“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. Andre 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.