the rear. All but the last-named carried
matches for their firearms, which were loaded with blank cartridge. The
supports carried pikes. The drums beat, the colours flew, as Charles and
his staff, surrounded by an escort of the mounted infantry, emerging
from the south gate of the castle, rode along the low-water causeway.

Mme. de Maufant and her sister, mounted on sober but well-bred nags, and
accompanied by some of their farm hands in gala costume, occupied a
foremost place among the spectators. But the appearance of the castle
_cortege_ threatened their comfort, if not their safety. For the public
excitement grew from moment to moment, "and those behind cried forward!
and those before cried back!" The younger and more excitable especially,
spurred by the fine weather and the novel spectacle, pressed eagerly to
the front, mixed with mothers of scrofulous children, desirous of
gaining for them the healing virtue of the royal touch. The king's
horse, short of work, and participating in the general excitement,
reared and curvetted in the crowd, but was reined in by his skillful
rider.

Charles was in his purple velvet, with no token of a military purpose.
But on his left rode a gigantic guardsman in full panoply, while Elliot
came on the right (but with his horse half a length behind) in gorgeous
array, though more for show than for service. In his silver helmet
fluttered a lissom ostrich plume, his shining cuirass was damascened
with gold, which metal also glittered on the hilt of his sword. The tops
of his buff boots and gauntlets were fringed with costly Brussels point.
As they approached the crushed and alarmed ladies, a militia officer
rushing to their aid from his place between the guns and the nearest
company of foot, came into involuntary contact with the glistening groom
of the chamber. The lace of the later's boot caught in the steel
shoulder piece of the infantry officer, and was torn. Irritated and
excited Elliot brought down his hand upon the unconscious offender, and
dealt him a heavy blow on the side of the face. At this sight--with
nerves already overstrung--Marguerite became unable to control her
usually placid steed; and Alain le Gallais--for he was the militia
officer--was diverted from his instinctive but imprudent impulse of
immediate retaliation, by seeing the young lady slip from her saddle
into his arms.

The little incident was over in an instant, and the king passed on, but
not without taki