As the Duc de Noailles opened his bag, I said very loudly to M. le Duc d’Orleans that M. le Comte de Toulouse and I had just asked M. de Noailles when he would bring forward the Perigueux affair; that these people, innocent or guilty, begged only to be heard and tried; and that it appeared to me the council was in honour bound to keep them in misery no longer.  On finishing, I looked at the Comte de Toulouse, who also said something short but rather strong.  M. le Duc d’Orleans replied that we could not have done better.  The Duc de Noailles began muttering something about the press of business; that he had not time, and so forth.  I interrupted him by saying that he must find time, and that he ought to have found it long before; that nothing was so important as to keep people from ruin, or to extricate others from dungeons they were remaining in without knowing why.  M. le Duc d’Orleans said a word to the same effect, and ordered the Duc de Noailles to get himself ready to bring forward the case in a week.

From excuse to excuse, three weeks passed over.  At last I said openly to M. le Duc d’Orleans that he was being laughed at, and that justice was being trodden under foot.  At the next council it appeared that M. le Duc d’Orleans had already told the Duc de Noailles he would wait no longer.  M. le Comte de Toulouse and I continued to ask him if at last he would bring forward the Perigueux affair.  We doubted not that it would in the end be brought forward, but artifice was not yet at an end.

It was on a Tuesday afternoon, when M. le Duc d’Orleans often abridged the council to go to the opera.  Knowing this, the Duc de Noailles kept all the council occupied with different matters.  I was between him and the Comte de Toulouse.  At the end of each matter I said to him, “And the Perigueux affair?”—­“Directly,” he replied, and at once commenced something else.  At last I perceived his project, and whispered so to the Comte de Toulouse, who had already suspected it, and resolved not to be its dupe.  When the Duc de Noailles had exhausted his bag, it was five o’clock.  After putting back his papers he closed his bag, and said to M. le Duc d’Orleans that there was still the Perigueux affair which he had ordered him to bring forward, but that it would be long and detailed; that he doubtless wished to go to the opera; that it could be attended to next week; and at once, without waiting for a reply, he rises, pushes back his stool, and turns to go away.  I took him by the arm.

“Gently,” said I.  “You must learn his highness’s pleasure.  Monsieur,” said I to M. le Duc d’Orleans, still firmly holding the sleeve of the Duc de Noailles, “do you care much to-day for the opera?”

“No, no,” replied he; “let us turn to the Perigueux affair.”

“But without strangling it,” replied I.

“Yes,” said M. le Duc d’Orleans:  then looking at M. le Duc, who smiled; “you don’t care to go there?”