beauty. They were worthy representatives of their race.

The Royal Family, headed by Charles X., was present at this fete,
whereat pre-eminence of every kind was gathered together and every class
represented, and where cordiality seemed universal. After the entrance
of the two sets of dancers in costume, the King went out to walk on the
terrace which runs along the top of the Galerie d'Orleans. The night was
so warm and lovely that the ladies were walking about in their low
gowns, and the dazzling illuminations made it as bright as day. The
courtyard of the Palais-Royal was closed, but an immense crowd filled
the gardens, trying to see as much as possible of the gay doings. I was
running in front of Charles X. as he walked along, and I saw his tall
form advance to the parapet of the terrace on the garden side, with that
truly royal air he had about him. He waved his hand several times in
greeting to the crowd, which at that short distance, and under that
brilliant light, must have recognized him perfectly, not by his features
only, but by his full uniform of Colonel-General of the Guard, and also
by the retinue that followed him. But there was no shout of "Vive le
Roi!" nor any hostile one either. The surging crowd only seemed to be
rather more stirred, and the same uproar rose from it as one may hear on
a firework night, when some fine set-piece is set alight. One last wave
of the hand, with a "Bonjour, mon peuple!" which the King spoke half in
jest and half in earnest, and Charles X. departed. I was never to see
him again. Immediately afterwards, or nearly so, the crowd laid hands on
the chairs in the garden, piled them up on the grass plots where the
midday gun stood, and set them on fire. The troops had to be called out
to clear the garden, and that first scene of public not, so new to me,
filled me with astonishment and rage as well.

Shortly after this fete came the taking of Algiers--a Proof of the