times
of revolution authority falls into the hands of rascals!' Bertrand was a
good valet, but he knows no more of statescraft than my coachman does.
However, what we want is not a statesman but a friend, and I think
Bertrand may prove to be that. My carriage is waiting below; shall we go
at once?"

"Oh, we cannot go too soon! I will not lose a moment." She ran out of
the room and returned almost instantly with her wraps, for the March day
was chill and gloomy. The two set out immediately, Mr. Morris giving
orders to his coachman to drive to the Palais de Justice, where he hoped
to find Danton, the deputy attorney-general of the commune of Paris, and
Bertrand, his assistant. As he expected, they were there and, on being
announced, he and Madame de St. Andre were almost instantly admitted to
their presence.

There could be no better proof of the unique and powerful position held
by the representative of the infant United States than the reception
accorded him by this dictator of Paris. Though Mr. Morris was known to
disapprove openly of the excesses to which the Assembly and the
revolution had already gone, yet this agitator, this leader of the most
violent district of Paris, welcomed him with marked deference and
consideration. And it was with the deepest regret that he professed
himself unable to undertake to obtain, at Mr. Morris's request, a
passport for Monsieur d'Azay, brother of Madame de St. Andre, to whom he
showed a coldness and brusqueness in marked contrast to his manner
toward Mr. Morris.

"The applications are so numerous, and the emigrant army is becoming so
large," and here he darted a keen, mocking look at Madame de St. Andre
out of his small, ardent eyes, "that even were I as influential as
Monsieur Morris is pleased to think me, I would scarcely dare to ask for
a passport for Monsieur d'Azay. Moreover," and he bent his great,
hideous head for