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 452 MARIE ANTOINETTE'S TALISMAN.

influence with the people, your protection from her enemies - what will be your answer?"

"Perhaps, that it is too late."

The time will come, and then you must remember Du Barry, who wishes to aid in this ; who implores your permission to pay a vast debt of gratitude to the grandson of Louis the Fifteenth to the daughter of Marie Therese, who was so pure and good herself that she never went out of her way to taunt or insult those who were less fortunate. To the clemency and forbearance of Louis, and his most persecuted queen, I am indebted for every frane that makes up my wealth ; I ask nothing better than to employ it all in their service. When you are a friend of the monarchy, let me find the money which the cause will so much need. Thus you and I will unite in one holy cause, which shall redeem much evil that we may have done. You, with your eloquence, and. I, with money, which justly belongs to the crown, may, perhaps, be so fortunate as to save the monarchy of France. "

The woman spoke earnestly, sometimes with passionate warmth, that astonished the man she addressed. He knew that she was in earnest, that a grander element than could be found in his heart was speaking through her words. Perhaps he felt, through all its subtle indirection, that something like a bribe for his influence lay under all this real generosity ; but Mirabeau was not a man to revolt at an idea, so long as it took no offensive clearness. On the contrary, he reflected that his own power would be wonderfully enhanced by wealth, let. it come in what form it would.

"Have you spoken of this to the queen?" he inquired.

"How could I? She would reject it. No, there is but one way, and that I have pointed out. The time will come when this persecuted lady will seek the friendship of a man who con- monotony of her work, and, pausing with her trols the people of Paris, who knows how to thread half-drawn, listened eagerly. She had excite or depress the passions of her enemies heard a step on the stairs, though her mother When that day arrives, the money she would had not-a step that made the heart leap in her scorn now can be used in her behalf." innocent bosom, and a smile of loving expecta

"God grant that the rabble does not get beyond all control before she comes to her senses, " said the count, thoughtfully. "Ignorance and passion are hard things to manage ; but if Mirabeau cannot control them- where is the human power that can?"

Du Barry laid her hand on his arm.

" Some day your old friend may ask that protection for herself," she said.

"It shall not be asked in vain, " answered the count, holding the door for her to pass.

When Madame Du Barry reached her lodgings she found Zamara, who had just come in from Versailles. His clothes were muddy, his face heavy with disappointment.

"Madame, Zamara has failed; he could not get the ring; she never takes it from her finger,” he said. Madame only answered.

"The fates are against us, Zamara."

CHAPTER XXI.

MADAME GOSNER and Marguerite were alone in their room, which had become more gloomy than ever since their disappointment. All the spare time these two women could obtain from their sorrow was given to the toil which earned their daily bread; and this evening they were working diligently at some embroidery which was wanted in haste for a court-dress. The very nature of her employment, perhaps, exasperated the poverty of the elder woman, whose hatred of the monarchs of France amounted almost to monomania. She went on sewing with sharp energy, taking her stitches with jerks, as if she picked them out with the point of a dagger. Her breath came heavily as she worked, and her lips were pressed together but she had not spoken in an hour.

Marguerite was sewing also, but her thread came out with a more even pull, and the delicate surface of her work revealed no imperfect stitches. The dull, heavy gloom which lay upon her mother was not dark enough to kill all the girlhood in that young bosom; and more than once a faint smile flitted across her lips, as if the thoughts in her mind were not altogether melancholy. Remember, Marguerite had never seen her father, and the blow of his death was not so terrible to her as it had proved to the stricken woman.

At last the young girl looked up from the dull monotony of her work, and, pausing with her thread half-drawn, listened eagerly. She had heard a step on the stairs, though her mother had not—a step that made the heart leap in her innocent bosom, and a smile of loving expectation tremble on her lips. At an earlier day she would have spoken when she heard that step on the stairs ; but now she hid the knowledge away like a precious secret, which not even her mother might share.

Yes, it was surely Monsieur Jaque. Madame Gosner heard it now, and suspended her work. Was it possible that he was coming with news! Even in her despair this poor woman was always expecting news, and holding her breath as a footstep passed her door.

It opened now, and Monsieur Jaque came in,