“Carolus de Saint Denis, Duc de St Evrémond. Viro Clarissimo Inter Præstantiores Aloi Sui Scriptores Semper Memorando Amici Marantes. P. P.” The golden link of their correspondence henceforth was alone to hold together the names of Ninon de L’Enclos and Henri de St Evrémond. Madame Arnoul was regarded by Ninon with scant favour. She held her for a sort of _âme damnée_ of Madame Scarron, an adventuress, who played her cards well, so skilfully indeed, that her prognostications seemed more and more surely finding realisation. The Montespan’s temper did not improve with time, and the placid demeanour of the royal governess was a great attraction to Louis, who would come oftener, and stay longer in his visits to the children. Moreover, he found great charm in her conversation. Ninon, who could not remain blind to these indications, and was ready to go great lengths to bring about de Montespan’s disgrace, disliking Madame Arnoul as she did, was not above lending herself to forward any scheme to that end, even though it originated in Madame Arnoul’s fertile brain; and one sufficiently daring did presently find birth there. For the service she had rendered Ninon conjointly with Molière, in freeing her from the durance of the _Répenties_, Madame Arnoul had claimed of her a _quid pro quo_ at some future time. That time, she said, when she called upon her some few weeks later, was now, for putting the finishing strokes to the downfall of the favourite—if that de Montespan could still be designated—and Ninon was to be the instrument for this. She was, in the first place, to disguise herself as a man. So far, nothing easier, said Ninon—was it not to do what she had done so many a time?—and that small matter arranged, she and Madame Arnoul set out for the frontiers, where the king was about to go with all his Court to meet Turenne, who had been waging victorious war against the combined forces of Spain and Austria, waxing ever more alarmed at, and jealous of, the successes of Louis XIV.