MARIE ANTOINETTE'S TALISMAN 63
the head. At least, I have one faithful friend {
left. "
Zamara lifted his dark eyes to the face she bent over him--they were full of tears.
"There, there ! we must not be children, " she said, giving the little figure a gentle push. " Go and order the horse to be saddled."
The dwarf disappeared, and instantly the door was bolted after him. When he came back, announcing himself with a respectful knock, a groom, undersized , and with the air of one who had at some period of his life been a lady's page, stood upon the threshold.
"Is the passage clear ? Will no one see me go out?"
"Everything is clear."
Zamara glided away as he spoke, and the groom followed. Through a back door, only used by servants, across a yard strewn with worn-out vehicles, empty boxes, broken bottles, and refuse lumber, he led the way into the stables, where a horse stood caparisoned for the road.
The groom lifted himself to the saddle, and bending down, whispered,
"No sleep; watch and listen till I come back."
Zamara smiled till all his white teeth shone again ; then laying a tiny hand on his bosom, he bent low, muttering,
"Did Zamara ever sleep when his mistress was absent?"
These words were lost in the clatter of hoofs, as horse and rider passed out of the stable. There was nothing. about this groom to draw particular attention; he might have belonged to any nobleman at this time in Versailles, and thus have passed unquestioned. A few turned to look at him as his horse trotted leisurely through the town, wondering to whom he be- longed; but no one became really interested, and he passed away into the country unmolested.
Some three or four miles along the road to Paris he saw two persons on horseback just be- fore him—a man and a woman, who seemed to be urging their unwilling steeds to unusual exertion.
The groom touched his beast with the spur, aad in a few minutes brought himself alongside of the travelers.
Marguerite, when she saw a stranger so near, drew the hood of dark silk over her face, and made a fresh effort to urge her horse forward. Monsieur Jaque turned in his saddls, looked keenly at the new comer, and once more gave his attention to the road.
“Rough roads,” observed the groom, address- ing Jaque.
"Very!" answered Jaque, glancing at Marguerite with a sense of relief, as he saw that the hood had been drawn over her beautiful hair, and almost concealed her face.
"Going toward Paris ?" continued the groom.
"Yes," was the laconic reply.
"Then, perhaps, you will not take it amiss if I offer to bear you company in these disturbed times ; there is safety in numbers."
"We travel but slowly," answered Jaque, little pleased with the proposal, for every moment that he spent alone with Marguerite was a grain of gold to him. "You seem better mounted than we are, and will find it hard to keep to our dull pace."
"I think not; these rough roads fret my poor beast all the more because of his spirit; besides, the country between Versailles and Paris is not always free from highwaymen. I trust you have nothing very precious about you?”
Marguerite raised a hand to her bosom and gave the groom a terrified glance from under her hood. The most precious thing on earth lay close to her heart-that order for her father's release.
Jaque gave no answer to this adroit question, but allowed the groom to talk on while he listened in sullen silence.
After a few more efforts to be sociable and enter into conversation, the groom rode on, but now and then took a sweeping circuit back, keeping the two travelers in sight until they entered Paris. After that, he followed them at a distance, saw them dismount, and took note of the residence in which they disappeared. This object attained, the groom turned his horse and rode toward that portion of the city in which the Bastile stood, dark, grim, and terrible to look upon.
CHAPTER XII.
“Mamma! Mamma! I have come! He is saved!”
A woman started up, still and white as o ghost, from the dim shadows’ that had settled around her. She would not believe the joyful news. The very sound of a voice cheerful and ringing as that which startled the stillness of the room, had a thrill of mockery for her. She had been so long used to disappointment that joy fell away from her unrecognized.
“Mamma! dear mamma! do you understand? I have spoken to the queen, the beautiful queen, and the king; so kind, so gentle! Oh, mamma! his goodness is unspeakable! Tomorrow, one more night, and you will see my father!”
