The rumour of her beauty and her
sweetness had come to the ears of the Regent, and strong forces were at
work to bring her to his arms. Madame de Tencin was the leader in this
base conspiracy, with the power of the Romish Church at her back; for
with the fair Circassian high in the Regent's favour and a pliant tool
in their hands, the Jesuits' influence at Court would be greatly
strengthened. Dubois was won over to the unholy alliance; and the Due's
_maitresse en titre_ was bribed, not only to withdraw all opposition to
her proposed rival, but to arrange a meeting between the Regent and the
victim.

Success seemed to be assured. Mademoiselle Aisse was to exchange slavery
to her late owner for an equally odious place in the harem of the ruler
of France. Her tears and entreaties were all in vain; when she begged on
her knees to be allowed to retire to a convent Madame de Feriol turned
her back on her. Her only hope of rescue now lay in the Regent himself;
and to him she pleaded her cause with such pathetic eloquence that he
not only allowed her to depart in peace, but with words of sympathy and
promises of his protection in the pure and noble sense of the word.

Thus by the chivalry of the most dissolute man of his age the Circassian
slave-girl was rescued from a life which to her would have been worse
than death--to spend her remaining years, happy in the love of an honest
man, the Chevalier d'Aydie, until death claimed her while she still
possessed the beauty which had been at once her glory and her inevitable
shame.

* * * * *

The close of the Regent's mis-spent life came with tragic suddenness.
Worn out with excesses, while still young in years, his doctors had
warned him that death might come to him any day; but with the
light-heartedness that was his to the last, he laughed at their gloomy
forebodings and refused to take the least precautions to safeguard his
health. Two days before the end came he declined point-blank to be bled
in order to avert a threatened attack of apoplexy. "Let it come if it
will," he said, with a laugh. "I do not fear death; and if it comes
quickly, so much the better!"

On the evening of 2nd December, 1720, he was chatting gaily to the young
Duchesse de Falari, when he suddenly turned to her and asked: "Do you
think there is any hell--or Paradise?" "Of course I do," answered the
Duchesse. "Then are you not afraid to lead the life you do?" "Well,"
repli