it painful
to him to meet the gaze, whether pitiful or triumphant, of the
Parisian populace, and as he did so, it chanced that his glance fell
on the group which I have described, as assembled at the windows of a
mansion which he knew well, and in which, in happier days, he had
passed gay and pleasant hours. Every eye of that group, with but one
exception, was fixed upon himself, as he perceived on the instant; the
lady alone having turned her head away, as unable to look upon one in
such a strait, whom she had known under circumstances so widely
different. There was nothing, however, in the gaze of all these
earnest eyes that seemed to embarrass, much less to offend the
prisoner. Deep interest, earnestness, perhaps horror, was expressed by
one and all; but that horror was not, nor in anywise partook of, the
abhorrence which appeared to be the leading sentiment of the populace
below.

As he encountered their gaze, therefore, he drew himself up to his
full height, and laying his right hand upon his heart bowed low and
gracefully to the windows at which his friends of past days were
assembled.

The boy turned his eye quickly toward his father as if to note what
return he should make to that strange salutation. If it were so, he
did not remain in doubt a moment, for that nobleman bowed low and
solemnly to his brother peer with a very grave and sad aspect; and
even the ecclesiastic inclined his head courteously to the condemned
criminal.

The boy perhaps marveled, for a look of bewilderment crossed his
ingenuous features; but it passed away in an instant, and following
the example of his seniors, he bent his ingenuous brow and sunny locks
before the unhappy man, who never was again to interchange a salute
with living mortal.

It would seem that the recipient of that last act of courtesy was
gratified even beyond the expectation of those who offered it, for a
faint flush stole over his livid features, from which the momentary
glow of indignation had now entirely faded, and a slight smile played
upon his pallid lip, while a tear--the last he should ever
shed--twinkled for an instant on his dark lashes. "True," he muttered
to himself approvingly--"the nobles are true ever to their order!"

The eyes of the mob likewise had been attracted to the group above, by
what had passed, and at first it appeared as if they had taken umbrage
at the sympathy showed to the criminal by his equals in rank; for
there was manifested a li