lock,
there is many a hackney-coach and {125} glass-coach still rumbling or
at rest on the streets of Paris. But of all glass-coaches we recommend
this to thee, O Reader, which stands drawn up in the Rue de l'Echelle,
hard by the Carrousel and outgate of the Tuileries; in the Rue de
l'Echelle that then was, "opposite Ronsin the saddler's door," as if
waiting for a fare there. Not long does it wait: a hooded Dame, with
two hooded Children has issued from Villequier's door, where no sentry
walks, into the Tuileries' Court-of-Princes; into the Carrousel; into
the Rue de l'Echelle; where the Glass-coachman readily admits them; and
again waits. Not long; another Dame, likewise hooded or shrouded,
leaning on a servant, issues in the same manner; bids the servant
good-night; and is, in the same manner, by the Glass-coachman,
cheerfully admitted. Whither go so many Dames? 'Tis his Majesty's
_Couchee_, Majesty just gone to bed, and all the Palace-world is
retiring home. But the Glass-coachman still waits; his fare seemingly
incomplete.

By-and-by, we note a thickset Individual, in round hat and peruke, arm
in arm with some servant, seemingly of the Runner or Courier sort; he
also issues through Villequier's door; starts a shoebuckle as he passes
one of the sentries, stoops down to clasp it again; is however, by the
Glass-coachman, still more cheerfully admitted. And _now_, is his fare
complete? Not yet; the Glass-coachman still waits.--Alas! and the
false Chambermaid has warned Gouvion that she thinks the Royal Family
will fly this very night; and Gouvion, distrusting his own glazed eyes,
has sent express for Lafayette; and Lafayette's Carriage, flaring with
lights, rolls this moment through the inner arch of the
Carrousel,--where a Lady shaded in {126} broad gypsy-hat, and leaning
on the arm of a servant, also of the Runner or Courier sort, stands
aside to let it pass, and has even the whim to touch a spoke of it with
her _badine_,--light little magic rod which she calls _badine_, such as
the Beautiful then wore. The flare of Lafayette's carriage rolls past:
all is found quiet in the Court-of-Princes; sentries at their post;
Majesties' Apartments closed in smooth rest. Your false Chambermaid
must have been mistaken? Watch thou, Gouvion, with Argus' vigilance;
for of a truth treachery is within these walls.

But where is the Lady that stood aside in gypsy-hat, and touched the
wheel-spoke with her _badine_? O Reader