The day was far advanced when he was found, too much overcome by hunger and fatigue to rise.  A gentleman accidentally passing, observed and pitied his condition.  After supplying him with some food, he recommended him to solicit the assistance of a benevolent lady whom he named, as she was known far and near for her readiness to help foreigners in distress; besides, she spoke the German language fluently, the only one the worn-out traveller understood.  Acting upon this advice, he repaired to the generous Comtesse de R.’s residence, at No. 16 Rue Richer.  She was a lady well stricken in years, and preserved an enthusiastic veneration for the Bourbon branch of the royal family, having been femme de chambre to the son of Louis XVI.  When the wretched wayfarer presented himself to her, she naturally inquired who he was.  To which he replied in German, ’I am Charles-Louis, Duke of Normandy, son of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette.’  Upon hearing this unexpected reply, the good old countess fainted.  On recovering her senses, she exclaimed, ’Good Heavens! he is the very image of his unfortunate mother!’ On calmer reflection, however, she was but half convinced, and determined to put the stranger’s identity to another test.  She had kept as a relic a little blue robe with metal buttons, which was worn by the royal infant when she nursed him.  This she brought forth; and the stranger no sooner saw it, than he exclaimed, ‘Ah, my little coat!’ After this, Comtesse de R. declared her belief that he was her prince to be so firm that she would have died on the scaffold rather than recant.  Without hesitation, she gave up the best apartments of her house for his use and occupation; she even offered for his acceptance the remains of her fortune.  This, however, he at once refused, asking no more from her than that she would send for a tailor to equip him with habiliments more in accordance with his pretensions than the tatters he then wore.  This the countess did, and was not slow in imparting to her royalist friends of whom she was the honoured hostess.  All acknowledged the extraordinary similarity both in person and manner which the stranger bore to the royal family.  Some were enthusiastic believers; others, with all their legitimist enthusiasm, were sceptical.  Amongst the former was a certain Monsieur S. de L., who thought the appearance of the ‘prince’ a miracle in reference to that particular time.  Louis-Philippe, when he accepted the crown nearly two years before, had done so with great apparent reluctance.  ’How happy, therefore, will he be,’ said this visionary politician, ’to remove the burden of the state from his own shoulders to those of the rightful heir to the throne!’ But before so curious a proposition was made to the king of the French, the other royalists consulted M. de Talleyrand.  He replied, with his usual epigrammatic irony, ’There are some people who are born with two left hands.  This is poor S.’s case:  added to which,