Montjoie to the Duke of Chartres, "there is
no alternative but to wander in the mountains, not sojourning long in
any place, but pursuing this life of sorrow until the circumstances
of your country shall assume a more favorable aspect. If fortune
shall prove propitious, your wanderings will be an Odyssey, the
details of which will one day be collected with avidity."

General Dumouriez, who was also wandering in obscurity and exile, at
this time wrote to General Montesquieu, who was a friend of the Duke
of Chartres, and a gentleman possessed of much influence and power in
Switzerland:

"Embrace for me our excellent young friend. What you are
doing to serve him is worthy of you. Let him derive
instruction and strength from his adversity. This frenzy
will pass away, and then he will find his place. Induce him
to make a circumstantial diary of his travels. It will be
curious to see the diary of a Bourbon treating of other
subjects than the chase, women, and the table. I am
convinced that this work, which he will one day produce,
will serve as a certificate for life, either when he shall
have re-entered it, or to make him return to it."

Darker and darker grew the path of the exiled prince. His funds
became very low. He was separated from all his friends except his
faithful servant, Baudoin, who absolutely refused to leave him. He
retained but one horse. His servant chanced to be so sick that he
could not walk. The duke left Basle on foot, leading by the hand the
horse upon which his humble but faithful companion in exile was
mounted.[C]

[Footnote C: Vie Anecdotique de Louis Philippe. Par MM. A. Laugier et
Carpentier, p. 108.]

Passing through Neufchatel, Zellen Blatt, and Kussnacht, he reached
the ruins of Halsburg. Here, in the midst of silence and solitude,
the great-grandson of the brother of Louis XIV. sought a refuge from
his countrymen, who were thirsting for his blood.

[Illustration: ST. GOTHARD.]

During one of his adventurous excursions among the Alps, on foot,
accompanied only by his servant, he approached the hospitium of Saint
Gothard. It was on the 28th of August, 1793. Having rung the bell, a
Capuchin friar appeared at the casement and inquired, "What do you
want?" "I request," replied the duke, "some nourishment for my
companion and myself." "My good young men," said the friar, "we do
not admit foot-passengers here, particularly of your descriptio