ntry sunshine, grooms and
stable-boys hurried between ecuries and remises, currying Mr.
Jefferson's horses and sponging off Mr. Jefferson's handsome carriage,
with which he had provided himself on setting up his establishment as
minister of the infant federation of States to the court of the
sixteenth Louis. At the porter's lodge that functionary frequently left
his little room, with its brazier of glowing coals, and walked up and
down beneath the porte-cochere, flapping his arms vigorously in the
biting wintry air, and glancing between the bars of the great outer gate
up and down the road as if on the lookout for some person or persons. In
the hotel itself, servants moved quickly and quietly about, setting
everything in the most perfect order.

At one of the windows which gave upon the extensive gardens, covered,
like all else, with the freshly fallen snow, Mr. Jefferson himself could
now and then be seen as he moved restlessly about the small, octagonal
room, lined with books and littered with papers, in which he conducted
most of his official business. A letter, just finished, lay upon his
desk. 'Twas to his daughter in her convent of Panthemont, and full of
that good advice which no one ever knew how to give better than he. The
letter being folded and despatched by a servant, Mr. Jefferson was at
liberty to indulge his restless mood. This he did, walking up and down
with his hands clasped behind his back, as was his fashion; but, in
spite of the impatience of his manner, a smile, as of some secret
contentment or happy anticipation, played about his lips. At frequent
intervals he would station himself at one of the windows which commanded
the entrance of the hotel, and, looking anxiously out at the wintry
scene, would consult the splendid new watch just made for him, at great
cost, by Monsieur l'Epine.

It was on the stroke of twelve by Monsieur l'Epine's watch when Mr.
Jefferson, gazing out of the window for the twentieth time that morning
of February 3d, saw a large travelling berline turn in at the big grille
and draw up under the porte-cochere in front of the porter's lodge. In
an instant he was out of the room, down the great stairway, and at the
entrance of the rez-de-chaussee, just as the postilion, dismounting,
opened the door of the carriage from which emerged a large, handsome man
of about thirty-five or six, who moved with surprising agility
considering the fact that he boasted but one good leg, the other