“Nor without due consideration,” replied M. de Maupeou, “your majesty may look upon this letter as the basis of a secret plot: as for the duchess, I am of my cousin’s opinion; despise her audacious attempts, but spare not her brother; he alone is the guilty as well as dangerous person.”
The king made no answer, but rose, and crushing the letter in his hand, threw it from him.
“Would,” exclaimed he at last, “that the fiends had those who take such delight in disgusting me with my very existence. Heavens! how justly may I say I despise all men; nor have I a much better opinion of your sex, madame la comtesse, I must warn you.”
“Much obliged, sire,” cried I; “really I was not prepared for such gallantry. It is rather hard that you should quarrel with me because this disagreeable duchess behaves ill! Upon my word it is very unpleasant!”
“Come, come,” said Louis XV, kissing my cheek, “don’t you be a naughty child; if I had not you, where should I turn for consolation amidst the torments by which I am surrounded? Shall I tell you? In the midst of all these perplexing affairs, there are moments in which I fear I may not be promoting the happiness of my people.”
“Your majesty is greatly mistaken,” replied the chancellor; “the nation in general must esteem themselves most happy under your reign; but it will always happen that ill-disposed persons seek to pervert the public opinion, and to lead men’s minds astray. The duchess, when travelling, was the faithful and active agent of her brother. The duke, to secure his stay in the ministry, will eagerly avail himself of every adventitious aid; within your kingdom he seeks the support of the parliaments and philosophers; without, he claims the succour of Germany and Spain. Your majesty is certainly master of your own will, and it would ill become me to point out the path you should tread; but my duty compels me to say, that the duc de Choiseul is the greatest enemy of the royal house: of this he gave me a convincing proof in the case of your august son; and now, if he fancied he should find it more advantageous to have the dauphin for his master—”
“Chancellor of France,” cried Louis, much agitated, “do you know what you are asserting?”
“The truth, sire,” I exclaimed. “The public voice accuses the duc de Choiseul of the death of your son; they declare—”
“How! you, too, madam!” exclaimed the king looking at me fixedly.
“And why not, sire? I am merely repeating what is in every one’s mouth.”