Comte Jean, who had seen M. de Maupeou quit the house, entered my apartment to inquire the reason of his visit. Silent and dejected, I allowed my brother-in-law to take up the paper, which he read without any ceremony. “What is the meaning of this scrawl?” cried comte Jean, with one of his usual oaths; “upon my word our cousin is a fine fellow,” continued he, crushing the paper between his fingers. “I’ll engage that he still hopes to keep his place; however, one thing consoles me, and that is, that both he and his parliament will soon be sent to the right about.” Our conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Chamilly, who came to acquaint me that the king was sleeping, and did not wish to be again disturbed that night. Remembering my usual omnipotence in the château, I was about, like a true idiot, to prove to Chamilly that the king’s interdict did not extend to me, when I was stopped in my purpose by the appearance of the duc d’Aiguillon; and as it was now nearly eleven o’clock at night, I could scarcely doubt his being the bearer of some extraordinary message. CHAPTER XLIV The duc d’Aiguillon brings an order for the immediate departure of madame du Barry--The king’s remarks recapitulated--The countess holds a privy council--Letter to madame de Mirepoix and the ducs de Cossé and d’Aiguillon-- Night of departure--Ruel--Visit from madame de Forcalquier I said I did not expect the duc d’Aiguillon; and the grief which was spread over his features, and the large tears which stood in his eyes, persuaded me but too plainly that all hope was at an end. “Is the king dead?” cried I, in a stifled voice. “No, madam,” replied he, “Louis XV still lives, nor is it by any means certain that the misfortune you apprehend is in store for us.” “He sends me from him, then,” exclaimed I, with a convulsive cry, “and my enemies have triumphed.” “His majesty is but of human nature, madam,” replied the duke; “he feels himself dangerously ill, dreads the future, and believes that he owes his people a sort of reparation for past errors.” “How, my lord duke,” interrupted I, “this grave language in your lips--but no matter. Inform me only at whose desire you state these melancholy facts; speak, I am prepared for your mission, be it what it may.” “You shall hear everything, madam,” replied the duke, leading me to an arm-chair. I seated myself; my sisters-in-law, my niece, and comte Jean stood around me, eagerly waiting the duke’s communication. “A few hours after you had been removed from his chamber, the king inquired of the princess Adélaïde whether it were generally known at Paris that he had the small-pox. The princess replied in the affirmative, adding: “‘The archbishop of Paris was here twice during yesterday to inquire after you.’ “‘Yet I belong more properly to the diocese of Chartres,’ returned the king, ‘and surely M. de Fleury would not interest himself less about me than M. de Beaumont.’