As it was known to those present that he had been imprisoned in Chalons as a rogue, and had condescended subsequently to accept the hospitality of the tailor of St. Lo, it was necessary to give some slight explanation of circumstances which were so untoward.  But his ingenuity was not at fault, and the audacity of his story even helped to satisfy his dupes.  He admitted that when he was examined before the authorities he had acknowledged Hervagault as his father; but he declared that he had done so simply to escape from the rage of his enemies, who were anxious to destroy him; and he considered that the tailor, who had accepted royalist gold in exchange for a son, was both bound to protect and recognise him.

There was no doubting.  Those who listened were convinced.  The king had come to take his own again; and Louis XVII. was the hero of the hour.  Royalist vied with royalist in doing him service, and the ladies, who loved him for his beauty, pitied him for his misfortunes, and admired him for his devotion to the Princess Benedectine, were the foremost in endeavouring to restore him to his rights.  Like devout Frenchwomen their first thought was to procure for him the recognition of the church, and they persuaded the cure of Somepuis to invite their protege to dinner.  The village priest gladly did so, inasmuch as the banquet was paid for by other folks than himself; but, being a jovial ecclesiastic, he failed to perceive the true dignity of this descendant of St. Louis, and even went so far as to jest with the royal participant of his hospitality, somewhat rudely remarking that “the prince had but a poor appetite, considering that he belonged to a house whose members were celebrated as bons vivants!” The dauphin was insulted, the ladies were vexed, and the cure was so intensely amused that he burst into an explosive fit of laughter.  The dinner came to an untimely conclusion, and the branded of the Pope retired wrathfully.

But Fouche heard of these occurrences!  The great minister of police was little likely to allow an adventurer to wander about the provinces without a passport, declaring himself the son of Louis XVI.  By his instructions the pretender was arrested, but even when in the hands of the police lost none of his audacity.  He assumed the airs of royalty, and assured his disconsolate friends that the time would speedily come when his wrongs would be righted, his enemies discomfited, and his adherents rewarded as they deserved.  The martyr was even more greatly feted in jail than he had been when at liberty.  The prison regulations were relaxed to the utmost in his favour by dubious officials, who feared to incur the vengeance of the coming king; banquets were held in the apartments of the illustrious captive; valuable presents were laid at his feet; and a petty court was established within the walls of the prison.