“No, dear lady, I shall not forget my devotion to you before I forget my allegiance to the blood of my kings. I have broken faith in no way, but, unfortunately, I have none but untoward news to give you. I have been grieved to find that we have been deceived most completely. For nearly a month after landing I was in the dark, but at last I got to the bottom of the affair. I was not able to get to see the unfortunate child who was born to rule over us. He was not saved. The regicides--regicides twice over--having first, like the monsters they are, allowed him to languish in his prison, brought about his end there. He never left it. Just reflect how we have all been duped. I don’t know how it is that without having ever received my letters you are still labouring under this delusion. Nothing remains for you but to weep for our treasure and to punish the miscreants who are responsible for his death. Madame alone remains, and it is almost certain that she will be sent to the Emperor, if this has not been done already.” These lines but confirmed what Frotté had written in the preceding March, after his talk with the representative of the Convention. The news of the Dauphin’s death having been proclaimed shortly after that, there had been no longer any difficulty in persuading the Chevalier to take up arms in the service of the Comte de Provence. He discloses himself the change that has come over his sentiments. “How is it,” he writes to Lady Atkyns, “that you are still under the delusion, when all France has resounded with the story of the misfortunes of our young, unhappy King? The whole of Europe has now recognized His Royal Highness, his uncle, as King of France.... The rights of blood have given me another master, and I owe him equally my zeal and the service of my arm, happy in having got a number of gallant Royalists together. I have the honour of being in command of those fighting in Normandy. That is my position, madame. You will readily understand how I have suffered over the terrible destiny of my young King, and nothing intensifies my sorrow so much as the thought of the sadness you yourself will feel when you learn the truth. But moderate your grief, my friend. You owe yourself to the sister not less than to the brother.” And to enforce this advice, Frotté recalls to her the memory of the Queen, which should serve, he thinks, to remove all scruples. “Remember the commands of your august friend, and you will be able to bear up under your misfortunes. You will keep up your spirits for the sake of Madame. You will live for her and for your friends, to whom, moreover, you should do more justice. Adieu, my unhappy friend. Accept the homage of a true Royalist, who will never cease to be devoted to you, who will never cease either to deplore this deception of which we have been victims. Adieu.”