those dreams destroyed? What know they of these? Nothing, nothing; and in their ignorance are they happy!
A graver page than this, that of history, records the further career which awaited some who have been recalled in this brief chronicle of their earlier time. Power and indulgence harden, corrupt, and assimilate their possessors; and as they drew near and more near to the close, the characters of Louis and of Charles took stronger shades of resemblance. The indolent good-nature of the one lapsed in the most reckless selfishness; and throughout our English annals there is no portion more disgraceful than the latter years of Charles's reign; and assuredly the same censure may be passed on those of Louis,—periods of personal and of national degradation.
But we have now done with all those who have taken part in these pages, save of the two whose fortunes and characters they have endeavoured principally to illustrate; and they have yet a long wild voyage to perform.
A feeling of gladness and freedom long unknown animated them as they rode through the forest; the future was before them—that future of which they now spake together. Together!—the perfect happiness of that one word! An hour's
