unfortunate, and that his memory has been
overwhelmed by unworthy slanders. From that time forth, I regarded it
as my duty to write his true history, without permitting myself any
illusion as to the success of such an undertaking. I am well aware that
this attempt at rehabilitation is destined to fall into silence and
oblivion. How can the cold, naked Truth fight against the glittering
enchantments of Falsehood?

CHAPTER II

SOMEWHERE about 1650 there lived on his estate, between Compiegne and
Pierrefonds, a wealthy noble, by name Bernard de Montragoux, whose
ancestors had held the most important posts in the kingdom. But he dwelt
far from the Court, in that peaceful obscurity which then veiled
all save that on which the king bestowed his glance. His castle of
Guillettes abounded in valuable furniture, gold and silver ware,
tapestry and embroideries, which he kept in coffers; not that he hid
his treasures for fear of damaging them by use; he was, on the contrary,
generous and magnificent. But in those days, in the country, the nobles
willingly led a very simple life, feeding their people at their own
table, and dancing on Sundays with the girls of the village.

On certain occasions, however, they gave splendid entertainments, which
contrasted with the dullness of everyday life. So it was necessary
that they should hold a good deal of handsome furniture and beautiful
tapestries in reserve. This was the case with Monsieur de Montragoux.

His castle, built in the Gothic period, had all its rudeness. From
without it looked wild and gloomy enough, with the stumps of its
great towers, which had been thrown down at the time of the monarchy's
troubles, in the reign of the late King Louis. Within it offered a much
pleasanter prospect. The rooms were decorated in the Italian taste,
as was the great gallery on the ground floor, loaded with embossed
decorations in high relief, pictures and gilding.

At one end of this gallery there was a closet usually known as "the
little cabinet." This is the only name by which Charles Perrault refers
to it. It is as well to note that it was also called the "Cabinet of the
Unfortunate Princesses," because a Florentine painter had portrayed on
the walls the tragic stories of Dirce, daughter of the Sun, bound by the
sons of Antiope to the horns of a bull, Niobe weeping on Mount Sipylus
for her children, pierced by the divine arrows, and Procris inviting
to her bosom the javelin of Cephal