some forty volumes bearing his name, claiming that though he employed assistants, yet his share in the plan and execution of every work was sufficient to make the work truly his own. He continued to write for the stage, and also published some historical works, among them Louis XIV. et son Siècle, and Florence et les Medicis. In 1846 he accompanied the Duke de Montpensier to Spain, and afterward visited Africa. On his return he built a large theatre for the production of his plays. His theatre did not prosper. The revolution of 1848 involved him in difficulties, and he was also obliged to defend himself in lawsuits with several newspapers with which he had failed to carry out his contracts. The publication of his interesting Mémoires was begun in 1852. He undertook the publication of a daily newspaper and a monthly review, both of which failed after a few numbers. He then continued his Mémoires and romances in the Mousquetaire. He joined Garibaldi in 1860, and wrote a volume entitled Mémoires de Garibaldi. His last years were impoverished. Health and vigor failed. At the beginning of the war in 1870 he was removed from Paris to Dieppe, where he died on December 5th. The works bearing his name are said to number some twelve hundred volumes. He brought out about sixty dramas, only a few of which, among them Mariage sous Louis XV., and Mademoiselle de Belle-Isle, keep their place on the stage. The Count of Monte Cristo, The Three Musketeers, and its sequel, Twenty Years After, Marguerite de Valois, The Watchmaker, the Memoirs of a Physician, and Joseph Balsamo,

are among the most popular of the works bearing

his name.

Many anecdotes have been related concerning Dumas' industry and of his method of composing. A friend of his, being asked whether it was really true that Dumas was about to undertake the management of a theatre, "Of course it is," he replied; "he doesn't know what else to do with himself. Monte Cristo is finished; the Dame de Montsoreau and the Chevalier de Maison Rouge are nearly so; ten volumes of the Vicomte de Bragelone are in the hands of the publisher; his bargain with the Constitutionnel and the Presse binds him to produce only eighteen volumes of romances a year; and the Théâtre Français confines him to five five-act comedies annually; so, you see, he must find some means of employing his leisure time."

"I, generally," said Hans Christian Andersen, "found him in bed, even long after midday, with pen, ink, and paper, writing his newest drama. One day, as I found him thus, he nodded kindly to me, and said: 'Sit down a minute; I have just now a visit from my muse; she will be going directly.' He wrote on; spoke aloud; shouted a vivat, sprang out of bed, and said, The third act is finished!'"

THE EXECUTION OF KING CHARLES I.

Meanwhile, Athos, in his concealment, waited in vain. the signal to recommence his work. Two long hours he waited in terrible inaction. A death-like silence reigned in the room above. At last he determined to discover the cause of this stillness. He crept from his

hole, and stood, hidden by the black drapery, beneath. the scaffold. Peeping out from the drapery, he could see the rows of halberdiers and musketeers round the scaffold, and the first ranks of the populace, swaying and groaning like the sea.

What is the matter, then?" he asked himself, trembling more than the cloth he was holding back. "The people are hurrying on, the soldiers under arms, and among the spectators I see D'Artagnan. What is he waiting for? What is he looking at! Good God! have they let the headsman escape?

Suddenly the dull beating of muffled drums filled the square. The sound of heavy steps was heard above his head. The next moment the very planks of the scaffold creaked with the weight of an advancing procession, and the eager faces of the spectators confirmed what a last hope at the bottom of his heart had prevented his believing till then. At the same moment a well-known voice above him pronounced these words: "Colonel, I wish to speak to the people."

Athos shuddered from head to foot. It was the king speaking on the scaffold. By his side stood a man wearing a mask, and carrying an axe in his hand, which he afterward laid on the block. The sight of the mask excited a great amount of curiosity in the people, the foremost of whom strained their eyes to discover who it could be. But they could discern nothing but a man of middle height dressed in black, apparently past middle age, for the end of a gray beard peeped out from the bottom of the mask which concealed his features. The king's request had undoubtedly been acceded to by an affirmative sign, for, in firm, sonorous accents, which vibrated in the depths of Athos' heart, the king began his speech, explaining his conduct, and counselling them for the welfare of England. He was interrupted by the noise of the axe grating on the block.

"Do not touch the axe," said the king, and resumed his speech. At the end of his speech, the king looked tenderly round upon the people. Then, unfastening the diamond ornament which the queen had sent him, he placed it in the hands of the priest who accompanied Juxon. Then he drew from his breast a little cross set