Before leaving, I asked what your Majesty’s wishes were with regard to the cipher I was to use. I was desired to draw up a code on my way, and forward it to your Majesty. I drew up a code at Speyer, and put it in a letter, of which I now enclose a copy. If the letter arrived, I presume that the cipher arrived too; in the other case, they will both have been lost together. I send another code, which seems to me less difficult. I am surprised that your Majesty has not received the letter I wrote at the end of November, before setting out for Avignon. Some of your Majesty’s despatches to me are also missing—viz. those dated December 11 and 16. As to the state of France, matters are at a deadlock. They would fain be at peace, for war means ruin, and the very sinews of war are failing; but still they insist on the restoration of the King’s towns as a matter in which his honour is concerned. On the other hand, the insurgents do not care for any peace which does not furnish guarantees for their safety. As to confidence, which is the very bond of human society, they have lost it altogether, and will trust nought save walls and fortifications. Such a difference of views it is not easy to reconcile. I think that anyone who offered to act as mediator would be welcomed by the King, as he would then be able to patch up a peace by pledging some one else’s word. His own is absolutely worthless. But who would care to pledge himself, when there are a hundred ways in which his guarantee may be set at nought? Some, however, wish that a league could be made against the Turk, and Condé sent to Hungary, with large forces both of foot and horse, by way of pumping out the water from which, according to their idea, France is foundering. But it is an idle scheme, for the object of the rebels in making war is to protect their altars and firesides, their children and their wives; and I fail to understand by what argument they can be induced to abandon all they hold dear, and allow themselves to be sent to Hungary. This also is the opinion expressed to me lately by Bellièvre,[49] who was the late King’s ambassador in Poland. Your Majesty saw him when the King came to Vienna. He is a man who carries great weight. He assured me in the most solemn manner that the King, at his suggestion, had written during his stay at Mantua, and again from France, to his ambassador at Constantinople, ordering him to support your Majesty’s interests, and that if he had done otherwise he had distinctly disobeyed the orders of his master.[50]