be alone. He then
asked me to go and dine with him yesterday, as he wanted to talk with me.
I accepted his invitation, and we conversed a long time on political
affair's and the situation of France. You know my sentiments are quite
the reverse of his, so we disputed and wrangled, though we are still very
good friends. But what alarms me is, that at parting Charles pressed my
hand, saying, 'Adieu; to-morrow I set off for Grenoble. In a month you
will hear something of Charles de Labedoyere.'"

These three successive communications appeared to me very extraordinary.
The two first were made to me by persons interested in the event, and the
third by one who dreaded it. They all presented a striking coincidence
with the intrigues at Plombieres a few months before. In the month of
January I determined to mention the business to M. de Blacas, who then
engrossed all credit and all power, and through whose medium alone
anything could reach the sovereign. I need scarcely add that my
intention was merely to mention to him the facts without naming the
individuals from whom I obtained them. After all, however, M. de Blacas
did not receive me, and I only had the honour of speaking to his
secretary, who, if the fact deserve to be recorded, was an abbe named
Fleuriel. This personage, who was an extraordinary specimen of
impertinence and self-conceit, would have been an admirable study for a
comic poet. He had all the dignity belonging to the great secretary of a
great Minister, and, with an air of indifference, he told me that the
Count was not there; but M. de Blacas was there, and I knew it.

Devoted as I was to the cause of the Bourbons, I thought it my duty to
write that very day to M. de Blacas to request an interview; I received
no answer. Two days after I wrote a second letter, in which I informed
M. de Blacas that I had something of the greatest importance to
communicate to him; this letter remained unnoticed like the first.
Unable to account for this strange treatment I again repaired to the
Pavilion de Flore, and requested the Abbe Fleuriel to explain to me if he
could the cause of his master's silence. "Sir," said he, "I received
your two letters, and laid them before the Count; I cannot tell why he
has not sent you an answer; but Monsieur le Comte is so much engaged.
. . . Monsieur le Comte is so overwhelmed with business that"--"Monsieur
le Comte may, perhaps, repent of it. Good morning, sir!"

I thus had personal exper