t ten o'clock, Beaufort arrived hastily at
the Legation with the information that all was in readiness for the
private audience which Mr. Morris had requested, and the three
gentlemen, entering a coach, were driven rapidly to the Tuileries. They
were introduced at a wicket on the little rue du Manege, and, passing up
a stairway seldom used and through the Queen's apartments, at length
found themselves at the door of a small and private chamber of his
Majesty's suite. At this door Beaufort tapped gently, and hearing an
"Entrez!" from within, he pushed it open, and then, with a low bow,
retired, leaving Mr. Morris and Calvert to enter by themselves.

His Majesty was alone and seated beside a small table, on which were a
lamp and some writing materials. As Mr. Morris and Calvert advanced into
the room he rose and graciously extended a hand to each of the
gentlemen.

"Vous etes le bien venu," he says to Mr. Morris, and then, looking at
Calvert with a half-smile. "I remember you very well, now," he adds,
rapidly, in French to the younger man. While the King was speaking,
Calvert noticed with a glance the heavy, harassed expression of Louis's
face. The eyes, which had once been benign and rather stupid, had now a
haunted, suspicious look in them. While he was yet bowing, and before he
could form a reply to the King's remarks, the Queen entered rapidly from
an adjoining apartment. Calvert felt a shock, a thrill of pity, as he
looked at her Majesty. A dozen fateful years seemed to have rolled over
that countenance, so lovely when last he had seen it. Though she still
held herself proudly, the animation and beauty of face and figure had
vanished. The large blue eyes were tired and red with weeping, the
complexion had lost its brilliancy, and the fair hair was tinged with
gray. History hath made it out that the Queen's hair whitened in a
single night of her captivity, but it had already begun to lose its
golden color before the days of the Temple, and the lock which she
shortly after this sent to Calvert, in token of her appreciation of his
services, was thickly streaked with white.

She came forward and stood beside the King, inclining her head
graciously to Mr. Morris, who made their Majesties a profound obeisance.

"I am come to again present my friend, Mr. Calvert of Virginia, to your
Majesties," he says, indicating Calvert, who bowed again, and at whom
the Queen looked with a keen, suspicious glance that almost instantly