The opportunity for leaving D’Eon in charge on the departure of the ambassador seeming to be lost, de Nivernois recommended him for appointment as Resident, an arrangement desirable in the interests of the King’s service, and one which would enable de Guerchy to receive such valuable assistance as no other person but the secretary of Embassy was qualified to render, for he was fully competent to continue the work he, the ambassador, had commenced. D’Eon’s presence was preferable to that of a stranger. Lord Bute had taken a fancy to him, which was saying a great deal, and was a piece of luck that might not fall to a new-comer. On the other hand, D’Eon was being informed by M. Sainte Foy, senior clerk at the Foreign Office, that it was earnestly desired he should remain with de Guerchy, and yet de Praslin was slow in paying the smallest attention to de Nivernois’ frequent recommendations in his favour. De Praslin had his reasons; he doubted D’Eon’s loyalty towards himself, and suspected him of being in correspondence with the exiled de Broglios. He should put him to the test, and how this was accomplished shall be related in D’Eon’s own words:— ‘One evening about midnight, towards the end of March, the Duke de Praslin put me through a kind of interrogatory. Sainte Foy was a witness. The duke said: “You were at the battle of Villinghausen, M. D’Eon; tell me all you saw and all you know with regard to that action.” I did so conscientiously, relating to him all I saw with my own eyes. My recital not being either to his taste or to that of the Count de Guerchy, his satellite, who was present, he interrupted me frequently by stamping his foot; and rising from his chair he said to me several times: “I know it to have been the contrary to what you say, and this from one of my intimate friends who was also there.” He alluded to the Count de Guerchy. He then looked at Sainte Foy. At every reply I made, the duke looked cross and gave a sardonic smile. “But, my dear D’Eon, you surely did not witness all you relate?” I persisted in assuring him, as I should do to my life’s end, that I had perfectly well seen and heard what I had told him. The duke concluded by saying: “It is your attachment to the de Broglios that makes you speak as you do.” “Faith, sir!” I replied; “it is my attachment to the truth. You question me, and I can only tell you what I myself know.” After we had left the minister, Sainte Foy scolded me in a friendly way for my want of policy. “My dear D’Eon,” he said, “I fear you will never make your fortune in this country. Be off to England as quickly as you can.” “I wish for nothing better,” was my reply.’[93] Eighteen years after the battle of Villinghausen, D’Eon wrote:—