A Story Of The French Solution

Froni the Iioston Timea. One lovely day in August a year or two before the frantic uprising of the long oppressed and down trodden people of France, there sat in an exquisito boudoir in the palace át Versailles, two ladies engaged in lively conversa! ion. The room wasacharmini; üttle retreat with painted ceilings and walls huns with Gobelin tapestry of maguidcent workmanship; there were rosewood floors, curtaina of silk and lace, furniture of gray and gold, chefs-d' amore of carving and enamel, glass, lustres, gothic clocks, embroidered screons, paintingsby Vernetanda thousand Otber trifles and luxurious appointments of which thefairqueen was so fond. The eider lady, who was between thirty-three and thirty-four ycnrs of age wasremarkably bnautiful, although at first sight, great air of hauteur detracted slightly from the charm of lier expreszon. Her carriaae was so proud and her whole ap. pearance so distinguished one could teil at a glance that the lady was the Queen Marie Antoinette. Her comI panion who was ten or twelve years : younger washardly less beautiful than her majesty. Her complexion waa ; charmini;; her brownhair drawn back from the temples showed to ad tage the perfect oval of her face, two large blue eyescalmand serene, a wellformed mouth and pearly teeth, such was the appearance of the favorita maid of honor to the queen. "Jeanne," said the queen, as she bent over her embroidery frame, "I havo oiten heard of the great and wonderful power of the Socerer Count Cagliostro, ma belle; we will visit him this afternoon in disguise and beg him to cast our horóscopo and favor us with a glimpse into the future." "But. your inajesty," replied the lady calfed Jeanne, "What will the king say? I fear hewill notapprove." "We will nofc inform him where we are going, and on niy return, if the future is to be a bright one, then the king shall hear of our adventure." It was toward the close of the day when two sisters of charity in black robes and close black bonnets might have beenseen hurryingalong through obscure streeta trying to elude observatiön, and the taller one i heldahandkerchief to her face whenever a passer-by glanced toward them. At leiigth hailing a public carriage, they were driven rapidly through the well lighted thoroughfares, until they canie to a lai'ge house with an aristocratie air; it was dark and sombre looking outside and was surrounded by a courtyard. The coadunan opened the gate for bis nassengers, and gave a long oud knock on the oaken door and left, after being told to return in an hour's time. A servant answered the sunimons and the talier laJy asked for Count Cagliostro; he bowed, and silently and noiselessly as a shadow he glided over the thick carput. A bronze lamp dimly lighted up the largo and lofty hallway. Ushering the strangers into a niagnificent apartment, all lighted with dozens of perfumed wax lights in glittering candelabras md gorgeouswith velvet furniture, tiie man announced in a loud voice: "Two ladies to eee the Count Cagliostro." Seated at a table in the center ot the room was a gentleman near forty years of age, short, fair haired, blue eyed, with a pensive expression on his fine looking countenance, and nobility stamped on his open and manly forehead. Thia was the then fainous necromancer. The maid of honor trembledand clungneryouslyto the arm of her royal mistress, but the queen ad vaneed with a proud step. "Your majesty honors my humble abode," said the gentleman as he arose and kneeling kissed the hand of the queen. "Ah! so you penetrated my disguise?" lauuhed tlie lady, butblushing a lii tl as she met the clear blue eyes of the count fixed upon her lovely coimtenance. "Who could ever forget the face of Marie Antoinette, the most beautiful queen who ever sat upon a throne?" replied Cogliostro, as he placed chairs for the ladies, bowing to the ground as he (lul so. Marie Antoinette removed her heavy hood and cloak and her beauty was dazzling. Robed in a soft grey Klk with costly laces at the neck and short elbow sleeves, her fair hair of which she was so proud dressed hisili on her head in the fashion of the day, and her eye3 blue as woodlaii'l violets, herthroat, around which glittered a circle of diamonds, was long and slender, her hands, also flashing with gema, were perfect, the expreasion of her faca severe but noble. Jeanne also laid aside her disuuise and then the queen turningto the count said, while a sweet smile lighted up har. countenance. "We have intrr.ded on your valuable time I fear, but we wish you to favor us with our horoscope." Jeanne turned pale as the strange bein glanced toward her, for she thoii'jht oi the many runiors she had heard in regard to him; how he was said to havf the art of renewing his youth, that he liad lived for thousands of years and yet was young, that he could reail as froni a bookthe destiny of all he met. At this request oi the queen Count Cogliostio looked at her with a melancholy air full of pity and kindness, and Jeanne feltathrillofsuperstitious honor pervade her frame; but the queen Blttiling and calm awaitedquietly muil the mysterious man should speak. "Madame, my honored mistres, I cannot rcfuse a request of yours, il you insist," and the count bowedhumbly before his royal mistress. 'But I do insist, an'l if that willnot answer then I command," the queen smiiingly repliad; but at the same time, Jeanne who knew Marie AntoinI ette well, feit that she meant to be I obeyed in si)ite of entreaties. No inore being said the count sat in silence for a moment, then there seeuied to beam from hia blue orbs an inspired light. "Your past has been pleasant, you havo had yonth, health, beauty and adoration. Your futuro is clouded. I cannot see clearly, but - " and hesitating hu stopped. "Qc on, the queen coramands," said a palm voice and Maíie Antoinette iat smiling and undismayed. fc " "1 see a great croivd," continued Cosliostro in a low tone, "and a scaffold- a lady ascendí the steps, theexecutioner is thero.the lady's long huiría snowy white; she turns- it is the queen, it is Marie Antoinette." He eeased anda cry of horror broke from the palé lips of Jeaniu'. "ThÍ8 is horrible! tell me you are josting," said the maid of honor looking at hini with u supplicatins! air. "I never iest," the strange being answered coldiy. "You are not very gallant, Count; you frighten my little Jeanne hy your ghastly prophecies," cal mi y spoketho queen, althouíjh trnth to teil, her own cheek was slightly palé. "If yon can see anything bright in her Ufe teil her of it and drive away these shadaws." Cogliostro looked at the brave, beautiful lady with respect and aclniiration: then turning to Jeanne he smiled as he ga.ed on her swect and blushing face. "You will ere many years pass over your head be a hx,ppy wife and niother; but before sonshine comes there will be sorrow, darknidts and grief. You will marry a man vhe people, who will save you in t.!" ■ of your greatest danger." "Happy girl," sighed . .. . Antoinette as they resumed theis disguises and prepared to leave, "I envy you- even I a queen, envy one who can pass the evenina of her days in quiet and seclusion. To me is desired love and trust. I offen wish I had been born an humble péftsant, and had one heai't among the many that I could cali all my own; but if I am to die on the scaffold I will die as befits the queen ot France." The king never knew ofthedark fate predicted to his royal spouse. The Count de Choisseul, father of Jeanne, was very vrealthy. and had vast possessions in the south of r ranee. He ws very haughty, looking down on the common people, andtreatingthem as mere servants fit to do his will. He was a staunch royalist adonng the king and his beautiful queen. The count's palnce, or hotel as it was calied, was almost as masnificent as the royal residence. Among the nobleman's liousehold was a yoiing gentleman holding the office of private secretary to Count de Choisseul. Francois Varney was a man of the people. He and his brother Claude were orphans. Francois was a fine looking truin, with interest beaming from the large dark eyes, and in spite of his hum ble birth his air was distinguished, his manner perfect, and a warm and loving heart beat within his bosom. He had presumed to lift his eyes and thoughts towards the I daughter of his employer; and dared in his secret moments to even think that 8ome day he inight earn the love of the peerless Jeanne de Choisseul. Claide Varney, eider brother of Francois, was an extreme republican, hating tho aristocracy and hating his brother, as the wicked and unprincipled ever hate the honorable and the nnble. They had one relative, an uncle, Jacques Varney, who resided in Paris. He kept a public house there, was a good honest citizen, but atrue man of the people, hating the king and his loyely queen. The months passed swiftly. At court and among the noblos all was gaiety and balls, masquerades, water parties and other füstivities folio wed each in their season. The rich rolled in luxury, the )oor were starving. The queen so harming, so beautiful, was called a coquette, a butterfly. Marie Antoinette was a true I in, and gloried in being loved. It was an innocent coquetry, but alas! the j ,itne was soon coming when every ittle act of the poor lady would be )rought up in dark array against her. The king, Louis XVI., was vulgar, coarse and sensual; and in spite oi lis elegant costumes covered with embroidery, and his hands sparkling with diamonds, and his breast blazng jewelled orders and crosses his majesty had nothing digified or kingike in his demeanor. The dark storm came, and at last it broke with fury over the 'heads of royalty and nobility, but even when ;he Bastile was taki'n and ;tscaptives iberated, the nobles would not beieve that anything could menace their no!y order. Who has not read of the Keign of Terror? Three men of the people were the leaders in those terrible times, Marat, Dan ten and Robespierre. They had power of the convention and the mob which none dared resiít. The guillotino was the awful instrument used for cutting olí heads quickly. For a long time the haughty aristocrats stood around their king and queen, but at last they began to flee, for the streets of Paris resounded with the sound of oppression and the cries of the wounded, and Coblentz was filled with refugees. The young secretary, Francois Varney, urged the father of Jeanne to flee while yet there was time, but like a brave and courtly gentleman he cast in his lot with his royal master and mistress and heeded not the advice of his friends. The king and queen were still at the Tuileries and with them a few of their staunch friends. Tho count was in the cabinet of Louis, Jeanne in the boudoir of her royal mistress, ouddenly the air resoundea with oaths and insulting cries. The snob had reached Versátiles and surrounuedthe palace. They shouted and yelled for the "baker, his wife and little boy," andforthe "Austrian," as they tetnied the queen. Among the mob was Claude Varney, covered with dust, his hands dripping blood. This monster who had killed innocent wonnen and childten now thirsted for the Uves bf the hated count ana his dauehter. "ïhey are in there, the haughty Count de Choiseul and his dainty daughter," cried the ruflian to his comrades. "It was this aristocrat who had mehorsewhipped a year ago fot' some slight offenee. He hates thecomraon people and is a tyranb to all. Out with hfml kill him andéis white-faced brat!" Francois S. Varney had donned the red cap of liberty, and shouted as he with the mob surrounded the palace: 'Down with the king! Down with the Austrian! Away with aristocracy." At length he managed to slip away from the sight of his cruel brother, and without ceremony he hastenedto the little boudoir where he hoped to tind Jeanne. By this time the royal couple with their children had manaced, by the help of friends, to escape from the palace s.nd weró fleeing aa fast as fleet horses cou'd carry them from the scène of bloodshed. When the lover of Jeanne entered the luxurious room of the fucitive queen, he found the daughter of the count alone, for her father had bade her rernain there until he carne for her. He was assistina his master and jnistress in their efïorts to leave the palace. "Jeanne, my love, ray life!" cried Francois, forgettinu all etiquette, all concealment oí his feelingsin this hour of peril. "I have cometo save you. The mob are crying for yonr father's and your blood. Come with me before it is too late!" The half iainting girl, even when a thousand dansers surrounded her. feit a thrill of deüght as she realizpd 8he wns beloved by this noble youth, and though pale and trembling, she murmured in low tones: "Dear Francois, you are brave and devoted to risk your life for my sake, but if it is any reward to you for the peril yon are in, hear me confesa that I love you, have loved you since the first hour we met." "My dni-lin?, believe me when I say you shall be happy, you siiall escape from here and " "But my father," interrupted Jeanne. "Alas! my darüng. The connt ha9 been arrested, and is to be tried before the dreaded convention, but ve nave no time to waste. Lit me savo you. I will then see what I can dofor your father. See, I have brought you a disguise," and he showod her a simÍ)le peasantdress. "Put thisonquicky, for in ten minutes the mob will be hore." In the gray dusk Jeanne made her escape disguised at a grisette, in short dress, laced bod ice, hih capote. When the brother of Franc lia entered the palace his intended víctima were beyond his reach. The younjj secretary took Jeanne to the house of his únele, the eood Jacques. Kortunately for the dauzhter of theCount de Coisseul, the hlood-thirsty villian, Claude Varney, had been wóanded and therefore could not visit his uncle. Every one was charmed with the new barmaid who appcarcd at the inn of Jacques. It was true her skin was a little brown, her hair coarse, and the glasses she worenotvery becoming, but then she was so pleasant, 80 williag and so nimble of foot! No one ever waited on the rude crowd as this girl did. Poor delicate litiKaristocrat! many a bitter liour did she pass, many a blush bathed her cheek as she listened to the volpir jest, the loud laugh and coarso remarks of the ruffians who carne totho Royal Arms to drink. "My father- where is he?" said Jeanne to her lover, as they were for a brief moment alone together. What conld Francois sny? How could he teil her of the tale of her beloved parent who had niet his duath the day before by the guillotine? "Yon hesitute, you turn pa'e! Alas! my father, my poor father! I ain alone in thu world!" said the gr ief-a triolen cirl, bursting into tears. "Not alone, dear Jeanne," murmured Francois. "You have me. I am poor and humble, butl will love and protect you, and try to make you happy." At length it became danyerous for Jeanne toremainlonger under the roof of the Royal Arms. Glande was expected thero every day, and in spite of her disguise would recoijinze the royal tugitive. So the knul hearted uncle of Francois (ave the young coupla money, they wen secrctly raarrled by a priest.and theri fled to Coblentz.where Je&nnemet man y oí be:' former friends. Years passed. The imfortunate queen had Iciiü since niet the sad fate predicted by the Count Cattliostro; ind JeannedeChoisseul, now Madame Varney, was happy and beloved.. And all housh her noble frienda often spoke ol the uneaqual match, she never cave a thought to the difïerence in rank between her and her husband. "Mon Ami, you are alinost as obarmin as when you becanie ray bride, now fifteen years ao," "said Francois to Jeanne one day, as she stood sniiling by bis side, while at their feet played two lovely children, and their eldest, a pirl ja.-t in her teens and the image of her fair mother uacl on the blne-eyed lady. "Have you ever repented marryinj so much beneath you, ma, belle?" asked her hnsband, as the settin aun enveloped the group in a inidat of golden splendor. "Never, dear Francois. I am happy with you and our children, and the past seems like a fearful dream."