"What is this?" said Mr. Jefferson, in alarm. "'Tis impossible that it should be true. Yonder I see Montmorin. I will ask him the meaning of this," and he passed hurriedly into the salon, leaving Mr. Morris and Calvert alone.
"'Tis some infernal deviltry of St. Aulaire's, I'll be bound," said Mr. Morris. "I think I will go, too, Ned," he said, after a minute's silence, "and see if I can't find Madame de Flahaut. She will know what this wild report amounts to. Oh, you need not stand there smiling at me with those serious eyes of yours, my young Sir Galahad! She's a very pretty and a very interesting woman, if a good deal of the intrigante, and as for me, I know excellently well how to take care of myself. I wonder if you do!" and with that he passed out, laughing and drawing the velvet curtains of the window together behind him.
Mr. Calvert, thus left alone, and being shut off from the great gallery by the drapery of the window, folded his arms, and, leaning against the open casement, gazed out at the beautiful scene before him. And as he looked up in the heavens at the moon shining with such effulgence on this scene of splendor, the thought came to him that she was shining on other and far different scenes, too—on the tides of the ocean and on the cold snows of the mountain-peaks; on squalor and wretchedness and agitation in the great city so near; and especially did he think of one tranquil and beloved spot across the sea, on which he had seen this self-same moon shining with as serene a radiance many, many times. The sounds of laughter and animated talk, the click of silver swords, the strains of music from the musicians in the gallery above the OEil de Beef came faintly to him. Suddenly he was aware that the curtains had been lifted, and turning around, he saw Madame de St. André standing in the light, one hand pulling back the velvet hangings, and, behind her, Monsieur de Beaufort and St. Aulaire.
"I am come to congratulate you, Monsieur," she said, smiling, and coming into the embrasure of the window, followed by the two gentlemen—it was so deep that the four could stand at ease in it, even when the curtains had been dropped. "I am come to congratulate you! Your courtesy to the King was perfection itself. I was over against the OEil de Beef and could see very well what passed. I am sure had His Majesty been General Washington himself you could not have excelled it. You must know, gentlemen," she said, laughing maliciously and turning to St. Aulaire and Beaufort, "you must know that when I expressed my great desire to see how an American would salute a king, Monsieur told me that I need have no fear, as he had paid his respects to General Washington!"
"Monsieur does not mean to compare General Washington with His Majesty
Louis XVI, does he?" drawled St. Aulaire, insolently.
"No, Monsieur—no," says Calvert, turning to the nobleman, who was leaning negligently against the ledge of the window. "There can be no comparison. Who, indeed, can be compared with him?" he breaks out suddenly. "There is none like him. None so wise or courageous or truly royal. How can the kings of this world, born in the purple, who, through no act, nor powers, nor fitness of their own, reign over their people; how can they be compared to one who, by the greatness of his talents, the soundness of his judgment, the firmness of his will, the tenderness of his heart, the overtopping majesty of his whole nature, hath raised himself so gloriously above his fellows? To one, the kingly estate is but a gift blindly bestowed; to the other, 'tis the divine right of excelling merit. The one is ruler by sufferance; the other, by acclamation. And do you think, Madame," he goes on, turning to Adrienne, "that that ruler who has been elevated to his greatness by the choice of a people would betray that confidence, abandon that trust, as Monsieur de St. Aulaire has just announced that the King of France is about to do? Surely General Washington would not. Ah, Madame! Could you but see him; but see the noble calm of his countenance, the commanding eye, the consummate majesty of his presence, you would say with me, 'there is no king like him!'"
As Calvert finished his impassioned eulogy of his great commander, there was a slight stir near him and, looking around, he beheld the King draw back the heavy curtains and, standing in the flood of light, look quietly into the embrasure of the window. Behind him was Mr. Jefferson, pale and concerned-looking, but with a glow of ill-concealed pride on his countenance at the patriotic words he had just heard uttered. On either side of His Majesty stood Monsieur le Due de Broglie and Monsieur de Montmorin, white with anger and consternation. As the King stepped forward, Madame de St. André sank almost to the ground in a deep courtesy, while Beaufort and St. Aulaire dropped on their knees before him. Calvert alone retained his composure and stood before the King, pale, with folded arms.
For an instant there was a profound silence, and then Louis, drawing himself up to his full height and looking around upon the stricken company, turned to Calvert with so much benignity in his gaze and mien that the young American was startled and awed. He never forgot that unexpected graciousness nor ceased to feel grateful for it.
"Monsieur," said the King, and there was a thrill of deep feeling in his voice, "believe me, whatever failings crowned monarchs may have, they at least know how to value such deep devotion as you give your uncrowned ruler. Tis as you say—this kingly estate is thrust upon us; it is not of our seeking, perhaps it would not be of our choosing; how much more grateful to us, then, is the loyalty and the love of those over whom we find ourselves involuntarily placed and who must of their own free wills give us their faith and service or else withhold them entirely! Gentlemen, proud as I am of my kingdom and my subjects, I still find it in my heart to envy General Washington! And yet, have I not as loyal subjects?" He turned and looked at the company about him. At his glance a hundred cries of "Vive le roi!" were heard, and there was a sharp ring of silver swords as they leaped from their sheaths and were held aloft. The King stood smiling and triumphant. Seeing him thus, with his courtiers about him, who could dream that the 6th of October was but a few months off!
"Ah, gentlemen, I am no 'king by trade,' as our cousin of Austria hath called himself. At this moment I feel that I am indeed your King." The tumult of applause which followed these words was suddenly stilled as the King lifted his hand and pointed to St. Aulaire.