Philippe-Égalité had wearied Robespierre with his petitions to be released, and that worthy remarked to Fouquier-Tinville—
“It seems that Égalité is tired of the fish of Marseilles that Milon appreciated so much. He wants to come to Paris.”
“Why prevent his coming back? his affair will be settled all the sooner,” was the answer. [132]
It was said that a locksmith, who was executed on the same day, would not get into the same cart with him, fearing that he “might be thought the accomplice of such a man.”
Mme. de Genlis put Mademoiselle d’Orléans into mourning, telling her that it was for the Queen, which she must of course wear, and it was some time before she discovered the truth.
She had written to ask a refuge of her uncle, the Duke of Modena, who sent her some money, but said political reasons prevented his receiving her in his duchy. The poor child, naturally merry and high-spirited, had grown quiet and sad, though she bore without complaining the hardships of her lot.
At last they heard that the Princesse de Conti was living near Fribourg, and it was arranged that she should take charge of her niece. She wrote an affectionate letter, and sent the Comtesse de Saint-Maurice-de-Pont to Bremgarten to fetch her.
Mme. de Genlis, dreading the parting, shut herself up in her room on the morning of her departure, leaving a message that she had gone out for the day to avoid that grief. She had not told her the night before that the time had come for their separation.
It was a great sorrow to them both, but was inevitable. Mademoiselle d’Orléans was rightly placed in the care of her own family, and the wandering, adventurous life led from this time by Mme. de Genlis was not desirable for the young princess.