t, and where justice is invoked
in vain when the criminal is powerful.

I have said that this intrigue, as it is styled by courtesy in our
fashionable circles, amused one part of the Parisians; and I believe the
word 'amuse' is not improperly employed in this instance. At a dozen
parties where I have been since, this unfortunate adventure has always
been an object of conversation, of witticisms, but not of blame, except
at Madame Fouche's, where Madame Leboure was very much blamed indeed for
having been so overnice, and foolishly scrupulous.

Another intrigue of His Imperial Highness, which did not, indeed, end
tragically, was related last night, at the tea-party of Madame Recamier.
A man of the name of Deroux had lately been condemned by our criminal
tribunal, for forging bills of exchange, to stand in the pillory six
hours, and, after being marked with a hot iron on his shoulders, to work
in the galleys for twenty years. His daughter, a young girl under
fifteen, who lived with her grandmother (having lost her mother), went,
accompanied by the old lady, and presented a petition to Louis, in favour
of her father. Her youth and modesty, more than her beauty, inspired the
unprincipled libertine with a desire of ruining innocence, under the
colour of clemency to guilt. He ordered her to call on his chamberlain,
Darinsson, in an hour, and she should obtain an answer. There, either
seduced by paternal affection, intimidated by threats, or imposed upon by
delusive and engaging promises, she exchanged her virtue for an order of
release for her parent; and so satisfied was Louis with his bargain that
he added her to the number of his regular mistresses.

As soon as Deroux had recovered his liberty, he visited his daughter in
her new situation, where he saw an order of Louis, on the Imperial
Treasury, for twelve thousand livres--destined to pay the upholsterer who
had furnished her apartment. This gave him, no doubt, the idea of making
the Prince pay a higher value for his child, and he forged another order
for sixty thousand livres--so closely resembling it that it was without
suspicion acquitted by the Imperial Treasurer. Possessing this money, he
fabricated a pass, in the name of Louis, as a courier carrying despatches
to the Emperor in Germany, with which he set out, and arrived safe on the
other side of the Rhine. His forgeries were only discovered after he had
written a letter from Frankfort to Louis, acquitting h