crown which, perhaps, since the epoch of the Cæsars, had ever graced a mortal's brow:

"Such scorn to feel, was well-'twas wrong

To bear it ever on thy lip and eye,"

are the words he addressed to Napoleon, when imputing his misfortunes to his contempt of

man.

CHAPTER II.

THE silence which followed upon the Count d'Artois leaving the chamber having been broken, a debate arose respecting the claims he had put forth.

During this discussion, Louis quitted the chamber for a few moments; and then returning, resumed his place, and sate, listening to what was going forward. This occupied a considerable space of time; and it was in a moment when the Abbot of St. Bertin was defending his friend's cause with all that eloquence which springs from a warm conviction of the truth and reasonableness of what we assert, that the prothonotary, who stood behind the throne, heard his name gently whispered, and turning round,

perceived himself beckoned to by some one who stood at the door-way.

Bertrand, for so was the Prothonotary named, immediately left the Council Hall; and following the one who had called him, into the anti-chamber, remained there in conversation for some minutes; then returning, resumed his place behind the King, and bending over, whispered something to him in so low a tone of voice as not to be overheard by any.

During all this time, Philip's countenance underwent various changes. At first it wore that gravity of expression which is usual to those who listen attentively to a detail, then it evinced surprise and amazement, doubt and anger. At length the tale being ended, turning himself round, and looking on the one who had addressed him, he exclaimed,—

"Who is this woman?-whence cometh she?" "Her name, most gracious Sire," replied the Prothonotary, "is Devion. She is a native of Bethune, in Artois, and is well-known as a most crafty imitator of writing."

"And how camest thou by all this, Bertrand?" inquired the King.

"There was one, Sire, who did but just beckon me into the outer hall, and tell me all the matter as I have related it to your Grace. The man still waits, and doth profess him willing to repeat his tale to the Council now assembled."

Go, then, bid him enter; we will hear this from his own mouth.-No, tarry, Bertrand! First relate this strange story to the Council."

Obeying the King's command, the Prothonotary then repeated to the assembly the story he had just told Philip, and which amounted to this—that a man, called Martin, had brought him information, that a certain woman, Devion by name, and known to be most skilled in the art of writing, had been employed by the Count of Artois, to forge the signatures he pretended to have discovered in the Abbey of St. Bertin.

It would cause useless delay of time to enter minutely into this investigation, and detail all the questions which were put to this man, and

the answers which he gave to them; yet, it is very necessary the reader should be made acquainted with their general result, and I shall, therefore, in as few words as the subject permits, attempt to put him in possession of it.

Devion was a poor woman, who, about twelve or fourteen months previous to the present epoch, had left her own country, and come to Paris, for the purpose of seeking that maintenance which she could not obtain at home. Martin having, after she had resided some months at Paris, by some accident become acquainted with her, an intimacy had grown up between them; and he, knowing her skill in writing, counselled her to address the Count of Artois, who, being of the same province as she, would probably either himself give her employment, or recommend her where she might procure it.

Her application to the Count had been successful; he had questioned her upon her capacity in her art, and being satisfied on that point, given her some papers, which he was desirous of having written in a better and more clerkly hand than his secretaries could do.