He felt he had won Cyrène.
He mounted the staircase to his apartment as if his feet were winged. The quarters were deserted. The company had already mustered and marched to the review ground, a levelled field adjoining the boulevarded rampart, surrounded with willow trees and known as the Champ-de-Mars. Germain, as he approached it, riding with the Marshal and the Prince, felt as he had not since he had first put on the uniform of the Bodyguard. His spirit seemed to prance with joy like the horse beneath him. He had now that security, the want of which had caused him such an ocean of misery; he felt that his enemies were now conquered, and that Cyrène was at last his.
Thus they rode to the Champ, where he could see the various regiments, drawn up at the "attention," in a long, brilliant line, their arms shining in the sun, the two companies of the Bodyguard mounted, in their centre, with their magnificent standards and gorgeously arrayed bands. It was a thrilling and beautiful sight.
When they came to the edge of the Champ, the horses of the Marshal and his staff quickened pace, and soon, galloping down the field, they passed in front of the whole division, every eye both of soldiers and spectators levelled towards them. Lecour was the object of intense interest. At this conspicuous moment the Marshal called him to his side and entrusted him with a general order to pass to the commanders of the regiments.
Germain galloped first to the company of Noailles and passed the order with a grave salute to the Prince, who had taken his position in front of it as Colonel. As he did so, the enthusiasm of his companions got the better of their discipline, and they broke into a loud, prolonged cry of "Vive de Lincy!" The members of the company of Villeroy had, as a body, always felt more or less contrary in the affair to their companion de Léry, and there was a party who had strongly favoured Germain. The proof, now so clear, that Louis' accusations had been rejected, suddenly converted the rest to Lecour's side and an enthusiasm similar to that of his own company broke out in their ranks too, resulting in a continuation of the cry, "Vive de Lincy!" This extraordinary scene excited the other troops. The whole line broke out again and again into the repeated cry of, "Vive de Lincy!" while Germain rode rapidly along. The crowd of spectators took it up, and added tremendous shouts of approbation. Nor did the cry end with the parade. He heard it everywhere; at mess-table it was the greeting as he entered, the response to numerous toasts to his health, and the last sound he heard as he sank to sleep at night.
The feelings of de Léry were very different. The shout was to him his social doom. He stood his ground and executed his duty without an external sign, but his heart withered when his comrades there and then commenced to shun him and drive him into Coventry. No protestations, no statements that he could make, would, he knew, have been of any avail; so he spared himself the trouble. Withdrawing entirely into a proud reserve, he was soon banished from the regiment and from society, and driven to find a refuge over the ocean in Canada, where, hidden from the eyes of European criticism, he entered upon a new career.
The Marquis de Lotbinière heard of the loss of the documents first by a letter from de Villerai. On the same day he received the following from the Count de Vaudreuil—
"At Versailles, the 13th February, 1788.
"I should always be well disposed, sir, to oblige persons who, like Monsieur de Léry, might have aroused my interest; but it is impossible for me to become the accuser of anybody whatsoever. Such a maxim is absolutely opposed to all my principles and to the invariable law which I have made for myself and from which I cannot depart. It is the place of the Prince de Poix to examine the candidates who present themselves for admission to the Bodyguard; that duty is entirely foreign to me. Be convinced of all the regret I feel in being unable, in this case, to do what would be agreeable to you, and accept fresh assurances of the sincere attachment with which I have the honour to be, sir,
"Your very humble and obedient servant,
"The Count De Vaudreuil."