in diamonds, which, like the order, had been the gift of Henrietta Maria. "Sir," said he to the priest, "I shall keep this cross in my hand till the last moment. You will take it from me when I am dead." He then took his hat from his head, and threw it on the ground. One by one, he undid the buttons of his doublet, took it off, and deposited it by the side of his hat. Then, as it was cold, he asked for his gown, which was brought to him. All the preparations were made with a frightful calmOne would have thought the king was going to

ness.

bed, and not to his coffin.

"Will these be in your way?" he said to the executioner, raising his long locks: "if so, they can be tied up." Charles accompanied these words with a look designed to penetrate the mask of the unknown headsman. His calm, noble gaze forced the man to turn away his head, and the king repeated his question.

"It will do," replied the man in a deep voice, "if you separate them across the neck."

"This block is very low, is there no other to be had?"

"It is the usual block," replied the man in the mask. "Do you think you can behead me with a single blow?" asked the king.

"I hope so," was the reply. There was something so strange in these words that everybody except the king shuddered.

"I do not wish to be taken by surprise," added the king, "I shall kneel down to pray, do not strike then." "When shall I strike?"

"When I shall lay my head on the block, and say 'Remember!'-then strike boldly."

"Gentlemen," said the king to those around him, “I leave you to brave the tempest, and go before you to a kingdom which knows no storms. Farewell." Then he

knelt down, made the sign of the cross, and lowering his face to the planks, as if he would have kissed them, he said in a low tone, in French, "Count de la Fère, are you there?"

"Yes, your majesty," he answered trembling.

"Faithful friend, noble heart!" said the king, "I should not have been rescued. I have addressed my

people, and I have spoken to God; last of all I speak to you. To maintain a cause which I believe sacred, I have lost the throne, and my children the inheritance. A million in gold remains: I buried it in the cellars of Newcastle Keep. You only know that this money exists. Make use of it, then, whenever you think it wil be most useful, for my eldest son's welfare. And now farewell."

"Farewell, saintly, martyred majesty," lisped Athos, chilled with terror.

A moment's silence ensued, and then, in a full, sonorous voice, the king said, "Remember!"

He had scarcely uttered the word when a heavy blow shook the scaffold, and where Athos stood immovable a warm drop fell upon his brow. He reeled back with a shudder, and the same moment the drops became a black torrent. Athos fell on his knees, and remained some moments, as if bewildered or stunned. At last he rose, and taking his handkerchief, steeped it in the blood of the martyred king. Then, as the crowd gradually dispersed, he leaped down, crept from behind the drapery, gliding between two horses, mingled with the crowd, and was the first to arrive at the inn. Having gained his room, he raised his hand to his forehead, and finding his fingers covered with the king's blood, fell down insensible.-Twenty Years After.

DUMAS, ALEXANDRE, son of the preceding, was born at Paris, July 27, 1824; died there, November 27, 1895. His first work was a volume of verse published in his eighteenth year. He ac companied his father to Spain and Africa, and on his return published Les Aventures de Quatre Femmes et d'un Perroquet, which showed no great talent. La Dame aux Camélias (1848), the story of Marie Duplessis, a woman of the town, found an immense number of readers. It was afterward dramatized by its author, and was also reproduced in Verdi's opera of La Traviata. Among his other novels are Le Docteur Servans and Antonine (1849), Trois Hommes Forts (1850), Diane de Lys (1852), La Dame aux Perles, and La Vie a Vingt Ans. Dumas has been more successful as a dramatist than as a novelist, his success being founded upon his power to deal satirically with the follies, vices, and crimes of society. He has dramatized his own work, Diane de Lys, and his father's Joseph Balsamo. He has also written, Le Demi-Monde (1855), La Question d'Argent, Le Père Prodigue (1859), La Femme de Claude (1872), Monsieur Alphonse (1873), Le Fils Naturel (1858), L'Ami des Femmes (1864), Les Idées de Mme. Aubray (1867), La Princesse Georges (1871), L'Étrangère (1877), La Princesse de Bagdad (1881), Denise (1885), and Fran