“And all your suppositions,” replied I, “would fall short of the reality. Listen, my dear maréchale,” added I, rising, and taking her arm to proceed homewards, “I have been strictly prohibited from admitting any counsellor but the duc d’Aiguillon and the chancellor; still I can have no reserves with you, who I know, f rom the regard you bear both to the king and myself, will advise me to the best of your power.” As we walked towards the château, I explained to my companion the joint conspiracy of the Jesuits and ancient members of the parliament against the king’s life and my own. When I had ceased speaking, she replied, “All this is very possible; despair may conduct the Jesuits and parliamentarians to the greatest extremities; but still this mysterious female may be nothing more than an impostor. At any rate, I am anxious to learn whether the box she described has been left at your house; if so, it will be a strong corroboration, if not, a convincing proof of the falsehood of what she asserts.” We had by this time reached the bottom of the staircase which conducted to my apartments; we ascended the stairs rapidly, and the first person I met in the anteroom was Henriette. “Henriette,” said I, “has any thing been brought for me during my absence?” “Nothing except a box of orange-flower water from Michel the perfumer’s, which I presume you ordered, madam.” A glance of mutual surprise and consternation passed between the maréchale and myself. We entered my chamber, where madame de Mirepoix opened the fatal box; it contained the four bottles exactly as had been described. We regarded each other in profound silence, not daring to communicate our reflections. However, it was requisite to take some steps, and, catching up a pen, I hastily wrote the following billet to the duc d’Aiguillon, “MONSIEUR LE DUC,--Whatever may be the affairs with which you are at present occupied, I pray of you to throw them aside, and hasten to me instantly upon receipt of this. Nothing can equal in importance the subject upon which I wish to see you; I cannot now explain myself fully, but prepare for news of the most horrible description, and it refers to the safety and preservation of the most valuable life in the kingdom. I cannot delay time by writing more; I can only beseech of you not to lose one moment in obeying this summons. Adieu; fail not to come and bring me back this note.” The duke hastened to me full of terror and alarm. “Your letter has really frightened me,” said he; “what can be the matter? Surely the life of his majesty is not in danger?” “Too truly is it,” answered I; “but sit down, and you shall know all the affair. The maréchale is already aware of the matter and need not withdraw.”