devotion.
The lady waiting to greet Gilbert was the Princess Elizabeth. Neither king nor queen, after his showing them he saw they were playing him false, had dared to send directly to him; they put Lady Elizabeth forward.
Her first words proved to the doctor that he was not mistaken in his surmise.
"Doctor Gilbert," said she, "I do not know whether others have forgotten the tokens of interest you showed my brother on our return from Versailles, and those you showed my sister on our return from Varennes, but I remember."
"Madame," returned Gilbert, bowing, "God, in His wisdom, hath decided that you should have all the merits, memory included – a scarce virtue in our days, and particularly so among royal personages."
"I hope you are not referring to my brother, who often speaks of you, and praises your experience."
"As a medical adviser," remarked Gilbert, smiling.
"Yes; but he thinks you can be a physician to the realm as well as to the ruler."
"Very kind of the king. For which case is he calling me in at present?"
"It is not the king who calls you, sir, but I," responded the lady, blushing; for her chaste heart knew not how to lie.
"You? Your health worries me the least; your pallor arises from fatigue and disquiet, not from bad health."
"You are right; I am not trembling for myself, but my brother, who makes me fret."
"So he does me, madame."
"Oh, our uneasiness does not probably spring from the same cause, as I am concerned about his health. I do not mean that he is unwell, but he is downcast and disheartened. Some ten days ago – I am counting the days now – he ceased speaking, except to me, and in his favorite pastime of backgammon he only utters the necessary terms of the game."
"It is eleven days since he went to the House to present his veto. Why was he not mute that day instead of the next?"
"Is it your opinion that he should have sanctioned that impious decree?" demanded the princess, quickly.
"My opinion is, that to put the king in front of the priests in the coming tide, the rising storm, is to have priests and king broken by the same wave."
"What would you do in my poor brother's place, doctor?"
"A party is growing, like those genii of the Arabian Nights, which becomes a hundred cubits high an hour after release from the imprisoning bottle."
"You allude to the Jacobins?"
Gilbert shook his head.
"No; I mean the Girondists, who wish for war, a national desire."
"But war with whom? With the emperor, our brother? The King of Spain, our nephew? Our enemies, Doctor Gilbert, are at home, and not outside of France, in proof of which – " She hesitated, but he besought her to speak.
"I really do not know that I can tell you, though it is the reason of my asking you here."
"You may speak freely to one who is devoted and ready to give his life to the king."
"Do you believe there is any counterbane?" she inquired.
"Universal?" queried Gilbert, smiling. "No, madame; each venomous substance has its antidote, though they are of little avail generally."
"What a pity!"
"There are two kinds of poisons, mineral and vegetable – of what sort would you speak?"
"Doctor, I am going to tell you a great secret. One of our cooks, who left the royal kitchen to set up a bakery of his own, has returned to our service, with the intention of murdering the king. This red-hot Jacobin has been heard crying that France would be relieved if the king were put out of the way."
"In general, men fit for such a crime do not go about bragging beforehand. But I suppose you take precautions?"
"Yes; it is settled that the king shall live on roast meat, with a trusty hand to supply the bread and wine. As the king is fond of pastry, Madame Campan orders what he likes, as though for herself. We are warned especially against powdered sugar."
"In which arsenic might be mixed unnoticed?"
"Exactly. It was the queen's habit to use it for her lemonade, but we have entirely given up the use of it. The king, the queen, and I take meals together, ringing for what we want. Madame Campan brings us what we like, secretly, and hides it under the table; we pretend to eat the usual things while the servants are in the room. This is how we live, sir; and yet the queen and I tremble every instant lest the king should turn pale and cry out he was in pain."
"Let me say at once, madame," returned the doctor, "that I do not believe in these threats of poisoning; but in any event, I am under his majesty's orders. What does the king desire? That I should have lodgings in the palace? I will stay here in such a way as to be at hand until the fears are over."
"Oh, my brother is not afraid!" the princess hastened to say.
"I did not mean that. Until your fears are over. I have some practice in poisonings and their remedies. I am ready to baffle them in whatever shape they are presented; but allow me to say, madame, that all fears for the king might be removed if he were willing."
"Oh, what must be done for that?" intervened a voice, not the Lady Elizabeth's, and which, by its emphatic and ringing tone, made Gilbert turn.
It was the queen, and he bowed.
"Has the queen doubted the sincerity of my offers?"
"Oh, sir, so many heads and hearts have turned in this tempestuous wind, that one knows not whom to trust."
"Which is why your majesty receives from the Feuillants Club a Premier shaped by the Baroness de Stael?"
"You know that?" cried the royal lady, starting.
"I know your majesty is pledged to take Count Louis de Narbonne."
"And, of course, you blame me?"
"No; it is a trial like others. When the king shall have tried all, he may finish by the one with whom he should have commenced."
"You know Madame de Stael? What do you think of her?"
"Physically, she is not altogether attractive."
The queen smiled; as a woman, she was not sorry to hear another woman decried who just then was widely talked about.
"But her talent, her parts, her merits?"
"She is good and generous, madame; none of her enemies would remain so after a quarter of an hour's conversation."
"I speak of her genius, sir; politics are not managed by the heart."
"Madame, the heart spoils nothing, not even in politics; but let us not use the word genius rashly. Madame de Stael has great and immense talent, but it does not rise to genius; she is as iron to the steel of her master, Rousseau. As a politician, she is given more heed than she deserves. Her drawing-room is the meeting-place of the English party. Coming of the middle class as she does, and that the money-worshiping middle
