“The event I have been relating took place before the breaking out of the revolution. Now rejoice, and listen, thou northern believer in prophecy and witches. The very day after the return of the king and queen from Versailles, when traversing the Place Louis Quinze, M. de Talleyrand was attracted by a crowd gathered round one of the deep fossés, by which the place is intersected, and, on going up, there beheld the body of the unhappy _garde-du-corps_, lying all mangled and bloody at the bottom. Some men belonging to the police were endeavouring to catch at the corpse with hooks, in order to drag it to the surface; and, as they did so, it was discovered that a great part of the throat and breast had been gnawed away by starving dogs during the night. The poor lad had been doubtless murdered by some unknown hand during the bustle and confusion of the previous day, and thrown into this convenient place, and thus was the prophecy fulfilled.” C. rose as he finished his story, and gazing around, said, laughingly, “See you now the misfortune of having to do with professed story-tellers? We began with the history of this unfinished hunting seat, and have paused at the beginning of the French Revolution!” “I need not lose by the delay, however,” said I; “you can tell me the tale of this ruin as we go home.” “I remember,” replied C., “the sight of the building brought to mind the subject, which has formed a study of mine ever since I have been with the prince—his powerful and varied influence with all who approach him—and it was thus that I was led into this long digression. This building, which you now see so ruined and degraded, was intended to have been one of the most remarkable objects of the whole country round. It was planned and designed by the late Princess T——, as a surprise and _galanterie_ for the prince, who had once, when taking a drive in her company, expressed an opinion that this would be a good site for a _maison de plaisance_. The princess said nothing in reply, but immediately on her return to the château, despatched a courier with letters to Chateauroux, containing orders for architects, surveyors, masons, and all the _attirail_ of building, to be sent immediately to the spot; and, in less time than you can well imagine, the foundations of a goodly-sized building, with courts and _dépendances_, befitting the residence of a repose-seeking prince, were erected. Expense was to be considered nought—despatch everything—workmen were to be employed night and day until the edifice was completed. All this was, moreover, to be kept a profound secret until the building was quite ready to inhabit, when the princess proposed leading the company at the château through the wood to the spot, and then, enjoying their surprise, to request their attendance at a ball and collation of her own providing, in the _maison de plaisance_, ‘which she had built as a present to the Prince de Talleyrand.’