Murat had conceived intoxicating hopes which did not tend to the tranquillity of the Spanish court. He had asked for political instructions, which were refused to him. "What I do not tell you is what you ought not to know," wrote Napoleon to his lieutenant. Uneasiness and fear reigned in the household of the king, under the outside show of welcome lavished on the French soldiers. Already the Prince de la Paix was preparing for the flight of the royal family. That which the house of Braganza had done by setting out for Brazil, the house of Bourbon could do by taking refuge in Peru. The departure of the court for Seville was announced; it was the first step in a longer journey, of which the project had not yet been revealed to Charles IV. The royal family were besides profoundly divided. The Prince of Asturias swore that he would not quit Aranjuez; his uncle Don Antonio supported him in resistance. A few of the ministers were seemingly throwing off the yoke of the Prince de la Paix. The Marquis of Caballero, the Minister of Justice, refused to sign the orders necessary for the departure. "I command it," said the Prince de la Paix imperiously. "I only receive orders from the king," said the Spanish nobleman in a tone to which the favorite was not accustomed. Meanwhile the population of Madrid, and the peasants in the environs of Aranjuez, were stirred up by the reports of the departure which circulated in the country; the preparations carried on by the confidants of the Prince de la Paix, excited much anger and uneasiness. An agitated and inquisitive crowd ceaselessly surrounded the palace, carefully watching all the movements of the inmates: a proclamation of the King, promising not to withdraw, did not suffice to allay suspicion. On the night of March 17th, a veiled lady came forth from the house of the Prince de la Paix to a carriage which was waiting for her. The multitude thought they had discovered a prelude to the departure; all hands were extended to stay the fugitive. In the struggle a shot was fired; the crowd immediately rushed forward, forcing the gates, and overturning the guards who protected the palace of the favorite. In an instant his dwelling was pillaged, his art treasures destroyed, his tapestries torn up and scattered to the winds. We have been witnesses of the sorrowful results of popular fury. The Princess de la Paix alone, trembling for her life in the palace where her just pride had so often suffered, was spared by the vengeance of the multitude; they brought her in triumph to the house of the king. "Behold innocence!" cried the people. The Prince de la Paix had disappeared.