road; is galloping for hours towards Verdun; King's watch, the Berline is at a dead stand: then, for hours, across hedged country, through Round-hat arguing with Churn-boots; tired roused hamlets, towards Varennes. Unlucky horses slobbering their meal-and-water; yellow Cornet Remy; unluckier Colonel Damas, with whom there ride desperate only some loyal Two! More ride not of that Clermont Escort: of other Escorts, in other Villages, not even Two may ride; but only all curvet and prance,-impeded by storm-bell and your Village illuminating itself. And Drouet rides and Clerk Guillaume; and the Country runs.-Goguelat and Duke Choiseul are plunging through morasses, over cliffs, over stock and stone, in the shaggy woods of the Clermontais; by tracks; or trackless, with guides; Hussars tumbling into pitfalls, and lying 'swooned three quarters of an hour,' the rest refusing to march without them. What an evening ride from Pont-de-Somme velle; what a thirty hours, since Choiseul quitted Paris, with Queen's-valet Leonard in the chase by him! Black Care sits behind the rider. Thus go they plunging; rustle the owlet from his branchy nest; champ the sweet-scented forest-herb, queen-of-themeadows spilling her spikenard; and frighten the ear of Night. But hark! towards twelve o'clock, as one guesses, for the very stars are gone out sound of the tocsin from Varennes? Checking bridle, the Hussar Officer listens: "Some fire undoubtedly!"--yet rides on, with double breathlessness, to verify. Yes, gallant friends that do your utmost, it is a certain sort of fire: difficult to quench. The Korff Berline, fairly ahead of all this riding Avalanche, reached the little paltry Village of Varennes about eleven o'clock; hope, in spite of that hoarse-whispering Unknown. Do not all Towns now lie behind us; Verdun avoided, on our right? Within wind of Bouillé himself, in a manner; and the darkest of midsummer nights favouring us! And so we halt on the hill-top at the South end of the Village; expecting our relay; which young Bouillé, Bouille's own son, with his Escort of Hussars, was to have ready; for in this Village is no Post. Distracting to think of: neither horse nor Hussar is here! Ah, and stout horses, a proper relay belonging to Duke Choiseul, do stand at hay, but in the Upper Village over the Bridge; and we know not of them. Hussars likewise do wait, but drinking in the taverns. For indeed it is six hours beyond the time; young Bouillé, silly stripling, thinking the matter over for this night, has retired to bed. And so cur yellow Couriers, inexperienced, must rove, groping, bungling, through a Village mostly asleep: Postilions will not, for any money, go on with the tired horses; not at least without refreshment; not they, let the Valet in round hat argue as he likes. Miserable! "for five-and-thirty minutes" by the Couriers groping, bungling ; — young Bouillé asleep, all the while, in the Upper Village, and Choiseul's fine team standing there at hay. Νο help for it; not with a King's ransom; the horses deliberately slobber, Round-hat argues, Bouillé sleeps. And mark now, in the thick night, do not two Horsemen, with jaded trot, come clank-clanking; and start with half-pause, if one noticed them, at sight of this dim mass of a Berline, and its dull slobbering and arguing; then prick off faster, into the Village? It is Drouet, he and Clerk Guillaume! Still ahead, they two, of the whole, riding hurlyburly; unshot, though some brag of having chased them. Perilous is Drouet's errand also; but he is an Old-Dragoon, with his wits shaken thoroughly awake. The Village of Varennes lies dark and slumberous; a most unlevel Village, of inverse saddleshape, as men write. It sleeps; the rushing of the River Aire singing lullaby to it. Nevertheless from the Golden Arm, Bras d'Or Tavern, across that sloping Marketplace, there still comes shine of social light; comes voice of rude drovers, or the like, who have not yet taken the stirrup-cup; Boniface Le Blanc, in white apron, serving them : cheerful to behold. To this Bras d'Or Drouet enters, alacrity looking through his eyes; he nudges Boniface, in all privacy, "Camarade, es-tu bon Patriote, Art thou a good Patriot?”—“Si je suis!" answers Boniface." In that case,” eagerly whispers Drouet-what whisper is needful, heard of Boniface alone. And now see Boniface Le Blanc bustling, as he never did for the jolliest toper. See Drouet and Guillaume, dexterous Old-Dragoons, instantly down blocking the Bridge, with a 'furniturewagon they find there,' with whatever wagons, tumbrils, barrels, barrows their hands can lay hold of ;-till no carriage can pass. Then swiftly, the Bridge once blocked, see them take station hard by, under Varennes Archway: joined by Le Blanc, Le Blanc's brother, and one or two alert Patriots he has roused. Some half-dozen in all, with National muskets, they stand close, waiting under the Archway, till that same Korff Berline rumble up. It rumbles up: Alte là ! lanterns flash out from under coat-skirts, bridles chuck in strong fists, two National muskets level themselves fore and aft through the two Coach-doors: "Mesdames, your Passports?"-Alas, alas! sieur Sausse, Procureur of the Township, Tallow-chandler also and Grocer, is there, with official grocer-politeness; Drouet with fierce logic and ready wit:-The respected Travelling Party, be it Baroness de Korff's, or persons of still higher consequence, will perhaps please to rest itself in M. Sausse's till the and answer it to Heaven and Earth. dawn strike up ! O Louis; O hapless Marie-Antoinette, fated to pass thy life with such men! Phlegmatic Louis, art thou but lazy semi-animate phlegm, then, to the centre of thee? King, Captain-General, Sovereign Frank! if thy heart ever formed, since it began beating under the name of heart, any To me, Bodyguards; Postilions, en avant!"-One fancies in that case the pale paralysis of these two Le Blanc musketeers; the drooping of Drouet's underjaw; and how Procureur Sausse had melted like tallow in furnace-heat: Louis faring on; in some few steps awakening young Bouillé, awakening relays and Hussars : triumphant entry, with resolution at all, be it now then, or never in this world :-"Violent nocturnal individuals, and if it were persons of high consequence? And if it were the King himself? Has the King not the power, which all beggars have, of travelling unmolested on his own Highway? Yes it is the King; and tremble ye to know it! The King has said, in this one small matter; and in France, or under God's Throne, is no power that shall gainsay. Not the King shall ye stop here under this your rable Archway; but his dead body only, cavalcading high-brandishing Escort, and Escorts, into Montmédi; and the whole course of French History different! Alas, it was not in the poor phlegmatic man. Had it been in him, French History had never come under this Varennes Archway to decide itself.-He steps out; all step out. Procureur Sausse gives his grocer-arms to the Queen and Sister Elizabeth; Majesty taking the two children by the hand. And thus they walk, coolly back, over the Marketplace to Procureur Sausse's; mount into his small upper story; where straightway his Majesty 'demands refreshments.' Demands refreshments, as is written; gets breadaud-cheese with a bottle of Burgundy; and remarks, that it is the best Burgundy he ever drank! : Meanwhile the Varennes Notables, and all men, official and non-official, are hastily drawing-on their breeches; getting their fighting gear. Mortals half-dressed tumble out barrels, lay felled trees; scouts dart off to all the four winds,—the tocsin begins clanging, 'the Village illuminates itself.' Very singular: how these little Villages do manage, so adroit are they, when startled in midnight alarm of war. Like little adroit municipal rattle-snakes suddenly awakened for their storm-bell rattles and rings; their eyes glisten luminous (with tallow-light), as in rattlesnake ire; and the Village will sting. OldDragoon Drouet is our engineer and generalissimo; valiant as a Ruy Diaz :-Now or never, ye Patriots, for the soldiery is coming; massacre by Austrians, by Aristocrats, wars more than civil, it all depends on you and the hour!-National Guards rank themselves, half-buttoned: mortals, we say, still only in breeches, in under-petticoat, tumble out barrels and lumber, lay felled trees for barricades the Village will sting. Rabid Democracy, it would seem, is not confined to Paris, then? Ah no, whatsoever Courtiers might talk; too clearly no. This of dying for one's King is grown into a dying for one's self, against the King, if need be. combed Field-pieces, empty of all but cobwebs ; the rattle whereof, as the Cannoneers with assured countenance trundled them up, did nevertheless abate the Hussar ardour, and produce a respectfuler ranking farther back. Jugs of wine, handed over the ranks,-for the German throat too has sensibility,-will complete the business. When Engineer Goguelat, some hour or so afterwards, steps forth, the response to him is a hiccuping Vive la Nation! What boots it? Goguelat, Choiseul, now also Count Damas, and all the Varennes Officiality are with the King; and the King can give no order, form no opinion; but sits there, as he has ever done, like clay on potter's wheel; perhaps the absurdest of all pitiable and pardonable clayfigures that now circle under the Moon. He will go on, next morning, and take the National Guard with him; Sausse permitting! Hapless Queen: with her two children laid there on the mean bed, old Mother Sausse kneeling to Heaven, with tears and an audible prayer, to bless them; imperial Marie-Antoinette near kneeling to Son Sausse and Wife Sausse, amid candle-boxes and treaclebarrels,-in vain! There are Three thousand National Guards got in; before long they will count Ten thousand: tocsins spreading like fire on dry heath, or far faster. Young Bouillé, roused by this Varennes tocsin, has taken horse, and-fled towards his Father. Thitherward also rides, in an almost hysterically desperate manner, a certain Sieur Aubriot, Choiseul's Orderly; swimming dark rivers, our And so our riding and running Avalanche and Bridge being blocked; spurring as if the HellHurlyburly has reached the Abyss, Korff Berline hunt were at his heels. Through the village of foremost; and may pour itself thither, and Dun, he galloping still on, scatters the alarm; at jumble endless! For the next six hours, need Dun, brave Captain Deslons and his Escort of a we ask if there was a clattering far and wide? Hundred saddle and ride. Deslons too gets into Clattering and tocsining and hot tumult, over all Varennes; leaving his Hundred outside at the the Clermontais, spreading through the Three-tree-barricade; offers to cut King Louis out, if he Bishopricks Dragoon and Hussar Troops gallop- will order it but unfortunately "the work will ing on roads and no-roads; National Guards prove hot:" whereupon King Louis has "no arming and starting in the dead of night; tocsin orders to give." after tocsin transmitting the alarm. In some forty minutes, Goguelat and Choiseul, with their wearied Hussars, reach Varennes. Ah, it is no fire, then; or a fire difficult to quench! They leap the tree-barricades, in spite of National sergeant; they enter the village, Choiseul instructing his Troopers how the matter really is; who respond interjectionally, in their guttural dialect, "Der König; die Königinn!" and seem staunch. These now, in their staunch humour, will, for one thing, beset Procureur Sausse's house. Most beneficial: had not Drouet stormfully ordered otherwise; and even bellowed, in his extremity, "Cannoneers, to your guns!"-two old honey-deserving to be named of Spurs. And so the tocsin clangs, and Dragoons gallop, and can do nothing, having galloped National Guards stream in like the gathering of ravens: your exploding Thunder-chain, falling Avalanche, or what else we liken it to, does play, with a vengeance,-up now as far as Stenai and Bouillé himself. Brave Bouillé, son of the whirlwind, he saddles Royal - Allemand; speaks fire-words, kindling heart and eyes; distributes twenty-five gold-louis a company :-Ride, Royal-Allemand, long-famed: no Tuileries Charge and NeckerOrléans Bust-Procession; a very King made captive, and world all to win!-Such is the Night SEE, THE CONQUERING HERO COMES. OHN EAMES had reached his office precisely at twelve o'clock, but when he did so he hardly knew whether he was standing on his heels or his head. The whole morning had been to him one of intense excitement, and latterly, to a certain extent, one of triumph. But he did not at all know what might be the results. Would he be taken before a magistrate and locked up? Would there be a row at the office? Would Crosbie call him out, and, if so, would it be incumbent on him to fight a duel with pistols? What would Lord de Guest say— Lord de Guest, who had specially warned him not to take upon himself the duty of avenging Lily's wrongs? What would all the Dale family say of his conduct? And, above all, what would Lily say and think? Nevertheless, the feeling of triumph was predominant; and now, at this interval of time, he was beginning to remember with pleasure the sensation of his fist as it went into Crosbie's eye. During his first day at the office he heard nothing about the affair, nor did he say a word of it to any one. It was known in his room that he had gone down to spend his Christmas holiday with Lord de Guest, and he was treated with some increased consideration accordingly. And, moreover, I must explain, in order that I may give Johnny Eames his due, he was gradually acquiring for himself a good footing among the incometax officials; but as he walked home to Burton Crescent with Cradell, he did tell him of the affair with Crosbie. 66 What could I do, you know? I made her have a fire for me, of course. "And then you went to bed." "I waited ever so long, because I thought that Maria would want to see me. At last she sent me a note. Maria is so imprudent, you know. If he had found anything in her writing, it would have been terrible, you know-quite terrible. And who can say whether Jemima mayn't tell.” "And what did she say?" Come; that's tellings, Master Johnny. I took very good care to take it with me to the office this morning, for fear of accidents." But Eames was not so widely awake to the importance of his friend's adventures as he might have been had he not been weighted with adventures of his own. "I shouldn't care so much," said he, "about that fellow, Crosbie, going to a friend, as I should about his going to a police magistrate.” It's a "He'll put it in a friend's hands, of course," said Cradell, with the air of a man who from experience was well up in such matters. "And I suppose you'll naturally come to me. deuced bore to a man in a public office, and all that kind of thing, of course. But I'm not the man to desert my friend. I'll stand by you, Johnny, my boy." "Oh, thank you," said Eames; "I don't think that I shall want that." "You must be ready with a friend you know." "I should write down to a man I know in the country, and ask his advice," said Eames; "an And you went in at him on the station?" older sort of friend, you know." asked Cradell, with admiring doubt. "Yes, I did. If I didn't do it there, where was I to do it! I said I would, and, therefore, when I saw him I did it." Then the whole affair was told as to the black eye, the police, and the superintendent. "And what's to come next?" asked our hero. "Well, he'll put it in the hands of a friend, of course; as I did with Fisher in that affair with Lupex. And, upon my word, Johnny, I shall have to do something of the kind again. His conduct last night was outrageous; would you believe it--" "Oh, he's a fool." "He's a fool you wouldn't like to meet when he's in one of his mad fits, I can tell you that. I absolutely had to sit up in my own bedroom all last night. Mother Roper told me that if I remained in the drawing-room she would feel herself obliged to have a policeman in the house. "By Jove, old fellow, take care what you're about. Don't let them say of you that you show the white feather. Upon my honour, I'd sooner have anything said of me than that. I would, indeed— anything." "I'm not afraid of that," said Eames, with a touch of scorn in his voice. "There isn't much thought about white feathers now-a-days-not in the way of fighting duels.” After that, Cradell managed to carry back the conversation to Mrs. Lupex and his own peculiar position, and as Eames did not care to ask from his companion further advice in his own matters, he listened nearly in silence till they reached Burton Crescent. "I hope you found the noble earl well," said Mrs. Roper to him, as soon as they were all seated at dinner. "I found the noble earl pretty well, thank you," said Johnny. It had become plainly understood by all the Roperites that Eames' position was quite altered since he had been honoured with the friendship of Lord de Guest. Mrs. Lupex, next to whom he always sat at dinner, with a view to protecting her as it were from the dangerous neighbourhood of Cradell, treated him with a marked courtesy. Miss Spruce always called him "sir." Mrs. Roper helped him the first of the gentlemen, and was mindful about his fat and gravy, and Amelia felt, less able than she was before to insist upon the possession of his heart and affections. "It is such a privilege to be on visiting terms with the nobility," said Mrs. Lupex. "When I was a girl, I used to be very intimate "You ain't a girl any longer, and so you'd better not talk about it," said Lupex. Mr. Lupex had been at that little shop in Drury Lane after he came down from his scene-painting. "My dear, you needn't be a brute to me before all Mrs. Roper's company. If, led away by feelings which I will not now describe, I left my proper circles in marrying you, you need not before all the world teach me how much I have to regret." And Mrs. Lupex, putting down her knife and fork, applied her handkerchief to her eyes. "That's pleasant for a man over his meals, isn't it?" said Lupex, appealing to Miss Spruce. "I have plenty of that kind of thing, and you can't think how I like it." "Them whom God has joined together, let no man put asunder," said Miss Spruce. As for me myself, I'm only an old woman." This little ebullition threw a gloom over the dinner-table, and nothing more was said on the occasion as to the glories of Eames' career. But, in the course of the evening, Amelia heard of the encounter which had taken place at the railway station, and at once perceived that she might use the occasion for her own purposes. "My presence, Tupper! what for?" said Johnny, turning upon the messenger almost with dismay. "Indeed, I can't say, Mr. Eames; but Sir Raffle Buffle has desired your presence in the Boardroom.” Such a message as that in official life always strikes awe into the heart of a young man. And yet young men generally come forth from such interviews without having received any serious damage, and generally talk about the old gentleman whom they have encountered with a good deal of light-spirited sarcasm-or chaff, as it is called in the slang phraseology of the day. It is that same "majesty which doth hedge a king" that does it. The turkey-cock in his own farmyard is master of the occasion, and the thought of him creates fear. A bishop in his lawn, a judge on the bench, a chairman in a big room at the end of a long table, or a policeman, with his bull'seye lamp, upon his beat, can all make themselves terrible by means of those appanages of majesty which have been vouchsafed to them. But how mean is the policeman in his own home, and how few thought much of Sir Raffle Buffle as he sat asleep after dinner in his old slippers! "There's Johnny been sent for by old Scuffles," said one clerk. "That's about his row with Crosbie," said another. "The Board can't do anything to him. for that." "Can't it?" said the first. "Didn't young Outonites have to resign because of that row at the Cider Cellars, though his cousin, Sir Constant Outonites, did all that he could for him?" "But he was regularly up the spout with accommodation bills." "I tell you that I wouldn't be in Eames' shoes for a trifle. Crosbie is secretary at the Committee Office, where Scuffles was chairman before he came here; and of course they're as thick as thieves. I shouldn't wonder if they didn't make "John," she whispered to her victim, finding an opportunity for coming upon him when almost alone, "what is this I hear? I insist upon know-him go down and apologise." ing. Are you going to fight a duel!" "Nonsense," said Johnny. "But it is not nonsense. You don't know what my feelings will be, if I think that such a thing is going to happen. But then you are so hardhearted!" "I ain't hard-hearted a bit, and I'm not going to fight a duel." "Johnny won't do that," said the other. In the meantime John Eames was standing in the august presence. Sir Raffle Buffle was throned in his great oak arm-chair at the head of a long table in a very large room; and by him, at the corner of the table, was seated one of the assistant secretaries of the office. Another member of the Board was also at work upon the "But is it true that you beat Mr. Crosbie at the long table; but he was reading and signing papers station?" "It is true. I did beat him." On the following morning he received a message at about one o'clock, by the mouth of the Boardroom messenger, informing him that his presence was required in the Board-room. "Sir Raffle Buffle has desired your presence, Mr. Eames." at some distance from Sir Raffle, and paid no heed whatever to the scene. The assistant secretary, looking on, could see that Sir Raffle was annoyed by this want of attention on the part of his colleague, but all this was lost upon Eames. "Mr. Eames?" said Sir Raffle, speaking with a peculiarly harsh voice, and looking at the culprit |