ones, for instance – wore traveling dresses; but all the rest were clothed in warlike panoply. Many wore the gorges and buff coat of the times of Henry IV. and Louis XIII.
When the king passed before him, the unknown, who had leant forward over the balcony to obtain a better view, and who had concealed his face by leaning on his arm, felt his heart swell and overflow with a bitter jealousy.
The noise of the trumpets excited him – the popular acclamations deafened him: for a moment he allowed his reason to be absorbed in this flood of lights, tumult and brilliant images.
"He is a king!" murmured he, in an accent of despair.
Then, before he had recovered from his sombre reverie all the noise, all the splendor, had passed away. At the angle of the street there remained nothing beneath the stranger but a few hoarse, discordant voices, shouting at intervals, "Vive le Roi!"
There remained likewise the six candles held by the inhabitants of the hostelry des Medici; that is to say, two for Cropole, two for Pittrino, and one for each scullion. Cropole never ceased repeating, "How good-looking the king is! How strongly he resembles his illustrious father!"
"A handsome likeness!" said Pittrino.
"And what a lofty carriage he has!" added Madame Cropole, already in promiscuous commentary with her neighbors of both sexes.
Cropole was feeding their gossip with his own personal remarks, without observing that an old man on foot, but leading a small Irish horse by the bridle, was endeavoring to penetrate the crowd of men and women which blocked up the entrance to the Medici. But at that moment the voice of the stranger was heard from the window.
"Make way, monsieur l'hotelier, to the entrance of your house!"
Cropole turned around, and, on seeing the old man, cleared a passage for him.
The window was instantly closed.
Pittrino pointed out the way to the newly-arrived guest, who entered without uttering a word.
The stranger waited for him on the landing; he opened his arms to the old man and led him to a seat.
"Oh, no, no, my lord!" said he. "Sit down in your presence? – never!"
"Parry," cried the gentleman, "I beg you will; you come from England – you come so far. Ah! it is not for your age to undergo the fatigues my service requires. Rest yourself."
"I have my reply to give your lordship, in the first place."
"Parry, I conjure you to tell me nothing; for if your news had been good, you would not have begun in such a manner; you go about, which proves that the news is bad."
"My lord," said the old man, "do not hasten to alarm yourself, all is not lost, I hope. You must employ energy, but more particularly resignation."
"Parry," said the young man, "I have reached this place through a thousand snares and after a thousand difficulties; can you doubt my energy? I have meditated this journey ten years, in spite of all counsels and all obstacles – have you faith in my perseverance? I have this evening sold the last of my father's diamonds; for I had nothing wherewith to pay for my lodging and my host was about to turn me out."
Parry made a gesture of indignation, to which the young man replied by a pressure of the hand and a smile.
"I have still two hundred and seventy-four pistoles left, and I feel myself rich. I do not despair, Parry; have you faith in my resignation?"
The old man raised his trembling hands towards heaven.
"Let me know," said the stranger, – "disguise nothing from me – what has happened?"
"My recital will be short, my lord, but in the name of Heaven do not tremble so."
"It is impatience, Parry. Come, what did the general say to you?"
"At first the general would not receive me."
"He took you for a spy?"
"Yes, my lord, but I wrote him a letter."
"Well?"
"He read it, and received me, my lord."
"Did that letter thoroughly explain my position and my views?"
"Oh, yes!" said Parry, with a sad smile; "it painted your very thoughts faithfully."
"Well – then, Parry?"
"Then the general sent me back the letter by an aide-de-camp, informing me that if I were found the next day within the circumscription of his command, he would have me arrested."
"Arrested!" murmured the young man. "What! arrest you, my most faithful servant?"
"Yes, my lord."
"And notwithstanding you had signed the name Parry?"
"To all my letters, my lord; and the aide-de-camp had known me at St. James's and at Whitehall, too," added the old man with a sigh.
The young man leaned forward, thoughtful and sad.
"Ay, that's what he did before his people," said he, endeavoring to cheat himself with hopes. "But, privately – between you and him – what did he do? Answer!"
"Alas! my lord, he sent to me four cavaliers, who gave me the horse with which you just now saw me come back. These cavaliers conducted me, in great haste, to the little port of Tenby, threw me, rather than embarked me, into a fishing-boat, about to sail for Brittany, and here I am."
"Oh!" sighed the young man, clasping his neck convulsively with his hand, and with a sob. "Parry, is that all? – is that all?"
"Yes, my lord; that is all."
After this brief reply ensued a long interval of silence, broken only by the convulsive beating of the heel of the young man on the floor.
The old man endeavored to change the conversation; it was leading to thoughts much too sinister.
"My lord," said he, "what is the meaning of all the noise which preceded me? What are these people crying 'Vive le Roi!' for? What king do they mean? and what are all these lights for?"
"Ah! Parry," replied the young man ironically, "don't you know that this is the King of France visiting his good city of Blois? All those trumpets are his, all those gilded housings are his, all those gentlemen wear swords that are his. His mother precedes him in a carriage magnificently encrusted with silver and gold. Happy mother! His minister heaps up millions, and conducts him to a rich bride. Then all these people rejoice, they love their king, they hail him with their acclamations, and they cry, 'Vive le Roi! Vive le Roi!'"
"Well, well, my lord," said Parry, more uneasy at the turn the conversation had taken than at the other.
"You know," resumed the unknown, "that my mother and my sister, whilst all this is going on in honor of the King of France, have neither money nor bread; you know that I myself shall be poor and degraded within a fortnight, when all Europe will become acquainted with what you have told me. Parry, are there not examples in which a man of my condition should himself – "
"My lord, in the name of Heaven – "
"You are right,
