the kind of a dog I want! I'll teach him to bark for Liberty, Equality and Fraternity!" The crowd laughed, patted Jean's head approvingly, and handing Moufflet over to his protection, hurried off to seek other prey. The dog whined his recognition of a former friend, and tried to hide under the boy's jacket.

But Jean could not carry the little thing around in his arms, and at the same time restore him to his master, that was plain. Where could he place him so that the little animal might remain in safety? He looked about him in despair. There was not a corner or the smallest cubby-hole where it would be secure. Suddenly he remembered that in one of the rooms now deserted, he had opened a door of what seemed to be a large closet. He hurried to the spot and found just the hiding-place he needed. Thrusting Moufflet into the darkness, he commanded:

"You be a good dog! Lie down and be quiet!" As if comprehending the situation completely, the dog crawled into a far corner, curled up and lay shivering and silent. Jean closed the door, turned the key, and ran back to the council-hall. Meanwhile, what had taken place in his absence?

For many minutes the Dauphin stood crowned with the heavy woollen cap, while the crowd hooted, laughed and jeered. The day was very hot, and the perspiration streamed down his face and dampened his curls. His mother pressed him closer to her, whispering him to be brave a little longer. As she did so, a young woman in front called out:

"How proud and haughty that Austrian is! How she hates us!" The girl was pretty, and her expression mild and gentle. The Queen wondered at the contrast between her appearance and her words. For the first time that day, she opened her lips and answered:

"I do not hate you, my friend! Why should I? But I am afraid that you hate me, though I have done you no wrong!" The young woman began to feel a little ashamed.

"No, no! I do not mean that you hate me," she replied, "but the nation. You love only Austria from whence you came!"

"You poor child!" answered the Queen. "They have told you that and you believe it, but it is not true! I came from Austria when I was a very young girl, to marry the King. But since then I have forgotten the land of my birth. I love only France! Why, see! am I not the mother of your future king?" and she pointed to the Dauphin. "I love all my French people, and I only wish them to be happy!" The girl was so touched by the Queen's gentle, reproachful manner, that the tears came into her eyes.

"Oh, pardon me, Madame! I did not know you!" she begged. "I see now that you are not as wicked as they said!" It was then that the humour of the mob changed. Women and men who had been the fiercest, wept at the grief in the Queen's words and looks. They pressed about the table, admiring the bravery of Marie Antoinette and the beauty of her children. Cries of "Down with the Queen!" gave place to words of praise and admiration for her courage. Even the big, brutal Santerre was touched.

"Take off that cap from the little fellow's head!" he ordered. "Don't you see how hot he is?" And then to the Queen he whispered: "Have no fear, Madame! I will send away the people in peace!"

It was then that Jean returned to the room, amazed at the changed aspect of affairs. Under Santerre's direction the throng began to file out past the royal family, contenting themselves with kindly looks and words, or rough ones, as their changeable tempers dictated. Jean was among the last to leave, and he had only time to whisper in a very low voice as he passed the prince,

"It's all right! The closet in the next room!" But by the grateful smile of his little Highness, Jean knew that the Dauphin had both heard and understood.

Outside, on the terrace of the Tuileries, other events of interest appeared to be happening, and Jean lingered to witness them. A man standing on an armchair at a window in the palace, was addressing the crowds below. It proved to be Pétion, the Mayor of Paris, and he was bidding the mob disperse peaceably now that the King had been interviewed. While Jean was looking up, he felt himself clapped on the shoulder, and a voice exclaimed:

"Well, if here is not my young friend the catapult!" and turning, he found himself face to face with the thin young man. "And what may you be doing here? Helping to mob the King?" Now Jean could scarcely have explained why, but something about this young man both invited and compelled his confidence, and he had the instinctive feeling that confidence in him would not be misplaced. So he boldly declared:

"No, Citizen Bonaparte, indeed I have been far from mobbing the King. I am not a royalist, and I wish to be a true patriot, but I feel that the people are not dealing rightly with the King, and that they will yet allow the rabble to do him an ill turn!"

"Well said!" agreed the young man, heartily. "My opinion to a dot! My friend, I am a Corsican by birth, and I have aided in the unsuccessful fight for Corsica's liberty, but now I believe I will adopt a new country and become a French patriot. The situation in this land appeals to me. My heart thrills when I see an oppressed people rising to throw off the yoke of the oppressor! And you are right when you say that, groping in the twilight of their first new liberties, the people are not dealing justly with their king. But, look you, my friend! Their king means well, only he is making the biggest mistake a monarch ever made! He is yet their monarch! He should show it! The people bow to force, to power, and to that alone. See him now!" and he pointed to a window where Louis XVI, still crowned with the red cap, was surveying the throng below.

"Never should he have allowed them to put on him that emblem!" continued Bonaparte vehemently. "Never should he have countenanced this invasion of his palace! It was madness! Had he turned a few cannon upon them, and blown a hundred or more of this rabble to pieces, the rest would have taken to their heels and fled with respect for him in their hearts! As it is now, they have none! Mark my words!—worse will come, and he will live to regret his forbearance!"

Jean marvelled at the fire that flashed from those grey eyes. Instinct told him that here was a man born to command, and he felt drawn to the stranger by a feeling of intense admiration.

"I came here to-day through curiosity," he continued, "but what did you in the palace, my young friend?" And Jean, in his new trust, told the whole story of his attachment to the little Dauphin, and the debt of gratitude the Clouets owed to the Queen. When he had finished his auditor remarked:

"You are a faithful soul, my little friend, and I admire your spirit of gratitude. I too am genuinely sorry for the royal family. But I fear you have set yourself a hard road to travel, between your patriotism and your friendship for royalty. Beware of the many pitfalls that beset you! I am staying at the Rue Cléry, number 548, over the tobacconist's. Come and see me sometimes. Fortune is not dealing with me so very lavishly just at present, and I should be grateful for your bright companionship while I am far from my family and friends!"

And Jean gladly promised to come.

ON TERRIBLE AUGUST TENTH

CHAPTER IV