ry Street,
past the meeting-house of Friends and the simple grave of the great
Franklin, the man too troubled, and the mother too anxious, to heed or
question when they moved by the burial-ground where Royalist and Whig
lay in the peace of death and where, at the other corner, Wetherill with
the free Quakers built the home of a short-lived creed.

Oeller's Tavern--because of its French guests called a hotel--was on
Chestnut Street, west of Fifth, facing the State House. A civil French
servant asked them into a large room on the right of what was known as a
double house. It was neat and clean, and the floor was sanded. Presently
appeared Maxim Oeller. Yes, he had rooms. He hoped the citizen would
like them, and the citizeness. De Courval was not altogether amused. He
had spoken English, saying, however, that he was of France, and the
landlord had used the patois of Alsace. The mother was worn out, and
said wearily: "I can go no farther. It will do. It must do, until we can
find a permanent lodging and one less costly."

Mr. Oeller was civil and madam well pleased. For supper in her room, on
extra payment, were fair rolls and an omelet. De Courval got the mud off
his clothes and at six went down-stairs for his supper.

At table, when he came in, were some twenty people, all men. Only two or
three were of French birth and the young man, who could not conceive of
Jacobin clubs out of France, sat down and began to eat with keen relish
a well-cooked supper.

By and by his neighbors spoke to him. Had he just come over the seas, as
the landlord had reported? What was doing in France? He replied, of
course, in his very pure English. News in London had come of Mirabeau's
death. Much interested, they plied him at once with questions. And the
king had tried to leave Paris, and there had been mobs in the provinces,
bloodshed, and an attack on Vincennes--which was not quite true. Here
were Americans who talked like the Jacobins he had left at home. Their
violence surprised him. Would he like to come to-morrow to the Jacobin
Club? The king was to be dealt with. Between amusement and indignation
the grave young vicomte felt as though he were among madmen. One man
asked if the decree of death to all _emigres_ had been carried out.
"No," he laughed; "not while they were wise enough to stay away."
Another informed him that Washington and Hamilton were on the way to
create a monarchy. "Yes, Citizen, you are in a land of titles--Your
Ex