Half an hour afterwards, as I was opening a fresh pack of cards, the Adjutant Sanzonio came in, and told the important news in the most serious manner.  He had just come from the office of the proveditore, where Captain Camporese had run in the utmost hurry to deposit in the hands of his excellency the seal and the papers of the deceased prince.  His excellency had immediately issued his orders for the burial of the prince in a vault with all the honours due to his exalted rank.  Another half hour passed, and M. Minolto, adjutant of the proveditore-generale, came to inform me that his excellency wanted to see me.  I passed the cards to Major Maroli, and went to his excellency’s house.  I found him at supper with several ladies, three or four naval commanders, Madame F——­, and M. D---- R-----.

“So, your servant was a prince!” said the old general to me.

“Your excellency, I never would have suspected it, and even now that he is dead I do not believe it.”

“Why?  He is dead, but he was not insane.  You have seen his armorial bearings, his certificate of baptism, as well as what he wrote with his own hand.  When a man is so near death, he does not fancy practical jokes.”

“If your excellency is satisfied of the truth of the story, my duty is to remain silent.”

“The story cannot be anything but true, and your doubts surprise me.”

“I doubt, monsignor, because I happen to have positive information respecting the families of La Rochefoucault and Du Plessis.  Besides, I have seen too much of the man.  He was not a madman, but he certainly was an extravagant jester.  I have never seen him write, and he has told me himself a score of times that he had never learned.”

“The paper he has written proves the contrary.  His arms have the ducal bearings; but perhaps you are not aware that M. de la Rochefoucault is a duke and peer of the French realm?”

“I beg your eminence’s pardon; I know all about it; I know even more, for I know that Francois VI. married a daughter of the house of Vivonne.”

“You know nothing.”

When I heard this remark, as foolish as it was rude, I resolved on remaining silent, and it was with some pleasure that I observed the joy felt by all the male guests at what they thought an insult and a blow to my vanity.  An officer remarked that the deceased was a fine man, a witty man, and had shewn wonderful cleverness in keeping up his assumed character so well that no one ever had the faintest suspicion of what he really was.  A lady said that, if she had known him, she would have been certain to find him out.  Another flatterer, belonging to that mean, contemptible race always to be found near the great and wealthy of the earth, assured us that the late prince had always shewn himself cheerful, amiable, obliging, devoid of haughtiness towards his comrades, and that he used to sing beautifully.  “He was only twenty-five years of age,” said Madame Sagredo, looking me full in the face, “and if he was endowed with all those qualities, you must have discovered them.”