e," was the reply. "Surely I will drink
with you, and wish a pleasant and speedy death to kings."

"But now, Marie," said the other, argumentatively, "as to my good duke
regent, that is otherwise. It goes about that he will change all things.
One is to amuse one's self now and then, and not to work forever for the
taxes and the conscription. Long live the regent, then, say I!"

"Yes, and let us hope that regents never turn to kings. There are to be
new days here in France. We people, aye, my faith! We people, so they
say, are to be considered. True, we shall have carriages one day, Marie,
like that of my Lord who passes."

John Law and his companions heard broken bits of such speech as this as
they passed on.

"Ah, they talk," replied he at last, turning toward his companions, "and
this is talk which means something. Within the year we shall see Paris
upside down. These people are ready for any new thing. But"--and his
face lost some of its gravity--"the streets are none too safe to-day, my
Lady. Therefore you must forgive me if I do not set you down, but keep
you prisoner until you reach your own gates. 'Tis not your fault that
your carriage broke down on the road from Marly; and as for my brother
Will and myself, we can not forego a good fortune which enables us at
last to destroy a certain long-standing debt of a carriage ride given
us, once upon a time, by the Lady Catharine Knollys."

"At least, then, we shall be well acquit on both sides," replied the
soft voice of the woman. "I may, perhaps, be an unwilling prisoner for
so short a time."

"Madam, I would God it might be forever!"

It was the same John Law of old who made this impetuous reply, and
indeed he seemed scarce changed by the passing of these few years of
time. It was the audacious youth of the English highway who now looked
at her with grave face, yet with eyes that shone.

Some years had indeed passed since Law, turning his back upon the appeal
of the wide New World, had again set foot upon the shores of England,
from which his departure had been so singular. Driven by the goads of
remorse, it had been his first thought to seek out the Lady Catharine
Knollys; and so intent had he been on this quest, that he learned almost
without emotion of the king's pardon which had been entered, discharging
him of further penalty of the law of England. Meeting Lady Catharine, he
learned, as have others since and before him, that a human soul may
have laws i