he the right Keeper? So, for one, thinks busy Besenval; and, at dinner-table, rounds the same into the Controller’s ear,—who always, in the intervals of landlord-duties, listens to him as with charmed look, but answers nothing positive.[57] Alas, what to answer? The force of private intrigue, and then also the force of public opinion, grows so dangerous, confused! Philosophedom sneers aloud, as if its Necker already triumphed. The gaping populace gapes over Wood-cuts or Copper-cuts; where, for example, a Rustic is represented convoking the poultry of his barnyard, with this opening address: ‘Dear animals, I have assembled you to advise me what sauce I shall dress you with;’ to which a Cock responding, ‘We don’t want to be eaten,’ is checked by ‘You wander from the point (_Vous vous écartez de la question_).’[58] Laughter and logic; ballad-singer, pamphleteer; epigram and caricature: what wind of public opinion is this,—as if the Cave of the Winds were bursting loose! At nightfall, President Lamoignon steals over to the Controller’s; finds him “walking with large strides in his chamber, like one out of himself.”[59] With rapid confused speech the Controller begs M. de Lamoignon to give him “an advice.” Lamoignon candidly answers that, except in regard to his own anticipated Keepership, unless that would prove remedial, he really cannot take upon him to advise. “On the Monday after Easter,” the 9th of April 1787, a date one rejoices to verify, for nothing can excel the indolent falsehood of these _Histoires and Mémoires_,—“On the Monday after Easter, as I, Besenval, was riding towards Romainville to the Maréchal de Segur’s, I met a friend on the Boulevards, who told me that M. de Calonne was out. A little further on came M. the Duke d’Orléans, dashing towards me, head to the wind” (trotting _à l’Anglaise_), “and confirmed the news.”[60] It is true news. Treacherous Garde-des-Sceaux Miroménil is gone, and Lamoignon is appointed in his room: but appointed for his own profit only, not for the Controller’s: “next day” the Controller also has had to move. A little longer he may linger near; be seen among the money changers, and even “working in the Controller’s office,” where much lies unfinished: but neither will that hold. Too strong blows and beats this tempest of public opinion, of private intrigue, as from the Cave of all the Winds; and blows him (higher Authority giving sign) out of Paris and France,—over the horizon, into Invisibility, or outer Darkness.