"Are you tired?"

"No; I am seldom tired."

"Remain with the lady, then, until her father comes back."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I have to go, and she might need a protector."

The stranger said nothing, but he nodded, and throwing off his black
coat, set to work vigorously rubbing down his travel-stained horse.



CHAPTER II.


A MONARCH IN DESHABILLE.

It was the morning after the guardsman had returned to his duties.
Eight o'clock had struck on the great clock of Versailles, and it was
almost time for the monarch to rise. Through all the long corridors and
frescoed passages of the monster palace there was a subdued hum and
rustle, with a low muffled stir of preparation, for the rising of the
king was a great state function in which many had a part to play.
A servant with a steaming silver saucer hurried past, bearing it to
Monsieur de St. Quentin, the state barber. Others, with clothes thrown
over their arms, bustled down the passage which led to the ante-chamber.
The knot of guardsmen in their gorgeous blue and silver coats