A great change in my situation was the first result of Gourville's visit: I was removed to a warm and dry chamber, from which I could see over the whole country round. Good food, books, and writing materials were allowed me; and my gaoler, now become civil and complacent enough, purchased for me, with part of the money which Gourville had lent, various articles of clothing, of which I had long stood in need, and for which he did not charge me much more than double the value. My first care was to write to Monsieur de Villardin, and the gaoler undertook to see the epistle despatched; but certain it is the letter never reached its destination; and whether it remained for ever within the walls of the prison at Stenay, or lost itself when it got out into the wide world, I cannot tell. It mattered but little, however; for, eight days after Gourville had left me, I was visited by one of the officers of the garrison, who informed me that he had received orders from the Prince de Condé to conduct me to Paris, and that if I had no objection, he proposed setting out the next day. I assured him that nothing on earth would give me greater pleasure; and a little after day-break I had to thank God for seeing the gates of that accursed prison thrown open to give me egress. The officer and his party were waiting me in the street, with one led horse for myself, and another for my baggage; but as all the clothes I had were those which the gaoler had purchased for me, they were easily so arranged as to go on the horse that carried myself, and the other was consequently sent back. During the last week I had been permitted to walk every day in the court of the prison, and had, in consequence, regained, in a great degree, the use of my limbs; but still I was very much fatigued when I arrived at the end of our first day's journey. The officer who conducted or guarded me was a very quiet, civil personage, and as we rode along, he told me that he was ordered to require my parole not to attempt an escape, and then to give me every sort of liberty. My parole was, of course, willingly given, and after a slow, and, as it appeared to me, a tedious march, we arrived in Paris just three days after the battle of the Faubourg St. Antoine. We had nearly, it is true, been cut off by a body of royalist cavalry, who passed us in the neighbourhood of Charonne; but it is probable that, never dreaming a party attached to the Prince de Condé would show itself on that side of the town so immediately after his defeat, they took us for some of their own partisans. At all events, they passed within a hundred yards of our little troop; and their commander even shouted a good morrow to the officer at our head, which, on his part, was returned with great courtesy. Such was the method in which war was carried on in those days.