you,' interposed the
other. 'If I were betrayed, my life is not worth an hour's purchase.'

'And is it worth preserving in such a garb as that? I thought you had
been an apter scholar, Gerald, and that ere this you had found your way
to fortune. The Prince de Conde wrote me that you were his trustiest
agent.'

'And it is on a mission from him that I am here this day. I have been
waiting for weeks long to see and speak with you. I knew that you were
ill, and could find no means to approach you.'

'You come too late, my friend--too late,' said Mirabeau, sighing:
'Royalist, Girondin, Bourbon, or the Mountain, they are all illusions
now!'

'The great principles of justice are not an illusion, sir; the idea of
Right is immutable and immortal!'

'I know of nothing that does not change and die,' said Mirabeau gravely;
then added, 'But what would you with me?'

'I have not courage to disturb your suffering sick-bed with cares you
can no longer feel. I had not imagined I should have found you so ill as
this.'

'Sick unto death--if you can tell me what death means,' said the other
with a strange smile.

'They who sent me,' resumed Gerald, not heeding his last remark,
'believed you in all the vigour of health as of intellect. They have
watched with almost breathless interest the glorious conflict you have
long maintained against the men of anarchy and the guillotine; they
have recognised in you the one sole man, of all the nation, who can save
France----'

The sick man smiled sadly, and laying his wasted fingers on Gerald's
arm, said, 'It is not to be done!'

'Do you mean, sir, that it is the will of the great Providence who
rules us that this mighty people should sink under the tyranny of a few
bloodthirsty wretches?'

'I spoke not of France; I spoke of the Monarchy, said Mirabeau. 'Look
at those flowers there: in a few hours hence they will have lost their
odour and their colour. Now, all your memory--be it ever so good--will
not replace these to your senses. Go tell your master that his hour
has struck. Monarchy was once a Faith; it will henceforth be but a
Superstition.'

'And is a just right like this to be abandoned?'

'No. The stranger may place them on the throne they have lost; and if
they be wise enough to repay the service with ingratitude, a few more
years of this mock rule may be eked out.'

'Would that I had power to tell you all our plans, and you the strength
to listen to me!' cried Gerald: 'you