o be silent, and came to me. After relating
the conversation, he added, "Do not appear at all dejected; the king
would not then visit you lest he should find you out of temper. Were I
you I should write to him; a word of peace would set him at ease."

I approved this advice, and instantly penned the following letter:--

"Sire--They tell me that your majesty has been tormented on my account.
It is a treason of which I alone could believe myself capable. But why
should I complain? You have done so much for me that I ought to
esteem myself happy: your august friendship consoles me thro' all my
annoyances. Be assured that henceforth I shall pout no more; I will be
the best sheep in the world, relying on my shepherd for not having my
fleece cut too closely; for after all I think I am the petted ewe, etc."

A short time afterwards a page brought me a splendid box of _bonbons_
with a pair of ruby ear-rings surrounded with diamonds, and this short
billet:--

"Yes, assuredly you are my pet ewe, and always shall be. The shepherd
has a strong crook with which he will drive away those who would injure
you. Rely on your shepherd for the care of your tranquillity, and the
peace of your future life."

In the evening the king visited me. He was embarrassed, but I set him at
ease by showing him a laughing countenance, talking only of his present,
which I had in my ears, and shaking my head about to keep the drops in
motion, which sparkled with great brilliancy. He was pleased at this,
and did not leave me all the evening. In the morning we were the best
friends in the world.

Some days elapsed, when comte Jean came to me, bringing two infamous
articles which had appeared in the "_Nouvelles a la Main_," and were
directed against me. They were atrocious and deeply chagrined me: I
placed them on the mantel-piece, where all who came in could see them.
The duc de Duras read them, and said, "Conceal these atrocities from the
king."

"No," was my reply, "I wish him to read them, that he may know how his
affections are respected, and how the police of Paris are employed in
doing their duty to the throne."

These last words annoyed M. de Duras, between whom and M. de Sartines
there was a connection: the duke was indebted to the lieutenant-general
of police for the special surveillance which he kept over a young girl
of whom he, the duc de Duras, was foolishly enamoured. Trembling for
his _dear friend_ M. de Sartines, he wrote to him in