that those about her might be
too ready to tell her; otherwise," said she, shrugging her shoulders,
"she, and all the others, are told that he is a Polish nobleman, a
relation of the Queen, who has apartments in the castle." This story was
contrived on account of the cordon bleu, which the King has not always
time to lay aside, because, to do that, he must change his coat, and in
order to account for his having a lodging in the castle so near the King.
There were two little rooms by the side of the chapel, whither the King
retired from his apartment, without being seen by anybody but a sentinel,
who had his orders, and who did not know who passed through those rooms.
The King sometimes went to the Parc-aux-cerfs, or received those young
ladies in the apartments I have mentioned.

I must here interrupt my narrative, to relate a singular adventure, which
is only known to six or seven persons, masters or valets. At the time of
the attempt to assassinate the King, a young girl, whom he had seen
several times, and for whom he had manifested more tenderness than for
most, was distracted at this horrible event. The Mother-Abbess of the
Parc-aux-cerfs perceived her extraordinary grief, and managed so as to
make her confess that she knew the Polish Count was the King of France.
She confessed that she had taken from his pocket two letters, one of
which was from the King of Spain, the other from the Abbe de Brogue. This
was discovered afterwards, for neither she nor the Mother-Abbess knew the
names of the writers. The girl was scolded, and M. Lebel, first valet de
chambre, who had the management of all these affairs, was called; he took
the letters, and carried them to the King, who was very much embarrassed
in what manner to meet a person so well informed of his condition. The
girl in question, having perceived that the King came secretly to see her
companion, while she was neglected, watched his arrival, and, at the
moment he entered with the Abbess, who was about to withdraw, she rushed
distractedly into the room where her rival was. She immediately threw
herself at the King's feet. "Yes," said she, "you are King of all
France; but that would be nothing to me if you were not also monarch of
my heart: do not forsake me, my beloved sovereign; I was nearly mad when
your life was attempted!" The Mother-Abbess cried out, "You are mad
now." The King embraced her, which appeared to restore her to
tranquility. They succeeded i