D’Eon’s papers do not admit of the belief that he received an answer to that letter, but if so, it was by word of mouth and by the interposition of a chamberlain of the King of Poland who happened to be in London. At all events, d’Eon must certainly have hesitated to follow up that attractive design, for M. de Broglie, of whom he had asked permission to enter the service of Poland, replied that it was “the wish of the King” that he should not leave London without his Majesty’s orders, that “there was no other place where he could be in greater safety from the malice of his enemies or where he could serve the King more usefully.” He advised him to keep up a correspondence with the King of Poland, overwhelmed him with compliments, and mentioned in conclusion that his Majesty was convinced “of his attachment and loyalty.” If d’Eon’s object in confiding his design to the secret minister was merely to raise the price of his work and to sound the King’s intentions concerning him, he might have realised that the services he had rendered in voluntary exile had not sufficed to blot out from the King’s mind the recollection of his follies. He sincerely considered himself a political victim, and thought he had much in common with the unfortunate Cato, to whom an eminent doctor of divinity of Oxford had once compared him. The Comte de Broglie’s letter must have confirmed his proud conviction; but at the same time it vexed him greatly, for he was too cautious to be deceived by the count’s handsome promises and to fail to see that what was demanded of him was his self-effacement. No cruder punishment could have been meted out to him.