The equipment of the _Chevalière d’Eon_, my faithful old friend, is not taking the turn that I would have wished for your sake, as well as for M. Le Sesne’s and mine, notwithstanding all the efforts I have made and am still making. I must not conceal from you the fact that the vessel destined to bear your name exists as yet only in M. Le Sesne’s imagination, and that there is not in the dockyard at Granville a single foot of timber for the framing of the ship. M. Le Sesne, it is true, had bought a certain quantity of wood for that purpose, which was seized, as it had not been paid for, and in order to avoid disagreeable consequences a certain M. Agaste has lately been sent here to prevent legal proceedings; but all that does not, and will never, further the building of the vessel _La Chevalière d’Eon_. The scheme formed by Messrs. Le Sesne and Co. failed, therefore, for want of money, and d’Eon found himself obliged to disband the officers and crew whom he had enlisted to fight under his colours. The idea, however, was not lost; for a few months later, other shipbuilders, Messrs. Charet and Ozenne, of Nantes, gave the name of _Chevalière d’Eon_—a name which they considered, no doubt, a symbol of successful audacity—to one of the vessels they were fitting out to convey the commodities which, in spite of the naval war, were being exchanged with the French colonies in America and India. D’Eon, discouraged doubtless by the failure of the first enterprise, does not appear to have concerned himself about this fresh undertaking; but he remained in Paris whither this business had called him. He did not return to court, and only resided in the capital during the winter of 1780-81. At that time he was living in the house of Madame de Brie, in the Rue de Grenelle-Saint-Germain, leading a quiet life with his friend Drouet, formerly secretary to the Comte de Broglie. His old acquaintances came to call upon him. Madame Tercier invited him to dinner, promising “to talk of secret affairs until they should be obliged to stop for want of breath.” The Marquis de Courtenvaux, a relative of Louvois, who called him “sa chère payse,” would send his coach to fetch the Chevalière “at the swing-bridge of the Tuileries.” They would go together to visit the Abbey of Port Royal des Champs and the Château of Bagatelle, the property of the Comte d’Artois; or else, crossing the much-frequented Bois de Boulogne, they would go to hear the beautiful singing of the Ladies of the Abbey of Longchamp, who, during Lent, attracted the most fashionable and, it would seem, the least devout society. D’Eon led the life of a tourist, being eager to see the beauties and the curiosities of a town which he had left more than twenty years before, and which he had not been able to explore on his return from England, occupied as he then was with his disguise. The diary which he kept at that time leads