bbish, and the castle
towers razed to the level of the roof. The descendant of the Franks
looked for the missing Gothic turrets and the picturesque weather vanes
which used to rise above them; and his eyes turned to the sky, as if
asking of heaven the reason of this social upheaval. No one but Chesnel
could understand the profound anguish of the great d'Esgrignon, now
known as Citizen Carol. For a long while the Marquis stood in silence,
drinking in the influences of the place, the ancient home of his
forefathers, with the air that he breathed; then he flung out a most
melancholy exclamation.

"Chesnel," he said, "we will come back again some day when the troubles
are over; I could not bring myself to live here until the edict of
pacification has been published; _they_ will not allow me to set my
scutcheon on the wall."

He waved his hand toward the castle, mounted his horse, and rode
back beside his sister, who had driven over in the notary's shabby
basket-chaise.

The Hotel d'Esgrignon in the town had been demolished; a couple of
factories now stood on the site of the aristocrat's house. So Maitre
Chesnel spent the Marquis' last bag of louis on the purchase of the
old-fashioned building in the square, with its gables, weather-vane,
turret, and dovecote. Once it had been the courthouse of the bailiwick,
and subsequently the presidial; it had belonged to the d'Esgrignons
from generation to generation; and now, in consideration of five hundred
louis d'or, the present owner made it over with the title given by the
Nation to its rightful lord. And so, half in jest, half in earnest, the
old house was christened the Hotel d'Esgrignon.

In 1800 little or no difficulty was made over erasing names from the
fatal list, and some few emigres began to return. Among the very first
nobles to come back to the old town were the Baron de Nouastre and his
daughter. They were completely ruined. M. d'Esgrignon generously offered
them the shelter of his roof; and in his house, two months later, the
Baron died, worn out with grief. The Nouastres came of the best blood
in the province; Mlle. de Nouastre was a girl of two-and-twenty; the
Marquis d'Esgrignon married her to continue his line. But she died in
childbirth, a victim to the unskilfulness of her physician, leaving,
most fortunately, a son to bear the name of the d'Esgrignons. The old
Marquis--he was but fifty-three, but adversity and sharp distress had
added months to every year-