The reader must now cross the Seine with us and follow us tothe door of the Carmelite Convent in the Rue Saint Jacques.It is eleven o'clock in the morning and the pious sistershave just finished saying mass for the success of the armiesof King Charles I. Leaving the church, a woman and a younggirl dressed in black, the one as a widow and the other asan orphan, have re-entered their cell.

The woman kneels on a prie-dieu of painted wood and at ashort distance from her stands the young girl, leaningagainst a chair, weeping.

The woman must have once been handsome, but traces of sorrowhave aged her. The young girl is lovely and her tears onlyembellish her; the lady appears to be about forty years ofage, the girl about fourteen.

"Oh, God!" prayed the kneeling suppliant, "protect myhusband, guard my son, and take my wretched life instead!"

"Oh, God!" murmured the girl, "leave me my mother!"

"Your mother can be of no use to you in this world,Henrietta," said the lady, turning around. "Your mother hasno longer either throne or husband; she has neither son,money nor friends; the whole world, my poor child, hasabandoned your mother!" And she fell back, weeping, into herdaughter's arms.

"Courage, take courage, my dear mother!" said the girl.

"Ah! 'tis an unfortunate year for kings," said the mother."And no one thinks of us in this country, for each mustthink about his own affairs. As long as your brother waswith me he kept me up; but he is gone and can no longer sendus news of himself, either to me or to your father. I havepledged my last jewels, sold your clothes and my own to payhis servants, who refused to accompany him unless I madethis sacrifice. We are now reduced to live at the expense ofthese daughters of Heaven; we are the poor, succored byGod."

"But why not address yourself to your sister, the queen?"asked the girl.

"Alas! the queen, my sister, is no longer queen, my child.Another reigns in her name. One day you will be able tounderstand how all this is."

"Well, then, to the king, your nephew. Shall I speak to him?You know how much he loves me, my mother.

"Alas! my nephew is not yet king, and you know Laporte hastold us twenty times that he himself is in need of almosteverything."

"Then let us pray to Heaven," said the girl.

The two women who thus knelt in united prayer were thedaughter and grand-daughter of Henry IV., the wife anddaughter of Charles I.

They had just finished their double prayer, when a nunsoftly tapped at the door of the cell.

"Enter, my sister," said the queen.

"I trust your majesty will pardon this intrusion on hermeditations, but a foreign lord has arrived from England andwaits in the parlor, demanding the honor of presenting aletter to your majesty."

"Oh, a letter! a letter from the king, perhaps. News fromyour father, do you hear, Henrietta? And the name of thislord?"

"Lord de Winter."

"Lord de Winter!" exclaimed the queen, "the friend of myhusband. Oh, bid him enter!"

And the queen advanced to meet the messenger, whose hand sheseized affectionately, whilst he knelt down and presented aletter to her, contained in a case of gold.

"Ah! my lord!" said the queen, "you bring us three thingswhich we have not seen for a long time. Gold, a devotedfriend, and a letter from the king, our husband and master."

De Winter bowed again, unable to reply from excess ofemotion.

On their side the mother and daughter retired into theembrasure of a window to read eagerly the following letter:

Dear Wife, - We have now reached the moment of decision. Ihave concentrated here at Naseby camp all the resourcesHeaven has left me, and I write to you in haste from thence.Here I await the army of my rebellious subjects. I am aboutto struggle for the last time with them. If victorious, Ishall continue the struggle; if beaten, I am lost. I shalltry, in the latter case (alas! in our position, one mustprovide for everything), I shall try to gain the coast ofFrance. But can they, will they receive an unhappy king, whowill bring such a sad story into a country already agitatedby civil discord? Your wisdom and your affection must serveme as guides. The bearer of this letter will tell you,madame, what I dare not trust to pen and paper and the risksof transit. He will explain to you the steps that I expectyou to pursue. I charge him also with my blessing for mychildren and with the sentiments of my soul for yourself, mydearest sweetheart."

The letter bore the signature, not of "Charles, King," butof "Charles - still king."

"And let him be no longer king," cried the queen. "Let himbe conquered, exiled, proscribed, provided he still lives.Alas! in these days the throne is too dangerous a place forme to wish him to retain it. But my lord, tell me," shecontinued, "hide nothing from me - what is, in truth, theking's position? Is it as hopeless as he thinks?"

"Alas! madame, more hopeless than he thinks. His majesty hasso good a heart that he cannot understand hatred; is soloyal that he does not suspect treason! England is torn intwain by a spirit of disturbance which, I greatly fear,blood alone can exorcise."

"But Lord Montrose," replied the queen, "I have heard of hisgreat and rapid successes of battles gained. I heard it saidthat he was marching to the frontier to join the king."

"Yes, madame; but on the frontier he was met by Lesly; hehad tried victory by means of superhuman undertakings. Nowvictory has abandoned him. Montrose, beaten at Philiphaugh,was obliged to disperse the remains of his army and to fly,disguised as a servant. He is at Bergen, in Norway."

"Heaven preserve him!" said the queen. "It is at least aconsolation to know that some who have so often risked theirlives for us are safe. And now, my lord, that I see howhopeless the position of the king is, tell me with what youare charged on the part of my royal husband."

"Well, then, madame," said De Winter, "the king wishes youto try and discover the dispositions of the king and queentoward him."

"Alas! you know that even now the king is but a child andthe queen a woman weak enough. Here, Monsieur Mazarin iseverything."

"Does he desire to play the part in France that Cromwellplays in England?"

"Oh, no! He is a subtle, conscienceless Italian, who thoughhe very likely dreams of crime, dares not commit it; andunlike Cromwell, who disposes of both Houses, Mazarin hashad the queen to support him in his struggle with theparliament."

"More reason, then, he should protect a king pursued byparliament."

The queen shook her head despairingly.

"If I judge for myself, my lord," she said, "the cardinalwill do nothing, and will even, perhaps, act against us. Thepresence of my daughter and myself in France is alreadyirksome to him; much more so would be that of the king. Mylord," added Henrietta, with a melancholy smile, "it is sadand almost shameful to be obliged to say that we have passedthe winter in the Louvre without money, without linen,almost without bread, and often not rising from bed becausewe wanted fire."

"Horrible!" cried De Winter; "the daughter of Henry IV., andthe wife of King Charles! Wherefore did you not apply, then,madame, to the first person you saw from us?"

"Such is the hospitality shown to a queen by the ministerfrom whom a king demands it."

"But I heard that a marriage between the Prince of Wales andMademoiselle d'Orleans was spoken of," said De Winter.

"Yes, for an instant I hoped it was so. The young peoplefelt a mutual esteem; but the queen, who at first sanctionedtheir affection, changed her mind, and Monsieur, the Ducd'Orleans, who had encouraged the familiarity between them,has forbidden his daughter to think any more about theunion. Oh, my lord!" continued the queen, withoutrestraining her tears, "it is better to fight as the kinghas done, and to die, as perhaps he will, than live inbeggary like me."

"Courage, madame! courage! Do not despair! The interests ofthe French crown, endangered at this moment, are todiscountenance rebellion in a neighboring nation. Mazarin,as a statesman, will understand the politic necessity."

"Are you sure," said the queen doubtfully, "that you havenot been forestalled?"

"By whom?"

"By the Joices, the Prinns, the Cromwells?"

"By a tailor, a coachmaker, a brewer! Ah! I hope, madame,that the cardinal will not enter into negotiations with suchmen!"

"Ah! what is he himself?" asked Madame Henrietta.

"But for the honor of the king - of the queen."

"Well, let us hope he will do something for the sake oftheir honor," said the queen. "A true friend's eloquence isso powerful, my lord, that you have reassured me. Give meyour hand and let us go to the minister; and yet," sheadded, "suppose he should refuse and that the king loses thebattle?"

"His majesty will then take refuge in Holland, where I hearhis highness the Prince of Wales now is."

"And can his majesty count upon many such subjects asyourself for his flight?"

"Alas! no, madame," answered De Winter; "but the case isprovided for and I am come to France to seek allies."

"Allies!" said the queen, shaking her head.

"Madame," replied De Winter, "provided I can find some of mygood old friends of former times I will answer foranything."

"Come then, my lord," said the queen, with the painful doubtthat is felt by those who have suffered much; "come, and mayHeaven hear you."