order!" said Danville. "Who has dared to
denounce my wife?"

"You have!" said Lomaque, turning on
him with a grin of contempt. "You!—and
blackguard back in your teeth! You, in
denouncing her brother! Aha! we work hard
in our office: we don't waste time in calling
names—we make discoveries. If Trudaine is
guilty, your wife is implicated in his guilt.
We know it; and we arrest her."

"I resist the arrest," cried Danville. "I
am the authority here. Who opposes me?"

The impassible chief-agent made no answer.
Some new noise in the street struck his quick
ear. He ran to the window, and looked out
eagerly.

''Who opposes me?" reiterated Danville.

"Hark!" exclaimed Lomaque, raising his
hand. "Silence, and listen!"

The heavy, dull tramp of men marching
together became audible as he spoke. Voices
humming low and in unison the Marseillaise
hymn, joined solemnly with the heavy,
regular footfalls. Soon, the flare of torchlight
began to glimmer redder and redder under
the dim starlight sky.

"Do you hear that? Do you see the
advancing torchlight?" cried Lomaque, pointing
exultingly into the street. "Respect to
the national hymn and to the man who
holds in the hollow of his hand the destinies
of all France! Hat off, citizen Danville!
Robespierre is in the street. His body-guard,
the Hard-hitters, are lighting him on his
way to the Jacobin club!—Who shall oppose
you, did you say? Your master and mine;
The man whose signature is at the bottom of
this order—the man who with a scratch of
his pen can send both our heads rolling
together into the sack of the guillotine!
Shall I call to him as he passes the house?
Shall I tell him that Superintendent
Danville resists me in making an arrest? Shall
I? Shall I?" And in the immensity of his
contempt, Lomaque seemed absolutely to rise
in stature, as he thrust the arrest-order under
Danville's eyes, and pointed to the signature
with the head of his stick.

Rose looked round in terror as Lomaque
spoke his last words—looked round, and saw
her husband recoil before the signature on
the arrest-order, as if the guillotine itself had
suddenly arisen before him. Her brother felt
her shrinking back in his arms, and trembled
for the preservation of her self-control if
the terror and suspense of the arrest lasted
any longer.

"Courage, Rose; courage!" he said. "You
have behaved nobly: you must not fail
now. No, no! Not a word more. Not
a word till I am able to think clearly
again, and to decide what is best. Courage,
love: our lives depend on it. Citizen," he
continued, addressing himself to Lomaque,
"proceed with your duty—we are ready."

The heavy marching footsteps outside
were striking louder and louder on the
ground; the chaunting voices were every
moment swelling in volume; the dark street
was flaming again with the brightening torch-
light, as Lomaque, under pretext of giving
Trudaine his hat, came close to him; and,
turning his back towards Danville, whispered,
"I have not forgotten the eve of the wedding
and the bench on the river bank."

Before Trudaine could answer, he had
taken Rose's cloak and hood from one of his
assistants, and was helping her on with it.
Danville, still pale and trembling, advanced
a step when he saw these preparations for
departure, and addressed a word or two to
his wife; but he spoke in low tones, and the
fast-advancing march of feet and sullen low
roar of singing outside, drowned his voice.
An oath burst from his lips, and he struck
his fist, in impotent fury, on a table near
him.

"The seals are set on everything in this
room and in the bedroom," said Magloire,
approaching Lomaque, who nodded, and
signed to him to bring up the other police-
agents at the door.

"Ready," cried Magloire, coming forward
immediately with his men, and raising his
voice to make himself heard, " Where to?"

Robespierre and his Hard-hitters were
passing the house. The smoke of the torch-
light was rolling in at the window; the
tramping footsteps struck heavier and heavier
on the ground; the low, sullen roar of the
Marseillaise was swelling to its loudest, as
Lomaque referred for a moment to his arrest-
order, and then answered—

"To the prison of St. Lazare!"

ELECTRIC LIGHT.

OF the beauty, the brilliancy of the electric
light there is no question. It converts
midnight into noon-day. Although burning
from points not larger than the little finger,
it is distinctly visible at a distance of four
miles at an ordinary elevation. And so
pure and intensely white is it, that all
other flames near it assume a red tinge
from the contrast. We saw this extraordinary
light burning not long ago on a
bright sunny noon, and the bright rays of the
sun which came streaming into the room,
appeared to have no effect upon it; it shone
on as brilliantly as though it were twilight.
A candle was lighted near it, and it was with
difficulty that the tallow flame could be
distinguished. On holding a burning taper
between the electric light and the wall a deep
black shadow was cast on it from the sickly
flame of the taper, so completely was its
illuminating power annihilated.

Electric light is produced by the juxtaposition
of two points of carbon in the shape of
pencils, through which are transmitted streams
of positive and negative electricity. It had
been found that during the powerful
combustion of the carbon points they wore away,