“How, acquainted with?” she asked.  “We know nothing, except that a Bed of justice has been held, and we are expiring to know why, and what has passed there.”

My astonishment at this ignorance was extreme, and I made her swear and repeat four times over that nothing was known at Saint-Cloud.  I told her thereupon what had happened, and she, in her turn, astonished, almost fell backwards!  But where was Madame Sforze? she came not, and do what I must, say what I might, I was forced to carry, my message to Madame la Duchesse d’Orleans.  I was sorely loth to do so, but was dragged by the hand almost as a sheep is led to the slaughter.

I stood before Madame la Duchesse d’Orleans after having passed through an apartment filled with her people, fear painted upon all their faces.  I saluted her; but, oh! how differently from my usual manner!  She did not perceive this at first, and begged me, with a cheerful natural air, to approach her; but seeing my trouble, she exclaimed, “Good Heavens, Monsieur, what a face you wear!  What news bring you?”

Seeing that I remained silent and motionless, she became more moved, and repeated her questions.  I advanced a few steps towards her, and at her third appeal, I said:  “Madame, you know nothing then?”

“No, Monsieur; I simply know that there has been a Bed of justice:  what has passed there I am quite ignorant of.”

“Ah, Madame,” I replied, half turning away; “I am more unhappy, then, than I thought to be.”

“What is the matter?” exclaimed she; “what has happened?” (rising and sitting bolt upright on the sofa she was stretched upon.) “Come near and sit down!”

I approached; stated that I was in despair.  She, more and more moved, said to me, “But speak; better to learn bad news from one’s friend than from others.”

This remark pierced me to the heart, and made me sensible of the grief I was going to inflict upon her.  I summoned up courage, and I told her all.

The tears of Madame la Duchesse d’Orleans flowed abundantly at my recital.  She did not answer a word, uttered no cry, but wept bitterly.  She pointed to a seat and I sat down upon it, my eyes during several instants fixed upon the floor.  Afterwards I said that M. le Duc d’Orleans, who had rather forced upon me this commission, than charged me with it, had expressly commanded me to tell her that he had very strong proofs in his hands against M. du Maine; that he had kept them back a long time, but could no longer do so now.  She gently replied to me that her brother was very unfortunate and shortly afterwards asked if I knew what his crime was.  I said that M. le Duc d’Orleans had not told me; and that I had not dared to question him upon a subject of this nature, seeing that he was not inclined to talk of it.

More tears shortly afterwards filled her eyes.  Her brother must be very criminal, she said, to be so treated.