by him to me of
this brilliant portion of his noble race.

Neither the prince de Conde, whom I knew well, nor the prince de la
Marche, entertained much regard for their relations; and they had always
some spiteful story in store respecting the posterity of Louis XIII.
There is one historical fact which has never been cleared up.

One day I was conversing with the comte de la Marche upon the disputes
concerning the parliaments, and expressing my fear, that, if driven to
desperate measures, the people would rise in open rebellion in favor of
the magistracy. "They would be still more clamourous," replied he, "if
they knew all I could tell them."

"And what do you know more than myself?'" asked I; "your highness alarms
me by speaking thus."

"Amongst events now passed and gone is one that would materially affect
the public peace, if known."

"You must explain yourself, my lord," said I. He refused; but I
persisted in pressing the matter with so much earnestness, that at last
he said, in a low voice,

"Did you ever hear of the man who wore the iron mask?"

"Yes, certainly," replied I, "who was he?"

"A great prince, and a most unfortunate man."

"But who was he really?"

"In the eyes of the law the crown of France should have been his; but in
the conscientious view of things he certainly had no claim."

The comte de la Marche stopped here; and, as I was not very deeply read
in history, I did not exactly comprehend the distinction he had just
made. I had frequently heard talk of the "Iron Mask," whom people
reported to be either allied to, or sprung from, the royal family; but
all these particulars were confused in my memory. However, I was much
struck with the conversation I had had with the comte de la Marche; and
when next the conversation fell on this mysterious personage, I asked
the duc de Richelieu what he thought of him.

"Upon my honor," replied he, "I never could find out who he really was;
not that I did not try," added he, assuming an air of modest vanity,
which well became his green old age. "I had a mistress of tolerably high
birth, mademoiselle d'Orleans, as indeed I had the honor of having the
princesses, her august sisters. However, the former, known under the
name of mademoiselle de Charollais, was dying to do some act of kindness
that should be agreeable to me. Well, I requested she would obtain from
the regent, her father, the solution of the secret relative to the 'Iron
Mask.' She used ever