Harmand repeats the explanation of this persistent silence which had been furnished by Laurent. He ignores the fact that the Dauphin had talked with the Simons, had been interviewed by Barras, and had been heard to speak on several other occasions.

Assuredly, Harmand and his colleagues—his narrative allows it to be seen on every page—very soon realized that they were not in the presence of the Dauphin. This is proved by the fact that, despite the very distinct terms of the resolution of the Committee entrusting them with this mission, and the object of which was to dispel the rumours current in Paris, “they decided they would make no public report, but would confine themselves to a secret record of their experience to the Committee itself.”

However natural and intelligible all this may have been to those who knew what was in the mind of the Convention and the exigencies of the situation at this period, to Laurent it was a matter of stupefaction. Barras had sent him no warning, and his position was getting more and more difficult, for his colleague, who had, of course, to be taken into his confidence, was beginning to be nervous about participating any further in the intrigue, and might betray him any day. At last he loses patience, and expresses himself as follows to his friend the unknown general:—

“I have just received your letter. Alas, your request is impossible. It was easy enough to get the ‘victim’ upstairs, but to get him down again is for the moment impossible, for so sharp a watch is being kept and I am afraid of being betrayed. The Committee of Public Safety sent those monsters Matthieu and Reverchon, as you know, to establish the fact that our mute is really the son of Louis XVI. General, what does it all mean? I don’t know what to make of B——’s conduct. He talks now of getting rid of our mute and replacing him by another boy who is ill. Were you aware of this? Is it not a trap of some kind. I am getting very much alarmed, for great care is being taken not to let any one into the prison of our mute, lest the substitution should become known, for if any one examined him they would discover that he was deaf from birth, and in consequence naturally mute. But to substitute some one else for him! The new substitute will talk, and will do both for our half-rescued P—— and for myself with him. Please send back our messenger at once with your written reply.

“The Temple Tower, February 5, 1795.”

Let us note the date of this letter—February 5. Therefore the visit referred to must have taken place before February 5. Now, Eckard, one of the earliest biographers of the Dauphin, having in the first edition of his book made the date December 2, 1794, altered it afterwards to February 13, 1795. De Beauchesne makes it February 27. Chantelauze, February 26.

On referring to the original documents at our disposal, however, we find that Laurent’s letter is borne out. In his book, Le dernier roi legitime de France, M. Provins shows that the visit must have taken place between November 5, 1794, and January 4, 1795, as it was only during this period that the three delegates were all members of the Committee. A recent discovery of documents in the National Archives establishes the fact that it took place on December 19, 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[66] G. Lenôtre, Vielles Maisons, Vieux Papiers, 2nd series.

[67] A curious plan of this house is to be found at the Bibliothèque Nationale, Print Department, Paris topography, the Madeleine quarter.