was aimed at by one of the insurgents, when a young man, with a long
beard, whom I have often seen at the opera, and who was leading the
attack, threw up the man's gun, and saved me.' So my adorer was
evidently a republican! In 1831, after I came to lodge in this house,
I found him, one day, leaning with his back against the wall of it; he
seemed pleased with my disasters; possibly he may have thought they
drew us nearer together. But after the affair of Saint-Merri I saw him
no more; he was killed there. The evening before the funeral of
General Lamarque, I had gone out on foot with my son, and my
republican accompanied us, sometimes behind, sometimes in front, from
the Madeleine to the Passage des Panoramas, where I was going."

"Is that all?" asked the marquise.

"Yes, all," replied the princess. "Except that on the morning
Saint-Merri was taken, a gamin came here and insisted on seeing me. He
gave me a letter, written on common paper, signed by my republican."

"Show it to me," said the marquise.

"No, my dear. Love was too great and too sacred in the heart of that
man to let me violate its secrets. The letter, short and terrible,
still stirs my soul when I think of it. That dead man gives me more
emotions than all the living men I ever coquetted with; he constantly
recurs to my mind."

"What was his name?" asked the marquise.

"Oh! a very common one: Michel Chrestien."