impossible. He was to be the escort of a duchess;
then to go to a dinner at the Russian embassy, and was under engagements
to three balls in the course of the evening. Nothing could be clearer than
that such duties must supersede the slight concerns of office. I left him
under the hands of his valet, curling his ringlets, and preparing him to
be the admiration of mankind.

I saw Mendoza secretly again; received from him additional intelligence;
and, as I was not inclined to make a second experiment on the "elegant
extract" of diplomacy, and escort of duchesses, I went, as soon as the
nightfall concealed my visit, to the hotel of the Foreign Minister. This
was my first interview with the celebrated Dumourier.

He received me with the courtesy of a man accustomed to high life; and I
entered on the purport of my visit at once. He was perfectly astonished at
my tidings. He had known that strong resolutions had been adopted by the
party opposed to the Cabinet; but was startled by the distinct avowal of
its intention to overthrow the monarchy. I was struck with his appearance,
his quickness of conception, and that mixture of sportiveness and depth,
which I had found characteristic of the higher orders of French society.
He was short in stature, but proportioned for activity; his countenance
bold, but with smiling lips and a most penetrating grey eye. His name as a
soldier was at this period wholly unknown, but I could imagine in him a
leader equally subtle and daring;--he soon realized my conjecture.

We sat together until midnight; and over the supper-table, and cheered by
all the good things which French taste provides and enjoys more than any
other on earth, he gave full flow to his spirit of communication. The
Frenchman's sentences are like sabre-cuts--they have succession, but no
connexion.

"I shall always converse with you, M. Marston," said he, "with ease; for
you are of the noblesse of your own great country, and I am tired of
_roturiers_ already.--The government has committed dangerous faults. The
king is an excellent man, but his heart is where his head ought to be, and
his head where his heart.--His flight was a terrible affair, but it was a
blunder on both sides; _he_ ought never to have gone, or the government
ought never to have brought him back.--However, I have no cause to
complain of its epitaph. The blunder dissolved that government. I have to
thank it for bringing me and my colleagues into power. Our bus