Twice-a-week plain dealer. (Cresco, Howard County, Iowa) 1895-1913, 1898-10-11
CHAPTER TX.
THE MAsTER-GENERAL.

IN the labyrinth OF narrow streets
crooked roads and blind alleys behind
the Palais de Justice, where the houses
are so crowded that they seem to climb
one over the other in their efforts to
reach higher and higher in their search
for air, Is small street called the Rue
des Deux Mondes. 1t had this advan-
tage that 1t was wider than most of the
other roads in that part of Paris, and
opened out abruptly on to the river
face, very nearly opposite the upper
portion Of the Pont Neuf, then under
course of construction, but not to be
finished for some years later. At the
corner of the street, and overlooking
the river, the Pont Neuf, the Passeur
aux Vaches, with a glimpse of the
DUAL Malaquais and the mansions Of
the Faubourg st. German was house
OF modern size, kept and owned by a
Maitre Pantin, who was engaged NOM
lnally in some legal business in the
courts of the city.
1t was this house of Maitre Pantin, it
will be remembered, that had been rec
commended to me as q lodging by Palm,
who told me of the owners occupation,
and when demurred on account of my
religious convictions the Huguenot
pointed out that had to do things In
Paris which required safe retreat, and
that he could vouch for the honesty and
discretion of Pantin. l admitted that
his arguments were reasonable, and re-
solved to take advantage of his recon-
mendation.
We rode into Paris by the ST. Ger
mains gate, and l was Immediately
struck by the aspect of gloom that the
city wore. Most of the shops were in
deed open, but there appeared to be no
business doing, and, instead of men
hurrying backward and forward, the
streets were filled with groups of peo-
pie evidently engaged in discussing
some affair of the utmost moment.
Every third or fourth man wore black
scarf over his right arm, and the bells
OF the churches were tolling dismally
for the dead. From St. German des
Pres, from St. SEVERN, from the airy
spire of Ste Chapelle, they called out
mournfully, and above them all, drown
ing the distant voices of st. Germain
IAuxerrois, st. Jacques de la Boucherie,
st. Antoine and others less known to
fame pealed out the solemn notes of the
bourbon of Notre Dame.
Near the Pre-auX-clercs hundreds of
long-robed students were assembled
md the windows of many of the great
houses, including the Logis de Nevers,
were hung with black. 1t was strange
to see Paris, always SO bright and gay,
with this solemn air upon it. No notice
was taken of us as we rode on, the
knots of people merely moving aside to
let us pass, and answering Jacques
cheerful "good-day'' with silent inoli-
nation of the head or chill indiffer-
ence.
"Pardieu, monsieur" exclaimed
Jacques, as we turned up the Rue de
Ia Harpe, hard by the hotel de Cluny,
"one would think the king himself
were dead, these gentry pull such long
faces" My servants chance observa-
ton sent sudden shock through me.
What If Henry was dead! What If
had got only one thread of the plot that
was weaving at Anet? 1 did not an
swerJacques, but observing Capuchin
priest advancing in my direction, i
refined in Couronne, and giving him the
day, asked what it was that had be-
fallen the city. He looked up at me in
slight surprise, and then observing
my travel-stained appearance, replied:
Il see you are stranger, sir; but
haveyou not heard the news?-it should
have gone far by this"
II have not, as you see-but what ia
II? Surely the king is not dead?"
"God forbid" he answered, "no-not
the king, but she, who in a few weeks
would have been the queenSof France"
"The duchess de Beaufort
Exactly"
II knew that; but you don't mean
TO say that the city is in mourning for
the mistress of the king"
mo, my son-not for the mistress of
the king, as you call her, but for the
open hand and the generous heart, for
the kindly soul that never turned from
suffering or from sorrow-for Mag
dalen bountiful, and, let US hope, Mag
dalen repentant.'
Palms directions were clear. and
after crossing the pont st. Michel, a
wooden bridge, we kept to the south of
Ste Chapelle, and then, after many a
twist and turn, found ourselves in the
Rue des Deux Mondes, before the doors
of Pantin's house.
The master himself answered my
knock and stood in the doorway, a
small, wizened figure. looking at us
cautiously from gray eyes. Swallowed
by bushy white brows.
Good day, monsieur. What is it
can do for your"
"You are Maitre PAINTING"
cat your service"
Sand I am the Chevaler d'Auriac. /