"_Mon cher vicomte_! You are surely jesting?"

"No, _mon cher prince_. I'm in earnest."

"_Sacre_! Such a bill brought before the Assembly would cause the members to be dragged from their seats. Disfranchise the blouse voters!

Why, there are two millions of them?"

"All the more reason for your getting rid of them. And _it can be done_. You think there's a majority of the deputies who would be in favour of it?"

"I'm sure there is. As you know, we've got the Assembly packed with the representatives of the _old regime_. The fear would be from the outside rabble. A crowd would be certain to gather, if such an act was in contemplation, and you know what a Parisian crowd is, when the question is political?"

"But I've thought of a way of scattering your crowd, or rather hindering it from coming together."

"What way, _mon cher_!"

"We must get up the comb of the Gallic cock--set his feathers on end."

"I don't comprehend you."

"It's very simple. On our side we'll insult your ambassador, De Morny-- some trifling affront that can be afterward explained and apologised for. I'll manage that. You then recall him in great anger, and let the two nations be roused to an attitude of hostility. An exchange of diplomatic notes, with sufficient and spiteful wording, some sharp articles in the columns of your Paris press--I'll see to the same on our side--the marching hither and thither of a half-dozen regiments, a little extra activity in the dockyards and arsenals, and the thing's done. While the Gallic cock is crowing on one side of the Channel, and the British bull-dog barking on the other, your Assembly may pass the disfranchising act without fear of being disturbed by the blouses. Take my word it can be done."

"My lord! you're a genius!"

"There's not much genius in it. It's simple as a game of dominoes."

"It shall be done. You promise to kick De Morny out of your court.

Knowing the reason, no man will like it better than he!"

"I promise it."

The promise was kept. De Morny was "kicked out" with a silken slipper, and the rest of the programme was carried through--even to the disfranchising of the blouses.

It was just as the English diplomat had predicted. The French people, indignant at the supposed slight to their ambassador, in their mad hostility to England, lost tight of themselves; and while in this rabid condition, another grand slice was quietly cut from their fast attenuating freedom.

And the programme of that more extensive, and still more sanguinary, conspiracy was also carried out to the letter.

Before the year had ended, the perjured King of Prussia had marched his myrmidons into South Germany, trampling out the revived flame of Badish and Bavarian revolution; the ruffian soldiers of the Third Napoleon had forced back upon the Roman people their detested hierarch; while a grand Cossack army of two hundred thousand men was advancing iron-heeled over the plain of the Puszta to tread out the last spark of liberty in the East.

This is not romance: it is history!

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

A TREACHEROUS STAGING.

Men make the crossing of the Atlantic in a Cunard steamer, sit side by side, or _vis-a-vis_, at the same table, three and sometimes four times a day, without ever a word passing between them, beyond the formulary "May I trouble you for the castors?" or "The salt, please?"

They are usually men who have a very beautiful wife, a rich marriageable daughter, or a social position of which they are proud.

No doubt these vulnerable individuals lead a very unhappy life of it on board ship; especially when the cabin is crowded, and the company not over select.

This occurs on a Cunarder only when the Canadian shopkeepers are flocking for England, to make their fall purchases in the Manchester market. Then, indeed, the crossing of the Atlantic is a severe trial to a gentleman, whether he be English or American.

The _Cambria_ was full of them; and their company might have tried Sir George Vernon, who was one of the assailable sort described. But as these loyal transatlantic subjects of England had heard that he was _Sir_ George Vernon, late governor of B--, it was hands off with them, and the ex-governor was left to his exclusiveness.

For the very opposite reason was their company less tolerable to the Austrian Count; who, republican as he was, could not bear the sight of them. Their loyalty stank in his nostrils; and he seemed to long for an opportunity of pitching one of them overboard.

Indeed there was once he came near, and perhaps would have done so, but for the mediation of Maynard, who, although younger than the Count, was of less irascible temperament.

Roseveldt was not without reason, as every American who has crossed in a Cunard ship in those earlier days may remember. The super-loyal Canadians were usually in the ascendant, and with their claqueries and whisperings made it very uncomfortable for their republican fellow-passengers--especially such republicans as the scene upon the Jersey shore had shown Maynard and Roseveldt to be. It was before the establishment of the more liberal Inman line; whose splendid ships are a home for all nationalities, hoisting the starry flag of America as high as the royal standard of England.

Returning to our text; that men may cross the Atlantic in the same cabin, and dine at the same table, without speaking to one another, there was an instance on board the _Cambria_. The individuals in question were Sir George Vernon and Captain Maynard.

At every meal their elbows almost touched; for the steward, no doubt by chance, had ticketed them to seats side by side.

At the very first dinner they had ever eaten together a coldness had sprung up between them that forbade all further communication. Some remark Maynard had made, intended to be civil, had been received with a hauteur that stung the young soldier; and from that moment a silent reserve was established.

Either would have gone without the salt, rather than ask it of the other!

It was unfortunate for Maynard, and he felt it. He longed to converse with that strangely interesting child; and this was no longer possible.

Delicacy hindered him from speaking to her apart; though he could scarce have found opportunity, as her father rarely permitted her to stray from his side.

And by his side she sat at the table; on that other side where Maynard could not see her, except in the mirror!

That mirror lined the length of the saloon, and the three sat opposite to it when at table.

For twelve days he gazed into it, during the eating of every meal; furtively at the face of Sir George, his glance changing as it fell on that other face reflected from the polished plate in hues of rose and gold. How often did he inwardly anathematise a Canadian Scotchman, who sat opposite, and whose huge shaggy "pow" interposed between him and the beautiful reflection!

Was the child aware of this secondhand surveillance? Was she, too, at times vexed by the exuberant _chevelure_ of the Caledonian, that hindered her from the sight of eyes gazing affectionately, almost tenderly, upon her?

It is difficult to say. Young girls of thirteen have sometimes strange fancies. And it is true, though strange, that, with them, the man of thirty has more chance of securing their attention than when they are ten years older! Then their young heart, unsuspicious of deception, yields easier to the instincts of Nature's innocency, receiving like soft plastic wax the impress of that it admires. It is only later that experience of the world's wickedness trains it to reticence and suspicion.

During those twelve days Maynard had many a thought about that child's face seen in the glass--many a surmise as to whether, and what, she might be thinking of him.

But Cape Clear came in sight, and he was no nearer to a knowledge of her inclinings than when he first saw her, on parting from Sandy Hook! Nor was there any change in his. As he stood upon the steamer's deck, coasting along the southern shore of his native land, with the Austrian by his side, he made the same remark he had done within sight of Staten Island.

"I have a presentiment that child will yet be my wife!"

And again he repeated it, in the midst of the Mersey's flood, when the tender became attached to the great ocean steamer, and the passengers were being taken off--among them Sir George Vernon and his daughter-- soon to disappear from his sight--perhaps never to be seen more.

What could be the meaning of this presentiment, so seemingly absurd?

Sprung from the gaze given him on the deck, where he had first seen her; continued by many a glance exchanged in the cabin mirror; left by her last look as she ascended the steps leading to the stage-plank of the tender--what could be its meaning?

Even he who felt it could not answer the question. He could only repeat to himself the very unsatisfactory rejoinder he had often heard among the Mexicans, "_Quien sabe_?"

He little thought how near that presentiment was of being strengthened.