more common, than policemen in London. But on that night the military were the more remarkable, because they stole quietly upon the scene, with an evident desire to escape notice, and once there, remained there. Thus there were suddenly to be seen sentries at the corners of the streets, with bayonets fixed; two or three horsemen at the entrance of every street that gave upon the Boulevards, and certain silent, rambling patrols every here and there. Bourgeois A. asked bourgeois B. in an under tone what this appearance meant; and bourgeois B. replied that he could not tell, in a yet more subdued tone, and with yet more mystery in his look.

'Where is the Emperor to-night?' asked one.

'Dieu sait,' was the answer; 'unless he is at the opera.'

'Ah, of course he is; but then-' Now, as mouchards have long ears, and as they throng the streets of Paris, it was not prudent to utter more than the doubt expressed in that 'but then; and so people went home to bed, expecting next morning to hear of an émeute, and not a few dreading to catch the sound of cannon in the hours of sleep.

But those who had no inducement to go home, became suspicious, and gathered round the doors of the operahouse. Two magnificent carriages, bearing on the panels a shield on which the imperial eagle was blazoned, were there drawn up. On these two carriages the looks of a motley crowd were fixed. But what looks! The looks of a people unworthy of liberty, because they can be so easily cheated out of it--a people who, respecting little in this world, have so great a respect for power, that they worship it. They were looks of stupid admiration, of servile appreciation, of childish fascination. The sturdy Englishman poohs and scoffs at a show of finery, though he will go miles to see it; but the Frenchman enjoys it thoroughly. There are three ways by which a French mob may be tamed, and only three-a bon-mot, a dazzling show, and the mouth of the cannon. The present emperor has had recourse to the latter two already. He is not celebrated for smart sayings, but a

day may come yet, when his life at least, if not his throne, will depend on his ready wit.

Among the crowd that stared at the prancing English horses, the rich liveries of the servants, and the vulgarly profuse adornings of the carriages, and waited for the great man who so coolly appropriated these and his other splendours from out their own pockets, were two men who seemed far too much interested in their own business to care for any of these things.

'How do you feel now?' said one of them to his companion, a little man, whose face was very pale.

'I am so fearful lest anything should go wrong.'

'How can it? All is pre-arranged.' 'Yes, but if one of these gendarmes should cut me down?'

'Pooh, pooh, they have their cue.' 'What, even they? I cannot believe it.'

'But I tell you they have,' answered the other impatiently. 'I tell you, you are safe, perfectly safe. Come, man, don't be an ass.'

And the populace-' "What? the people! You are mad. Do you think a single man here cares one jot about him?'

'Take care, there is Henriot watching us.'

Legrand, for it was he, looked round and saw the black, savage frown of Henriot bent upon them.

'Well then, let us move nearer to the carriage. But stay-is the pistol all right? You know what you are to do. The moment you have fired, you must fall back, and move off quickly. Do not run, and when you are taken, do not utter a word. I will be there to protect you in case of need.'

'Good; I know. I wonder if there are any others of them here besides Henriot?'

'No. They are all in different parts of the city, preparing the workmen.'

Ah well! I hope it will all go right.'

The speaker, who, of course, was our little traitor, Louis Girardon, shuffled up nearer to the carriage, and squeezed himself into a position in the first rank of the spectators, just be

tween the principal carriage, and the steps of the Emperor's entrance to the opera, and close to the only gendarme on that side, who was there to keep back the crowd. Legrand followed him closely, pushing him on from time to time. Girardon thrust his hand into the bosom of his coat, and nervously grasped his pistol.

Ah, my poor wife,' he muttered to himself. It was his redeeming point. None of us are all bad.

Just then, a movement in the crowd showed that the Emperor was expected. Eager necks were stretched for eager eyes to look upon the face of this man, who had first tricked, and then enslaved their owners. A tall splendid footman moved down from the doorway to the carriage-door, where another was already standing. 'Here he comes,' hissed the crowd, as if fearful to speak aloud in the presence of so much greatness.

Vive l'Empereur,' cried a single paid voice in the throng, and the gendarmes alone repeated the cry.

At the same moment the peg-top figure, whom we have seen in the Tuileries, passed down the steps, followed by a General in full uniform, and two gentlemen in plain evening dress. He advanced with a firm but easy step, and in his little eyes played a look, which no other word describes so well as 'leery.' Just as he was casting a glance round upon the crowd just as the same voice repeated in a louder tone its ten-sous' worth, of 'Vive l'Empereur;'-just as the peg-top figure bowed to that side from which the cry came, and was moving on to the carriage-steps, Legrand nudged Girardon's elbow from behind. The same instant the pistol glittered a second in the light of the gas lamps, and a loud report and curl of smoke petrified the crowd. The women shrieked, the men rushed forward, the gendarmes leapt eagerly towards Girardon, and one of the gentlemen who accompanied the Emperor darted upon him, and seized him by the throat.

'My friends,' said the peg-top, turning at the carriage-door, and speaking with perfect calmness, be re-assured, I am unhurt,'

How kind how condescending of this little avatar!

But the apparent courage of the man delighted the mob, which raised a loud huzza, and then crushing pellmell towards the carriages, did its best to swell the confusion.

The horses pranced and reared, the coachman cracked his whip over the heads of the crowd, and shouted, 'Place, place,' and in the midst of it all a troop of dragoons rode recklessly into the crowd, and laid their flat sabres over the heads and shoulders of all who came in the way.

'The Emperor is killed,' shouted those on the outside, and rushed off with the news.

'He is not hurt,' muttered one.

'Worse luck,' said another, and before the words were out of his mouth he was arrested. Then came the true confusion, and the petty war between soldiery anxious to disperse a mob, and a mob which will not be dispersed, because the soldiery want it to do so.

And in the midst of all this, Henriot, who, when he saw the result, had turned pale, and muttered a deep curse, ran off in the direction of the Faubourg St. Antoine. Legrand, with a cheerful smile, bounded away towards the Tuileries; and Girardon, the cause of it all, had disappeared. Where he had got to was the great mystery which puzzled all the crowd. Some had seen him fire, others had seen him seized; but in the hurry and confusion that followed, very few had seen him thrust into the second carriage, followed by his captor, and a gendarme with fixed bayonet, and so bowled off to the Tuileries to be treated as a regicide till further orders.

For the rest of that night the pavement of Paris, particularly of those streets which led to the Faubourg St. Antoine, rattled with the muskets of changing guards, while from time to time the peaceful inhabitants were roused by the noise of a fiacre driving rapidly along, accompanied by the clatter of a body of horsemen. Then those who had gone to bed nervous, got up, and put their night-capped heads out of windows, and when they drew them in again, said to their wives: What is up now, I wonder? They are making fresh arrests.'

Whereupon the drowsy spouses growled ill-temperedly, 'Shut the window, then, if that is all.

You

have nothing to fear; you haven't the courage to be a conspirator.'

When Legrand left the crowd, he did not see that he was followed by a thin, shadowy figure, surmounted by a most lugubrious face, now pale with a great anxiety. The owner of this figure and face, the long spiky nose of which came down over his mouth, was simply the misnamed Fortuné, who, filled with suspicions at all times, had stolen to the great scene of action, from which so much had been expected, in order, that whatever the result, he might convey to his master the first intelligence of it. The faithful creature had forgotten for a while his aged mother and blind sister, and, deeply attached to his English master, who treated him more liberally, though more distantly than any former one, he had not hesitated to risk his life and liberty by mingling in a crowd which might have been the nucleus of a new revolution.

Meanwhile, the Count Ludowsky had arrived at the place of rendezvous long before the appointed hour; for the Count, though he never allowed himself to dream, sometimes indulged in a speculation, and this coup-d'état was as good as another. Indeed, when all the arrangements were completed, there seemed to be so little chance of failure, that Ludowsky, quite hopeful, had begun already to chalk out a course of action for himself, to be pursued immediately after the event. In this, the Count had evinced his natural selfishness, and the true nature of his political ambition.

Carefully concealing the plot from his party, he had taken to himself two aspiring confidants, young clever noblemen, who had less of the prejudices of the old Faubourg set, and to them alone had imparted the secret, binding them by threats and promises to keep it, and aid him. The triumvirate plotted together, and matured their plans. All seemed to be rosecoloured, if only the one blow took effect. If not, there was nothing lost, and, at least, they were safe. The

plot was a socialist one; they were legitimists. So far the police knew nothing, and for the rest suspicion could not light on them, and suspicion alone was the soul of the danger.

Still the Count thought it prudent to absent himself from the scene of action on the eventful night; and hence his agreement to the appointment with Legrand.

At a quarter past twelve, he issued from the salons of one of those noble marquises, of ancient family and historical surname, who had thought it no sin to accept a senatorship from the Empereur de Fraichedate, and retain in their hearts all the loyal sentiments of their ancestors. On one arm leaned one of his young confidants, on the other, the other; and the three faced the chill air up the Rue du Bac, till they arrived at the bridge. Here the Count left them, and the two, lighting their cigars, walked up and down on one side of the river, waiting for his return.

The Count did not feel the chill breeze that came up along the Seine. He did not notice the bright lights that still glittered in the windows of the Tuileries, and found their doubles in the ripples of the dark stream; still less did he perceive that two soldiers, with bayonets fixed, took their stand behind one of the large cumbrous figures that represent the principal towns of France, grouped around the Place Louis Quinze, as he delighted to call it. But what if he had seen them? Could he have suspected their errand? Far from it; his mind was full of one idea, the hope of attaining, almost single-handed, at least without the aid of his party, a position which he had determined should be a grand one.

He had walked up and down for a long time, nursing this flattering hope, when suddenly a hand was laid upon his shoulder. He turned at once, and beheld Legrand by his side.

'Well, what news?' cried Ludowsky eagerly.

'News' replied the Breton, with provoking calmness. Of whom? of what?'

'Why, man; of course you know what I mean.'

'Indeed, I do not, Count Ludowsky, answered the other stolidly, 'unless indeed you refer to that affair.'

'Yes, yes; to that affair. How has it succeeded?

'Very ill. She persists in her refusal.'

'She? what do you mean? Are you mad?'

'Not I, forsooth. But it strikes me you must be so, to continue to press your suit as you do.'

Ludowsky was beside himself with irritation, but he scarcely dared to ask outright about what he wanted to know. It was too dangerous.

Come, come,' he said; you are playing the fool. You are having a laugh at my expense. Speak out at once, and tell me if the blow has taken effect.'

Count Ludowsky,' replied Legrand sternly; 'no blow that you can aim will take effect there. The innocent girl whom you would sacrifice to your love of money, and your sensual admiration of her beauty, will never give in to your importunity.'

Fellow!' cried the aristocrat, savagely; take care how you speak. Don't carry your joke too far, or you may

No threats, Count. What I tell you, I know to be a fact. Mademoiselle de Ronville hates and despises you'

The Count reeled back a moment in utter confusion, but never forgetful of his dignity, as quickly recovered his self-possession, and replied in an off-hand tone

'My good Lefebvre, I see through your joke now. The Englishman has been putting you up to this. Come, let that drop, and tell me the result of the plot.'

'You are mistaken again, Count Ludowsky. Years before the Englishman met you in Paris, I knew of your engagement, if it can be called so, with Madeleine de Ronville. Years before I found you listening at a key

hole.' 'Ah, villain!' cried the Count, los

ing his temper. Ah, you talk to me like this, do you?' and he rushed upon the Breton, and seized him by the throat. But the stalwart Celt threw him off as a giant would a child.

'I

'Take care, Count,' he cried. could crush you in a moment; but I reserve you for a slower death.'

Indeed! you are kind,' replied Ludowsky, turning his back upon his opponent, and shrugging his shoulders. Yes, Count, I hold your life in my hands.'

Ludowsky laughed derisively. And on one condition I return it you safe,' continued Legrand.

Ha, ha! These socialists are amusing. But let me hear your condition, sir. It will be something original, I daresay.' You

Very original. It is this. will give me in writing, signed by your own hand, a promise, on your faith as a Catholic, and your honour as a nobleman, that you renounce for ever the hand of Mademoiselle de Ronville; that you break off your engagement, if any there still be, and that you will never renew your suit, either to herself, or to her parents.'

The Breton's voice was deep and stern, and yet it trembled a little. The Count affected not to notice it.

Ha, ha he laughed. This is fine; this is truly melodramatic. Really, Mr. Lefebvre, you would succeed at the Porte St. Martin in some grand and bloody tragedy. I think your talents would be more appreciated there than they are here.'

And with this he would have walked away, for his temper was growing warm, if he had not been dying to hear the result of his plot; so, thinking that patience was the best policy, he waited for the Breton to speak. Legrand, too, waited to give him time to make his decision. Ludowsky walked up and down; the other crossed his arms upon his chest. At last he spoke.

'Well, Count, do you accept my terms?'

'Still at this nonsense!' answered Ludowsky impatiently. Now, tell me who has hired you to come here and threaten me in this extravagant manner? It is the Englishman, is it

not?'

'No, Count; no. The man who has

sent me here stands before you. Look at him well. You know him.'

And the Breton rapidly drew off his hat, and the wig under it, and stood with his own hair in the light of the gas-lamp. The Count looked at him attentively.

'I really have not the honour of knowing you a bit better now, sir,' he said, except that I discover for the first time you have been wearing a peruke, when your own hair would have suited you better.'

'Count,' answered the Breton in a tremulous voice, but nothing moved by the other's laughter; 'I must tell you, then, who I am. I am the son of the gamekeeper of the Baron de Ronville. I am a native of Baud, and I am in love with Madeleine de Ronville.'

Ludowsky opened his eyes at the first part of the sentence; but at the last words, he lost all command over his temper.

You, you!' he hissed out. You a servant, and have the insolence to love your master's daughter, and the audacity to confess it?"

It was now the Breton's turn to be cool.

'Yes, sir, and the still greater insolence to be the rival of the Count Ludowsky, that honourable gentleman who listens at key-holes.'

Very well, very well,' cried the other, hoarse with rage; 'your master shall know of it-a pretty fellow!'

And he was walking off, when the Breton seized his arm.

You are not running away like this, Monsieur le Comte? I have offered you my conditions. You must accept or decline them.'

Ludowsky wrenched his arm away. 'And you and your conditions may go to the devil,' he shouted.

Then that is your answer?' 'Yes, and you may take it back to the rascally Englishman who sent you.'

The Breton replied by a low whistle, and the next moment the two soldiers rushed from their hiding-place, the one in front, the other behind the retreating Count.

Ah! mille diables! ah, traitre!' cried Ludowsky, who saw in a moment that he was betrayed. He plunged his hand into his breast, and drew out

a loaded pistol, which he had brought as a precaution, and with a clever shot, sent its contents into the body of the soldier before him. Then darting down the bank of the river, he plunged desperately in. The other soldier had raised his musket, and would have fired before the Count had reached the bank, but for the Breton.

'Hold!' he cried. Do not fire, but run round to the other side, while I follow him. Quick, quick!' and bounding forward, he plunged in after his rival.

It was now a trial for endurance. The Count was a capital swimmer, and the fear of death was before him. He struck out bravely, and left the heavier Breton far behind. But it is no trifle to swim in your coat and boots in the rapid stream of the Seine an hour after midnight; and before they were half way across, both men began to flag. But the stream being stronger in the middle, was now against the Count, and in favour of his pursuer, who was some yards behind him. It carried Ludowsky rapidly towards the centre arch of the bridge. The Breton guessed how it would be, and making a crosscut, gained so much upon his quarry, that the two men reached the black whirlpool under the arch about the same time. The Breton, too, was the stronger. He summoned up all his force, and with three bold strokes, was close behind the Count, when the latter, pushed to the last extremity, raised his booted foot with an effort, and with a clever movement, kicked him in the head. The blow was a sharp one, in spite of the difficulty of giving it, and took effect. The Breton was stunned, and sank like lead. Ludowsky breathed again, and striking out, managed to round the pier of the arch, and to cling for a few minutes to the stone-coping.

'If I can only muster strength to swim back again, and so give the soldier the slip,' thought he to himself.

Meanwhile, Legrand rose again. He had recovered the stun, but his forehead was cut open; the blood was flowing copiously, and he was weakened and blinded. He made two strokes, and then felt that he was giving way. It was a desperate