To make an open attack was impossible. Meanwhile, the old dotard of a count, infatuated by the suggestions which the Chevalier d'Arc continually whispered, fancied himself a minister of state, destined to save France from every peril by the guidance of his sage advice; moreover, he saw in his brother, the baron, a marshal of France, and in his younger brother, an archbishop or cardinal. This picture enchanted him, and instead of kicking his infamous tempter out of doors, he listened to no other counsel but his. The virtue of his daughter became a chimera and a trifle compared with the advantages which must result to the entire community from an influence acquired over the yielding mind of a libertine monarch. The chevalier, on his part, had committed himself in the affair beyond retreat. The King had heard something of it. His valet, Lebel, and the portly lady, the directress of the Parc-aux-Cerfs, were impatiently awaiting the appearance of this eighth wonder of the world. They worried the intermeddling chevalier, and he soon concluded that the palladium of the royal protection should be secured as soon as possible, and by all possible means. He and the father of the young lady had recourse to stratagem. They lived in Paris in the Rue des Moulins. One morning, under the pretext of preferring a request to M. de Choiseul, lately installed minister, the Comte de Pal----, his daughter, and the Chevalier d'Arc proceeded to Versailles. On their arrival, they enquired the hour at which the minister received public applicants, and finding that there was some time to spare, the chevalier proposed a promenade through the town. The suggestion was approved by the father, and the daughter acquiesced. They take their way through a lonely lane. The long wall, by which it is bounded on one side, is pierced by a door which happens to be open, and discloses a view of a beautiful garden. They ask of a domestic who is passing if they can be permitted to walk in this delightful place. The reply is affirmative, and they enter; and at the end of a shady avenue, they meet a lady. "Oh! it is the Marchioness d'Allinvilliers." "Oh! the much-esteemed Chevalier d'Arc!--what a pleasure!" "I am enchanted, madame, at this instance of good fortune in meeting you. I presume to present to you the Comte de Pal----, my most intimate friend, and Mademoiselle, his daughter." High compliments are reciprocated. The Marchioness, so luckily encountered, assumes the guidance of the party. They admire the beauty and magnificence of the place. At last they arrived at a kiosque, erected in the purest oriental style, and they find a repast of the choicest pastry, fruits, liqueurs, wines, and iced water. Mademoiselle Helene de Pal---- is pressed to eat and drink. She complies; and after having taken refreshment, a sudden stupor overcomes her, and she yields to a somnolency totally irresistible.