‘Sir,—M. Prémarets fled from my house in such a hurry last night that he gave me no time, either to read the whole of your Excellency’s letter or to speak to him. I invited him, however, to dinner, and to drink some good wine from Tonnerre; but he became unnecessarily alarmed, and insisted upon running away. Although a dragoon, I am not so black a devil as people would make me, and if your Excellency could see into my heart, you would find a very pure and a very clear conscience.... With regard to the King’s papers for which you ask me, it is with an aching heart that I am obliged to tell your Excellency I cannot have the honour of delivering them without an express order from the King, and I beg that you will communicate this to those at Court. If you have such an order, be good enough to send it to me by my friend M. Monin; he has known me long, and must be fully persuaded that I will not only obey the orders of my master, but will die for him if needs be. I value my life at four _sous_, and those four _sous_ I give to the poor. Your Excellency requires no length of time to obtain an order from the King, and if in the interim you should require any information in the interests of the service, I will give all it is in my power to communicate. Do not judge me hastily, and do not condemn me as yet; the future may teach you something. I repeat to you my entreaty to be thoroughly persuaded, that I have never wished to fail in my respect towards the Duke de Praslin and towards yourself; but bear in mind that I am determined to be otherwise, if you persist in continually seeking to force me to forget my duty, my sense of honour, of equity, and of liberty. Recollect, that when St. Peter was asleep on the Mount of Olives, he was thus reproached by his Master: “_Spiritus quidem promptus est, caro vero infirma._” I therefore beg of you, sir, to allow me to sleep in peace in London, where I will firmly await the spies that have been sent to watch me....’[149] The Chevalier was thus proving himself to be more than a match for the ambassador, who was finally obliged to confess to the King his complete failure in every effort he had made to execute his Majesty’s commands. _The Count de Guerchy to Louis XV._ ‘London, December 6, 1763.