The Rose of Old St. Louis

by Mary Dillon

  CHAPTER XVIII

  A MAGIC COACH

  "And we meet with champagne and a chicken."

  I had made my toilet with such despatch that scarcely an hour afterparting with Mr. Lewis at my inn I found myself once more at the WhiteHouse. This time I was ushered up-stairs into an oval room, verygorgeously furnished in crimson, where the President was waiting, anda few of his guests. Beside him stood Mistress Madison, helping him toreceive; for his daughters were both away at their homes. I improvedthe moment when she was speaking to some guests, who had arrived justbefore me, to look at her well. I had heard much of her, and I knew mysisters at home would want me to tell them exactly how she looked andwhat she wore.

  I think I have often seen more beautiful women (a dark-eyed maidenfrom France was in my mind at the moment as far more beautiful), butrarely have I seen a face lighted up with more of animation and goodhumor. On her head she wore an article of dress which I had hearddescribed as worn by the ladies of London and Paris, but which I hadnever before seen; for the head-dresses of the Frenchwomen in St.Louis, while in some respects quite as remarkable, bore not theslightest resemblance to this of Mistress Madison's. It was a Turkishturban of white satin and velvet, with a jeweled crescent in frontclasping a bunch of nodding white ostrich-plumes. Her gown, of palepink satin, was heavily trimmed with ermine, and she wore gold chainsabout her waist and wrists, and carried a jeweled snuff-box in herhand. She was truly regal-looking, and I did not wonder that peoplesometimes laughingly spoke of her as "her Majesty." Her turbanespecially, I think, gave her an indescribable air of distinction; butI was not quite sure that I thought it as becoming as the dark curlinglocks of the very beautiful lady who stood beside her.

  Mr. Lewis, at this moment descrying me, came forward to present me tothe President and to Mistress Madison, who put me at my ease at onceby inquiring for my mother and for many of my Philadelphia kin, who,she declared, were old and very dear friends. I would have liked tolinger at her side, for she made me much at home, and I liked not toturn away and find myself among a roomful of strangers; but I knewthere were others waiting to be received by her, and I must move on.

  As I turned from her, a voice in my ear said imperiously:

  "Well, sir, and have you no word for your old friend, FannyCadwalader?"

  I turned quickly; it was the beautiful lady with the dark curls.

  "Miss Fanny!" I cried in joyous recognition, and bent low over herextended hand.

  I had been but a young boy when Frances Cadwalader married Mr. Erskineand went to London to live; but we had been great friends as children,and I did not understand how I had failed to recognize her. She bademe stand beside her and she would point out all the distinguishedguests, and I was glad indeed of her protection. In reply to my eagerquestion as to how she came to be in Washington, she told me that herhusband had been appointed minister from Great Britain in Mr. Merry'splace, and they were but newly arrived.

  "But where have you been living, sir," she asked, with mock severity,"that you know nothing of what has been going on in the great world?Or are we personages of so small importance that our movements are notchronicled in America?"

  I had to explain that I had been in the backwoods for months, and forthe last two months in the foreign colony of Louisiana, in the villageof St. Louis, where little of the doings of the outside worldpenetrated.

  She forgave me my ignorance, and immediately pointed out to me herhusband, a fine-looking Englishman, talking to the most gorgeouslyarrayed creature I had ever beheld: satin, laces, velvets, jewels,gold lace, and powder made up a dazzling ensemble.

  "That," said she, "is the Marquis de Casa Yrujo, and the lady with himis his wife, Sally McKean. He is magnificent, is he not? I would notquite like it if I were the marchioness, for people look at himinstead of her, and she is quite beautiful enough to be looked atherself."

  "Ah, why begrudge the marquis his meed of admiration, if he likes it?"I said. "And since he likes it, let us be grateful, for his sake, thatit is not Mistress Erskine who is the marchioness, for who can see theglitter of the stars when the lovely moon is in the sky?"

  She laughed good-naturedly at my gallantry, but I think she also likedit. We were standing near a window that looked out on the frontapproach to the White House. Suddenly Mistress Erskine exclaimed:

  "Look, look quick, my friend! Here is magnificence indeed!"

  I looked as she bade me, and saw what I conceived to be a rolling ballof burnished gold borne swiftly through the air by two gilt wings. Asit came nearer we both grew more excited--I because I did not knowwhat it was (and it looked more like a fairy coach than anything I haddreamed of), and she both because she enjoyed my bewilderment andbecause she loved magnificence. By this time as many of the otherguests as were near windows and could look out without seeming to beover-eager, or discourteous to their host, were doing so. The rollinggolden ball came to the very foot of the White House steps andstopped. What I had taken to be two gilt wings proved to be nothingmore than gorgeous footmen, with _chapeaux bras_, gilt-braided skirts,and splendid swords. They sprang to the ground, opened the door of thecoach, and from it alighted the French minister, weighted with goldlace and glittering with diamonds and jeweled orders. He turned withstately ceremony to offer his hand to a lady who was alighting fromthe coach. First a tiny foot in high-arched slippers and embroideredstocking; then a glimpse of a skirt, pale pink and silver brocade,that had a strangely familiar air. I looked quickly at the head justemerging--waving black curls, dark glowing eyes, a complexion of ivorytinted with rose.

  It was Mademoiselle Pelagie!

  My head swam. Was it indeed all a bit of enchantment? The goldencoach, the gorgeous footmen, the dazzling minister of France,and--Pelagie! Mrs. Erskine noted my agitation.

  "Qu'as-tu, m'ami?" she said softly. "You know her, then?"

  "Know whom, madam?" I asked, trying to get myself under control andseem indifferent.

  "Our new sensation, the Great Lady of France, whom all the town istalking of. She arrived two days ago at the house of the Frenchminister, and is staying there, it is said, under his protection,until she shall find suitable escort to Paris, where she goes to takepossession of her estates returned to her by Bonaparte. This is whatrumor says, and it looks as if it were true that she is a great lady,since the minister has handed her from the carriage before his ownwife. We will wait now to see where the President seats her at table;that will decide it."

  I was trying hard to hold myself in hand and make suitable answer.

  "Is the President such a stickler, then, for form and ceremony? We hadheard otherwise."

  Mistress Erskine laughed:

  "True, I forgot. If he had been as particular as he should concerningprecedence, I should not be here. You know, do you not, that myhusband's predecessor quarreled with President Jefferson because hegave his arm to Dolly Madison, in going in to dinner, instead of tothe wife of the British minister?"

  "Yes; I have heard of the 'Merry War,'" I answered, and stopped. Notanother word could I utter. Nor apparently could anybody else in theroom; for every voice was hushed as all eyes were turned to the doorwhere the French minister was entering with his wife on his left arm,and what I veritably believed to be the most beautiful creature in theworld on his right.

  It was a brilliant spectacle; for the French minister and his wifedazzled the sight by the glitter of gold lace and the flash of jewels,and Pelagie blinded the eyes as truly by a vision of radiant darkeyes, soft black tresses curling around a white throat, the gleam ofsnowy neck and rounded arms through rare lace, and the color of therose slowly tinting the rich ivory of her cheeks, as they passedthrough a double lane of guests to speak to the President.

  Now was I in two minds whether to be supremely happy in once morebeholding Mademoiselle Pelagie, whose graceful figure I thought hadforever faded from my sight when the boat rounded the bend of theOhio, or to be most miserable lest here among courtiers, and takingher rightful place with the great of the
earth, she should no longercondescend to show me the friendliness she had shown on our lastevening on the river. Neither was I quite sure whether it was my placeto go forward and speak to her or to await her pleasure in speaking tome.

  But Mistress Erskine solved the problem.

  "You do know her," she said--"I see it in your eyes; and you mustpresent me at once. And do tell me," she added eagerly: "is she sogreat a lady? We have heard so many rumors about her; what is thetruth?"

  "I have only known her," I answered, "as Mademoiselle Pelagie de VillaReal. I know that in France she is of high rank, but I do not knowwhat."

  "Ah," she said, with a little gesture of disappointment, "then youcannot introduce me properly, and I shall have to trust to that astutediplomat that he gives her her right title. Does she know it herself?"

  "I think she did not when she left St. Louis," I answered, "but hernew friends may have revealed it to her."

  "On second thought," said she, "I believe I will ask you to presenther to me instead of the minister, if you will; I would like to seehow she takes the 'Mademoiselle de Villa Real.'"

  So there was nothing for it but to brace up my courage and go forwardto speak to mademoiselle. Nothing could have been sweeter and morefriendly than her greeting, and with no trace of embarrassment, thoughI thought the French minister regarded me with a coldly critical eye.Beside his magnificence I did feel rather shabby; for, though Yorkehad done his best to freshen and restore my purple velvets by steamingand other appliances, they still were the worse for much service(especially the encounter with the chevalier), and for many packingsin saddle-bags. Of my lace ruffles I was justly proud, for nocourtier's in the room were finer or richer, and my sword and scabbardwere not to be ashamed of, for though not so bejeweled as some, theywere of the finest workmanship and inlaid with gold and pearl.

  Mademoiselle presented me to the French minister very prettily,however; and though I thought his greeting somewhat scant in courtesy,I attributed it to the suspicions he would naturally have, asmademoiselle's guardian, of a young gentleman of whom he knew nothing,and whom mademoiselle received so kindly.

  I at once preferred Mistress Erskine's request, but the minister gavePelagie no chance to reply.

  "I will myself present the comtesse to the wife of the Britishambassador," he said with alacrity, and led her away to MistressErskine.

  I saw that he had availed himself of this opportunity to cut short myinterview with mademoiselle; but, not to be outdone in diplomacy, Ifollowed leisurely, and was in time to hear the minister say:

  "It gives me pleasure to present to Madame Erskine the Comtesse deBaloit." And I saw by the profound curtsy Mistress Erskine made (andwhich mademoiselle returned very prettily, but with a touch ofcondescension, I thought) that that name meant something more to herthan it did to me.

  After the fashion of women, the two began at once a lively chatter inFrench, and I saw myself like to be shut out in the cold, with nofurther opportunity for converse with mademoiselle. But I would notdesert my post, hoping sooner or later to get my chance. And I wasrewarded; for in a few minutes Mistress Erskine was called to receiveanother presentation. But as she turned away she whispered in my ear:

  "Be careful how you behave, sir; she is of the blood royal!"

  Blood royal or not, she would always be Mademoiselle Pelagie to me,and I was not going to lose my opportunity.

  "Tell me, Comtesse," I said, "how you came here. When I saw you lastyou had no idea of coming to Washington."

  She did not answer my question at once, but, glancing up at me fromunder her long lashes in the most adorable fashion, she said softly:

  "You used to call me Comtesse when you were angry. Are you angry now?"

  "No, not when I was angry," I answered, "but when you were--were--"

  "Proud and naughty and altogether disagreeable," she interposedquickly; "and that was very often, was it not, Monsieur?"

  "Yes, Comtesse."

  "I am not either now, am I? Then why do you not call meMademoiselle?"

  "No, indeed! You are"--I was going to say "adorable," but I finishedtamely--"neither. But you are really Comtesse, and it is proper Ishould call you so." And before I was aware of what I was doing, Ifetched a great sigh from the bottom of my boots. She understood, andlooked up at me with a pathetic little smile that was sadder than mysigh.

  "I am sorry, too; I think I would rather be mademoiselle," she said.

  "And of the blood royal!" I added severely, as if accusing her of acrime.

  She dropped her eyes.

  "I cannot help it. I never knew till yesterday," meekly.

  "And your guardian," I indicated the French minister with a slight nodin his direction, "thinks it great presumption for a plain Yankeegentleman to be talking on such familiar terms with a princess of theblood, and is coming in a few minutes to put a stop to it."

  She looked at the minister quickly with a haughty turn of the head anda flashing glance, but in a moment she turned back to me with a smilecurling her scarlet lips and a humorous twinkle in her eye.

  "He would never dare," she said. "He is a good Citizen of theRepublic."

  "Nevertheless he will dare," I insisted. "I see it in his eye; sofirst tell me quickly how you got here, and when and where you aregoing."

  "Your boat was hardly out of sight, Monsieur," she answered, "whenanother came up the river direct from St. Louis with Monsieur andMadame Cerre aboard. They brought letters from my guardian directingme to go on with them to Washington (where they were going tosee the Spanish minister about some trouble they had had withAmericans--concerning peltries, I think, and land, perhaps), and theywould place me in the French minister's care. I did not expect to findyou here, for we were a whole day behind you; but we traveledrapidly."

  "And I was delayed," I said. "But when and how are you to get toParis? With the Livingstons?"

  "No; Citizen Pichon says they sailed this week. But he tells me, whatis not generally known, that your government is about to send aspecial envoy to France concerning New Orleans--a Monsieur Monroe; andMonsieur Pichon has arranged that I shall go with him."

  "Do you know when?" I asked hastily, for I saw the President movingtoward us with the Marquis de Casa Yrujo, and I was quite sure thatmeant an end to all conversation.

  "Not for several weeks, I believe; but I am not sure," she answered.

  "Will the Comtesse de Baloit permit me to present the Marquis de CasaYrujo, who will take her out to dinner?" And the President was addinga pretty little speech of compliment, in his gallant way, and themarquis was bowing solemnly and profoundly, and the comtesse wascurtsying and smiling, and I was left entirely out in the cold. I wasrescued by Mistress Madison.

  "I would like nothing better than to give you your old friend MistressErskine to take out to dinner," she said, smiling. "It is forlorn fora young man among so many grown-ups, and the only young maidensnatched away from him. But the President is not going to blundertwice in the same fashion, and will take Mistress Erskine himself. NowI will give you your choice among the rest. Whom would you like totake?"

  "Ah, your Majesty," I answered quickly, hand on my heart and bowinglow, but smiling up at her,--for she was a woman into whose amiable,cordial face no man could look without smiling,--"I suppose I dare notlift my eyes as high as my heart would dictate, and since you are outof the question, I care not whom you give me."

  "Saucy boy!"--and she tapped me lightly with her snuff-box,--"I vow Ithink you would be vastly more fun than the British minister, but mycountry demands that I sacrifice myself. I will give you theMarchioness de Casa Yrujo. If you do not know Sally McKean, shecertainly knew you when you were in petticoats."

  So I found myself seated at table between the most brilliant womanthere and the most beautiful; for the Marchioness de Casa Yrujo wasuniversally conceded to be the one, and the Comtesse de Baloit was, inmy esteem at least, as certainly the other.

  It was a long table, and bounteously furnished--lacking, perhaps, someof the
elegance of the Philadelphia tables I had been accustomed to,but with a lavish prodigality native to the South. Two new guests hadarrived while I had been so engrossed in talking to the comtesse thatI had not observed their entrance, a gentleman and his wife. The ladywas amiable-looking, but of no great distinction of appearance. Thegentleman I thought I had seen before; his long, rather lean visage,somber but dignified, looked familiar to me. When the marchioness toldme it was Mr. Monroe, I wondered that I had not recognized him atonce, for he was a familiar figure on our streets during the ten yearswhen Philadelphia was the capital. Moreover, I could have vowed he waswearing the same sad-colored drab clothes he used to appear in then,so entirely unchanged were both cut and color. I looked at him nowwith great interest, for was he not to decide the fortunes of theWest?--in which I could have taken no greater interest had I beenWestern-born. And, more than that, was he not appointed to what seemedto me a mission of far greater importance, the conveying ofmademoiselle in safety to her home?

  I could have wished Mistress Monroe was to accompany him, for she hadan air of motherly kindliness that I felt would be both protection andcomfort to Mademoiselle Pelagie; and aside from the fact that therewas something cold and austere in Mr. Monroe's face, I wassufficiently imbued with Mr. Hamilton's ideas to feel no greatconfidence in the man. (Wherein I have since thought I did Mr. Monroegreat injustice, since in every act of his life he has proved himselfa high-minded gentleman. But Mr. Hamilton's personal magnetism was sogreat that it was quite impossible for us younger men at least, not tofeel that every one who differed with him must be, if not whollyunprincipled, at least worthy of doubt and suspicion.)

  It was a brilliant dinner-table, for the exciting debate at theCapitol furnished a theme that loosed every tongue. Yet I could seethat the President, while he kept the ball rolling with a gaiety andgood humor that rather surprised me, was himself most guarded. Indeed,many were restrained, no doubt, from saying quite what they thought bythe presence of the Spanish minister, who at that time was at theheight of his popularity--his course in the Louisiana affair, whichmade him so many enemies, not having been taken until later.

  Yet most of those present were more in sympathy with Clinton of NewYork and Jackson of Georgia than with Ross of Pennsylvania andGouverneur Morris. When Mr. Erskine spoke of Gouverneur Morris'sspeech as a masterly effort, the President, whom he addressed, repliedonly by a smile so coldly polite that it was like a dash of coldwater, not only to the British minister, but to the whole table.

  I was ever a blundering idiot, and knew not when to leave well enoughalone; neither had I ever the heart to see fellow-man discomfited(especially if he were on my side of the question) without going atonce to his aid. So, forgetting that it was the powerful minister of agreat nation, who needed no help from a man entirely unknown in thegreat world and of extreme youth, I plunged boldly in.

  "I agree with you, sir, most heartily," I said. "In force and polishand weight of argument it was beyond compare. But I expected nothingless from Gouverneur Morris."

  There was a dead silence around the table; even the British ministerhad not the temerity to do more than bow his thanks in the face ofJefferson's icy smile. I caught a glimpse of the marquis's profile; hewas frowning heavily. The French minister's face was a blank, and sowas Mr. Monroe's. Pelagie looked the picture of distress, and Mr.Lewis made me a slight gesture which I took to mean, "Keep still."Even Mistress Erskine looked embarrassed, and I could understand noneof it. But as I caught Mistress Madison's eye there was a twinkle ofhumor in it, and she gave the slightest, very slightest nod in theworld toward the President.

  Then at once it flashed upon me: Gouverneur Morris was bosom friend toMr. Hamilton, and this was no place to be lauding him to the skies.Then was I seized with a rage against the restraints of society, thatwould not permit me to fling defiance in the face of all thesegrandees,--aye, and of the President himself--and declare myallegiance to Hamilton and his friends. And mingled with my rage wasan intolerable sense of mortification that I had made such an arrantfool of myself before all these older men and lovely women. But, witha tact for which I can never be sufficiently grateful to her, MistressMadison turned at once to Pelagie.

  "Comtesse," she said, "you are fresh from the colony of Louisiana, inwhich we are all so deeply interested; tell us something about yourlife in St. Louis, and how you found your Spanish rulers."

  And mademoiselle, understanding, responded at once with glowingdescriptions of her happy life there, and the courtesy and polish ofthe people, with many gay little touches of rude and funny experience.Everybody thawed at once; for most of those present had been much inParis and could understand her French as easily as I. The Presidentbecame as genial as he had been icy, and he insisted on drawing mealso into the conversation (I think for the purpose of giving me anopportunity of retrieving myself), in which I hope I bore my partmodestly; for I like not to seem either presumptuous or vainglorious,though, because I am a blunderer, I no doubt seem sometimes to beboth.

  The curtains had been drawn and the candles lighted when we sat downto dinner, though the sun was still shining; but the short winterafternoon had rapidly passed into evening, and then into dark night,and we still lingered at the table. Talk had grown more and moreanimated as the wine flowed more freely, and toasts were drunk andbright speeches made in response. I had, as in duty bound, devotedmost of my attention to the marchioness, and the marquis had engrossedPelagie. Yet there had been chance for an occasional word with her. Itwas when the marquis was rising to respond to a toast to his MostCatholic Majesty of Spain, amid the ringing of glasses, that I turnedto mademoiselle.

  "Would it be permitted an old friend to call at the house of theFrench minister on the Comtesse de Baloit?"

  "It would be unpardonable if he neglected to do so," she responded,with a bright smile.

  "Then to-morrow at two I hope to find you at home," I said, and thenadded quickly--"unless you are going to the Senate again?"

  She colored a little.

  "Did you know me?"

  But she would not let me answer her own question, for the marquis wasbeginning to speak, and it behooved us to listen. In the midst of theapplause that followed his speech, I saw the President whispersomething to the black man who stood behind his chair and send him tome. For a moment, when the messenger told me the President wished tosee me in his office after the others were gone, I thought I was to becalled to account for my malapropos speech, but I was relieved when headded:

  "The President hab a message from yo' home, sah."

  And had it not been that I liked much feeling myself so nearmademoiselle, even if I had only an occasional word from her, I wouldhave been very impatient for dinner to be over, for a message fromhome sent to the President, it seemed to me, must be of importance.

  Dinner was over at last, and there was but little lingering afterward.I had the pleasure of helping mademoiselle into her coach, thoughMonsieur Pichon looked cold and the Marquis de Yrujo tried toforestall me. But when she was shut up inside the golden ball, andthe great golden wings were once more perched on either side of it,and it rolled away glittering and flashing in the light of the torchesas it had flashed and glittered in the rays of the sun five hoursbefore, I had a sinking of the heart such as I might have felt had shebeen snatched away from my sight forever in the prophet's fierychariot bearing her to the skies.

  Mr. Meriwether Lewis was waiting to conduct me to the President'soffice, and he stayed and talked with me pleasantly until thePresident arrived; laughing with me at my _faux pas_, but telling me Ihad nothing to fear from the President's displeasure, as he was notthe man to harbor a grudge on so slight a matter, and he (though, tobe sure, he was a lifelong friend) had ever found him to be kind,considerate, and genial.

  And such I found him in our brief interview. He went directly to thepoint with me, which always goes far toward winning my liking.

  "I know your family," he said, "have ever been friends of Mr.Hamilton, and so not particularly fr
iendly to me in a political way;but your father and I have been associated much in scientificpursuits, and we have ever been congenial friends in our love ofbotanical research. He has sent me many rare plants and seeds toMonticello, and now he shows me the further courtesy of reposing aconfidence in me, and I hope you will express to him my appreciation,which I will prove by reposing a like confidence in you. Your fatherwrites me that a letter has just been received from your uncle,Monsieur Barbe Marbois, inviting you to spend some time with him inParis. He says that both he and your mother think it much to bedesired that you should improve this opportunity for completing youreducation. He says, further, that a ship sails from New York earlynext week, and requests me, if you should be in Washington when Ireceive this letter, as he suspects, that I will instruct you to loseno time in reaching home. Indeed, so urgent is he, and the time is soshort, I think, without doubt, you should set off by daybreakto-morrow morning.

  "Now, as I said before, I am going also to repose a confidence in you.It is not generally known, nor do I wish it known for the present(therefore I speak in confidence), that I have decided to send anenvoy extraordinaire to Paris for the purpose of discussing with theFrench government the possibility of purchasing New Orleans. Icommunicated this to the Senate to-day in secret session, and I nowcommunicate it to you, also in 'secret session'"--with a genial smile.

  "I have asked Mr. Monroe to undertake this delicate mission, and hehas to-day consented, and is here arranging his plans and discussingwith me and with Mr. Madison the points involved. He will not be ableto set out for some weeks, but we hope now that he can sail by theeighth of March, reaching Paris somewhere near the twelfth of April.Mr. Livingston naturally knows nothing of this, and the favor I haveto ask of you is that, immediately upon your arrival in Paris, youcall upon him and deliver to him a note which I shall give you, andalso explain fully to him all that I have said to you, all that youhave heard at dinner this evening, and particularly repeat to him asmuch as you can hold in memory of the debate you listened to in theSenate to-day."

  The President paused for a moment, and then, with a smile of raresweetness, he added:

  "Is the ardent young friend of Hamilton willing to put the Presidentunder such a load of obligations?"

  For a moment I hardly knew what response to make. Not that I dreamedof denying his request: I was only too proud and happy that he shouldhave made it. But that he should have reposed such a confidence in me,when he knew me scarcely at all, seemed incomprehensible. I made but astammering reply.

  "Your Excellency," I said, "I fear I have given you but a poor idea ofmy discretion, but since you trust me in spite of my blunder, I amvery proud to be of service to you."

  It took but a minute for the President to give me his note to Mr.Livingston, and a few further instructions, and then he bade meGod-speed with a warmth and cordiality I had never expected andcertainly never deserved at his hands.

  There was but little sleep for me that night. As Fatima clattered intothe stony courtyard of my inn, I called loudly for Bandy Jim; and whenthe poor old man came stumbling out of some inner retreat, halfblinded with sleep, I begged him to look after Fatima himself, and seethat she was well rubbed down and ready for an early morning start,and that I was called and breakfast ready by six.

  In my own room I spent not much time in packing my saddle-bags, but ittook me a good half-hour to write a brief note to mademoiselle,explaining why I was compelled to cancel my engagement with her forthe next day, and bidding her good-by in such fashion that, withoutseeming presumptuous, she might read between the lines how much of myheart I had put into it.

  I had said nothing in my note about going to Paris. I very muchdesired to keep that for a surprise when I might some day meet herthere. And, lest she should hear it from others, I wrote also a noteto Meriwether Lewis, asking him to say nothing about it to any one,and to request the President to keep my secret for me.

  Then, putting a bright new gold piece with the two notes to bedelivered by the trusty hands of Bandy Jim in the morning, I lay downto get a brief sleep, if possible--but, sleeping or waking, to dreamof Paris and the Comtesse de Baloit.