rshal of France,
asks to accompany me into Flanders as aide-de-camp. Purge his mind of
such ideas, and give him to understand that his part is played out with
me."

"What business is it of mine," I asked with vivacity, "to teach M. de
Lauzun how to behave? Let Madame de Maintenon charge herself with these
homilies; she is in office, and I am there no longer."

These words troubled the King; he said to me:

"You will do well to go to Bourbon until my return from Flanders."

He left on the following day, and the same day I took my departure. I
went to spend a week at my little convent of Saint Joseph, where the
ladies, who thought I was still in favour, received me with marks of
attention and their accustomed respect. On the third day, the prioress,
announcing herself by my second waiting-woman, came to present me with a
kind of petition or prayer, which, I confess, surprised me greatly, as I
had never commissioned any one to practise severity in my name.

A man, detained at the Bastille for the last twelve years, implored me in
this document to have compassion on his sufferings, and to give orders
which would strike off his chains and irons.

"My intention," he said, "was not, madame, to offend or harm you. Artists
are somewhat feather-headed, and I was then only twenty." This petition
was signed "Hathelin, prisoner of State." I had my horses put in my
carriage at once, and betook myself to the chateau of the Bastille, the
Governor of which I knew.

When I set foot in this formidable fortress, in spite of myself I
experienced a thrill of terror.

The attentions of public men are a thermometer, which, instead of our own
notions, is very capable of letting us know the just degree of our
favour. The Governor of the Bastille, some months before, would have
saluted me with his artillery; perhaps he still received me with a
certain ceremony, but without putting any ardour into his politeness, or
drawing too much upon himself. In such circumstances one must see
without regarding these insults of meanness, and, by a contrivance of
distraction, escape from vile affronts. The object of my expedition
being explained, the Governor found on his register that poor Hathelin,
aged thirty-two to thirty-four years, was an engraver by profession. The
lieutenant-general of police had arrested him long ago for a comic or
satirical engraving on the subject of M. le Marquis de Montespan and the
King.

I desired to see Hathel