lin knew that she who was Liberty was indeed my
long lost love. A deep silence fell upon them and then arose a wild
shout of approval that seemed to come out of the very heart of France
and to be warm with its noble ardor. Every one in this beautiful
land--even the King and Queen and their kin--are thinking of Liberty
and have begun to long for her blessing. That, perhaps, is why the
scene had so impressed them.

"But we were to find in this little drama a climax wholly unexpected by
either of us and of an importance to our country which I try in vain to
estimate. When the Prime Minister handed the purse to Franklin he bade
him open it. This the latter did, finding therein letters of credit
for the three million livres granted, of which we were in sore need.
With it was the news that a ship would be leaving Boulogne in the
morning and that relays on the way had been provided for his messenger.
The invention of our beloved diplomat was equal to the demand of the
moment and so he announced:

"'Washington is like his people. He turns from all the loves of this
world to obey the call of duty. My young friend who has so well
presented the look and manner of Washington will now show you his
spirit.'

"He looked at his watch and added:

"'Within forty minutes he will be riding post to Boulogne, there to
take ship for America.'

"So here I am on the ship _L'Etoile_ and almost in sight of Boston
harbor, bringing help and comfort to our great Chief.

"I was presented to the King and Queen. Of him I have written--a
stout, fat-faced man, highly colored, with a sloping forehead and large
gray eyes. His coat shone with gold embroidery and jeweled stars. His
close-fitting waistcoat of milk white satin had golden buttons and a
curve which was not the only sign he bore of rich wine and good capon.
The queen was a beautiful, dark-haired lady of some forty years, with a
noble and gracious countenance. She was clad in no vesture of gold,
but in sober black velvet. Her curls fell upon the loose ruff of lace
around her neck. There were no jewels on or about her bare, white
bosom. Her smile and gentle voice, when she gave me her bon-voyage and
best wishes for the cause so dear to us, are jewels I shall not soon
forget.

"Yes, I had a little talk with Margaret and her mother, who walked with
me to Franklin's house. There, in his reception room, I took a good
look at the dear girl, now more beautiful than ever, and held