“I wish,” writes M. de Thauvenay, “that I could convey to you the deep and tender feeling with which my dear and venerated master has read these new and touching testimonies of your interest and friendship, and his deep regret at being unable to enjoy the consolations that your sympathetic and generous nature has proffered him! No, monsieur, I swear to you, no other house has offered him any kind of interest in the speculation you have proposed to him. I should add that there is no one with whom he would rather have shared the chances than with you; but his position is such that, for the moment at least, he can only display passive courage in the face of misfortune. I need not remind you, monsieur, that the most appreciative and most generous of hearts has eternal claim upon a heart such as yours. Never, I feel convinced, will your noble and moving sentiment be modified by time or place. This conviction is sweet to me, and it is with the utmost sincerity that I render you once again my tender (if I may use the word) and admiring respect.” It is not easy at first to understand what M. de Thauvenay means by this “speculation,” in which the King refuses to take part. On reflection it seems probable that Lady Atkyns’s proposal, thus described, had reference to the affair of the Temple, for it seems impossible that she should have flattered herself that she could see a way to the return of the exiled King. However that may be, these two letters convinced her that it would be useless to prolong her stay in France, and she returned to Ketteringham, after an absence of three years, without having effected her purpose. * * * * * Two tragic events occurred in the year 1804 to startle the French who were still taking refuge in England. The first was the arrest and shooting of the Duc d’Enghien at Vincennes. If Bonaparte had punished one of the many schemers who had plotted against him on English soil, his action would have found defenders. But this execution of a Prince, who was absolutely innocent and who had held apart from all political intrigues, aroused the same kind of horror that had been evoked eleven years earlier by the death of Louis XVI. and Marie-Antoinette. The Prince de Condé, the Duc d’Enghien’s grandfather, was staying in England at this time, like _Monsieur_, the King’s brother, and their residences were naturally the centre of the excitement over this event. The Baron de Suzannet describes the state of things in their _entourage_ in a letter to Lady Atkyns:--