“I really cannot tell,” briskly said the fair narrator.  “But I know that the ladies of the court did not.  As the king retired, and we remained in the opera boxes to amuse ourselves a little with the display, we heard, to our astonishment, a proposal that the tables should be cleared away, and the ladies invited to a dance upon the spot.  The proposal was instantly followed by the officers climbing into the boxes, and by our tearing up our pocket-handkerchiefs to make them cockades.  We descended, and danced loyally till daybreak.”

“With nothing less than field-officers, I hope?” said a superb cavalier, with a superb smile.

“I hope so too,” laughed the lady; “though really I can answer for nothing but that the cotillon was excessively gay—­that our partners, if not the best dancers upon earth—­I always honour the garde du corps,”—­and she bowed to the captain; “were the most obliged persons possible.”

“Ah, but roturiers, madame!” said a stiff old duke, with a scorn worthy of ten generations of ribands of St Louis.

“True; it was most melancholy, when one comes to reflect upon it,” said the lady, with an elevation of her alabaster shoulders to the very tips of her ears.  “But on that evening roturiers were in demand—­popularity was every thing; the bourgeoisie of Versailles were polished by their friction against the garde du corps.  And I am sure, that if the same experiment, distressing as it might be, were tried in every opera salon in the provinces, and we had longer dances and shorter harangues, more fiddles and fewer patriots, all would be well again in our ’belle France.’”

“But—­your news, monsieur le capitaine,” was the demand all round the table.

“I almost dread to allude to it,” said the captain, “as it may seem to contradict the opinion of madame la duchesse; yet I am afraid that we shall have to regret this fete as one of the most disastrous events to the king.”  He stopped.  But the interest of the time overcame all other considerations.  “Ah, gallantry apart, let us hear!” was the general voice; and, with every eye instantly fixed on him, and in the midst of lips breathless with anxiety, and bosoms beating with terror at every turn of the tale, the captain gave us his fearful narrative:—­

“The banquet of the 1st of October,” said he, “had delighted us all; but its consequences, which, I quite agree with madame, ought to have restored peace, were fatal.  It lulled Versailles into a false security, at the moment when it roused Paris into open rebellion.  The leaders of the populace, dreading the return of the national attachment to our good king, resolved to strike a blow which should shake the monarchy.  Happening to be sent to Paris on duty next day, I was astonished to find every thing in agitation—­The workmen all in the streets; the orators of the Palais Royal all on their benches, declaiming in the most furious manner.  Crowds