Some weeks before the fall of Charles X., Lady Atkyns drew up yet another petition for presentation to the chief of the King’s household. She did not mince her words in this document. “I little thought that lack of funds would be advanced as a reason for delaying the execution of the King’s orders. I will not enlarge upon the strangeness of such an avowal, especially as a reimbursement of so sacred a character is in question, sanctioned by the Royal will. I would merely point out to you, Monsieur le Marquis, that I have contrived to find considerable sums (thereby incurring great losses) when it was to the interest of France, and of her King, and of her august family. Failing a sufficiency of money to liquidate this debt, I have the honour to propose to your Excellency that you should make out an order for the payment, and I shall find means of getting it discounted. In your capacity as a Minister to the King, your Excellency will be able, without delay, to obtain the amount necessary, minus a discount, from the Court bankers. Will you not deign, monseigneur, to ask them to do this, and I shall willingly forego the discount that may be stipulated for.... Finally, monseigneur, I beg of you to tell me immediately the day and the hour when I may present myself at the Ministry to terminate this matter. I must venture to remind you that the least delay will involve my ruin, and therefore I cannot consent to it.” Lady Atkyns’s persistence and the King’s procrastination seem intelligible enough when one learns that the sums expended by her, from the time when Louis XVI.’s reign was projected down to the last year of the Consulate, amounted to more than £80,000. The Englishwoman might well speak of the sacrifices she had made and the loss of her fortune at the dictates of her heart. One other letter we find amongst Lady Atkyns’s papers--a letter notable for its fine, regular penmanship. It evidently reached her about this date. The writer was yet another _soi-disant_ Dauphin, the third serious pretendant. The Baron de Richemont--his real name was Hebert--had published in 1831 his _Mémoires du Duc de Normandie, fils de Louis XVI. écrits et publiés par lui-même_, and he was not long in convincing a number of people as to his identity. He probably owed most of his particulars as to his alleged escape from the Temple to the wife of Simon, whom he had visited at the Hospital for Incurables in the Rue de Sèvres. Possibly it was through her also that he heard of Lady Atkyns. At all events, he thought it worth while to approach her.