--with us. My mother's heart is
kind, and my father is a soldier; we shall all love to serve you.
Let us take courage! They cannot prevent us here. You could endure
exile for him?"

"Exile? Ah, how do you shame me! All these years I might have"--

"No," said Elizabeth, hurriedly. "Never till now. You could not. The
way was not open till this day. Love, too must have its servants. I
am yours and his. I trust in God. In His time he has opened His own
way."

By Mlle. Desperiers's management, Elizabeth without difficulty
obtained audience, the next day, of the chief ministerial power of
the realm.

I shall attempt no pictorial description of that interview. The men
of authority know best how often women come into their presence,
burdened with prayers for the pardon of those who have justly, or
unjustly, fallen under the displeasure of the powers that be. From
high station and low Love draws its noblest and most courageous
witnesses, and the ears of the officials are not always deaf.

The case of Stephen Cordier was of sufficient importance to come
under discussion before the governing power as often as that power
underwent a change in person or policy. Twice petitions in his
behalf had been presented,--once by the lady of Chateau Desperiers
in person,--petitions that were in themselves the proudest praise
of him, the greatest honor that could be conferred upon him. They
had fallen powerless to the ground.

The old man, statesman and soldier, now holding office, had, before
he came to this position, knowing the interest and the kind of
interest taken by Madeline Desperiers in the petitions presented,
volunteered his name to the last document, mentioning, though with
due deference to the fashion of the world, the price at which it was
to be procured,--her hand. His name had just the weight that would
have made the other more honorable names successful in their pleading.
What sort of success was to be expected, now that he occupied the
passage to royalty? Elizabeth Montier crossed the threshold of the
apartment where the old warrior and statesman sat amongst books and
papers, without dismay ruling by pen and voice, as confident in
himself, when he took up these weapons, as in the former time of
sword and powder.

His practice was to receive all petitioners,--all should have
audience. But he made short work of business. Never were affairs
dispatched with more celerity, seldom with less conscience. At a
glance his kee