What a fine story, that story of Bassompierre's! One of the reasons for which he was so resolutely loved has to be understood. At that time, the French were divided into two classes, one dominant, the other semi-servile. The sempstress clasped Bassompierre in her arms like a demi-god who had descended to the bosom of a slave: he gave her the illusion of glory, and Frenchwomen alone among women are capable of intoxicating themselves with that illusion. But who will reveal to us the unknown causes of the catastrophe? Was the body which lay upon the table by the side of another body that of the pretty wench of the Two Angels? Whose was the other body? Was it the husband, or the man whose voice Bassompierre had heard? Had the plague (for the plague was raging in Paris) or jealousy reached the Rue Bourg-l'Abbé before love? The imagination can easily find matter for its exercises in such a subject as this. Mingle with the poet's inventions the chorus of the populace, the approaching grave-diggers, the "crows," and Bassompierre's sword, and a magnificent melodrama springs from the adventure. You will also admire the chastity and reserve of my youthful life in Paris: in that capital I was free to give way to all my whims, as in the Abbey of Thélème, where each acted according to his wish. Nevertheless, I did not abuse my independence: I had no commerce except with a courtesan two hundred and sixty years of age, who had formerly been smitten with a marshal of France, the rival of the Bearnese[206] for the affections of Mademoiselle de Montmorency, and the lover of Mademoiselle d'Entragues, sister to the Marquise de Verneuil[207], who speaks so ill of Henry IV. Louis XVI., whom I was about to see, had no suspicion of my secret relations with his family. * [Sidenote: Versailles.] The fatal day arrived; I had to set out for Versailles, more dead than alive. My brother took me there the day before my presentation, and carried me to the Maréchal de Duras, a worthy man with a mind so commonplace that it reflected a certain homeliness over his fine manners; nevertheless, the good marshal frightened me terribly.