The Marechal had scarcely reached his own house in the Place Royale than he was informed that the sedition had broken out with even greater force in the Faubourg Saint Antoine.  He ran there immediately, with the Duc de Grammont, and appeased it as he had appeased the other.  He returned to his own home to eat a mouthful or two, and then set out for Versailles.  Scarcely had he left the Place Royale than the people in the streets and the shopkeepers cried to him to have pity on them, and to get them some bread, always with “Vive M. le Marechal de Boufflers!” He was conducted thus as far as the quay of the Louvre.

On arriving at Versailles he went straight to the King, told him what had occurred, and was much thanked.  He was even offered by the King the command of Paris,—­troops, citizens, police, and all; but this he declined, Paris, as he said, having already a governor and proper officers to conduct its affairs.  He afterwards, however, willingly lent his aid to them in office, and the modesty with which he acted brought him new glory.

Immediately after, the supply of bread was carefully looked to.  Paris was filled with patrols, perhaps with too many, but they succeeded so well that no fresh disturbances took place.

CHAPTER XLV

After his return from the campaign, M. de Vendome continued to be paid like a general serving in winter, and to enjoy many other advantages.  From all this, people inferred that he would serve during the following campaign; nobody dared to doubt as much, and the cabal derived new strength therefrom.  But their little triumph was not of long continuance.  M. de Vendome came to Versailles for the ceremony of the Order on Candlemas-Day.  He then learned that he was not to serve, and that he was no longer to receive general’s pay.  The blow was violent, and he felt it to its fullest extent; but, with a prudence that equalled his former imprudence, he swallowed the pill without making a face, because he feared other more bitter ones, which he felt he had deserved.  This it was that, for the first time in his life, made him moderate.  He did not affect to conceal what had taken place, but did not say whether it was in consequence of any request of his, or whether he was glad or sorry,—­giving it out as an indifferent piece of news; and changed nothing but his language, the audacity of which he diminished as no longer suited to the times.  He sold his equipages.

M. le Prince de Conti died February 22, aged not quite forty-five.  His face had been charming; even the defects of his body and mind had infinite graces.  His shoulders were too high; his head was a little on one side; his laugh would have seemed a bray in any one else; his mind was strangely absent.  He was gallant with the women, in love with many, well treated by several; he was even coquettish with men.  He endeavoured to please the cobbler, the