In the midst of so many hidden dangers Beaumarchais was soon made to feel a still graver one. The French government suddenly began to thwart all his operations, and this without a word of warning or explanation. The fact was that the suspicions of the Court of St. James had been thoroughly aroused, and, pressed by the English Ambassador, the minister had been forced to take a stand. The fifteenth of November the English Court notified the Spanish Ambassador that everything was known, and the twenty-second of the same month, they expressed themselves still more strongly through other avenues. Vergennes was informed that the aid being rendered by France was no longer a secret. Something had to be done immediately to allay the fears of the English, and from this had arisen the apparent hostility of the ministers. Even had there been no one directly to blame for these disclosures, entire secrecy still could not have been maintained. The very multiplicity of the operations, “the goings and comings of Deane and Beaumarchais and their intermediaries, the confidence that was inspired by the support of the government leading to indiscretions, all this divulged the acts.” (_Doniol_ II, 35.) More than this, officers enrolled, or those who wished to be, were spread about in the cafés and public places, in Paris or the seaports, awaiting the moment of embarkation. All these men, “infatuated and needy,” were under the control of du Coudray, who was expecting to sail on the largest of Beaumarchais’s ships, _l’Amphitrite_, a vessel of 480 tons, which already had received its cargo, and was only awaiting the presence of the officer in order to set sail. For some unaccountable reason, he had returned to Versailles without giving any notice. He remained there for more than a week, causing a delay which threatened to spoil everything. Beaumarchais, supposing that the ministry was at fault, wrote to Vergennes in the following impatient manner: “Everything has gone, everything is waiting. Why cannot I have the whole management of the affair? Then nothing would be delayed and my vessels would already be in America.” The truth was that du Coudray, relying upon his powerful support at court, had gone to Versailles in order to succeed in escaping if possible from the hands of Beaumarchais, so as not to go over as his envoy. He had all along been lengthening “by every means in his power the delay in getting off, had sown discontent among the enrolled, sending away such as he could not gain, had encouraged complaint, confided the place of embarkation to indiscreet persons, and then threw upon Beaumarchais the blame of the noise which he himself had made.” (_Doniol_ II, 61.) In addition to all the rest, Beaumarchais was guilty of a particular indiscretion of his own. Having gone the 6th of December, 1776, to Havre, under the assumed name of Durand, in order to superintend, without arousing suspicion, the despatching of three of his