and streaming hair, were marching by to the
raucous chorus of the "Ca ira!"

He turned from the sight in disgust, and again faced his visitor.

"Citoyenne," he said, in a composed voice, "I am afraid that your
journey has been in vain."

She rose now from her knees, and advanced towards him.

"Monsieur, you will not be so cruel as to send me away empty-handed?"
she cried, scarce knowing what she was saying.

But he looked at her gravely, and without any sign of melting.

"On what," he asked, "do you base any claim upon me?"

"On what?" she echoed, and her glance was troubled with perplexity. Then
of a sudden it cleared. "On the love that you have confessed for me,"
she cried.

He laughed a short laugh-half amazement, half scorn.

"Mon Dieu!" he exclaimed, tossing his arms to Heaven, "a fine claim
that, as I live; a fine argument by which to induce me to place another
man in your arms. I am to do it because I love you!"

They gazed at each other now, she with a glance of strained anxiety,
he with the same look of half-contemptuous wonder. And then a creaking
rumble from below attracted his attention, and he looked round. He moved
forward and threw the window wide, letting in with the March air an odd
medley of sounds to which the rolling of drums afforded a most congruous
accompaniment.

"Look, Citoyenne," he said, and he pointed out the first tumbril, which
was coming round the corner of the Rue St. Honore.

She approached with some shrinking begotten by a suspicion of what she
was desired to see.

In the street below, among a vociferating crowd of all sorts and
conditions, the black death-cart moved on its way to the guillotine.
It was preceded by a company of National Guards, and followed by the
drummers and another company on foot. Within the fatal vehicle travelled
three men and two women, accompanied by a constitutional priest--one of
those renegades who had taken the oath imposed by the Convention. The
two women sat motionless, more like statues than living beings,
their faces livid and horribly expressionless, so numbed were their
intelligences by fear. Of the men, one stood calm and dignified, another
knelt at his prayers, and was subject, therefore, to the greater portion
of the gibes the mob was offering these poor victims; the third, a
very elegant gentleman in a green coat and buckskin breeches, leant
nonchalantly upon the rail of the tumbril and exchanged gibes with
the people. All five of t