left unturned in order to find M. de Frejus.  That unless he had gone to Villeroy, it was probable he had hid himself in La Trappe, and that we must send and see.  With this he led me to M. le Duc d’Orleans.  He was alone, much troubled, walking up and down his chamber, and he said to me that he knew not what would become of the King, or what to do with him; that he was crying for M. de Frejus, and—­would listen to nothing; and the Regent began himself to cry out against this strange flight.

After some further consideration, Dubois pressed me to go and write to La Trappe.  All was in disorder where we were; everybody spoke at once in the cabinet; it was impossible, in the midst of all this noise, to write upon the bureau, as I often did when I was alone with the King.  My apartment was in the new wing, and perhaps shut up, for I was not expected that day.  I went therefore, instead, into the chamber of Peze, close at hand, and wrote my letter there.  The letter finished, and I about to descend, Peze, who had left me, returned, crying, “He is found! he is found! your letter is useless; return to M. le Duc d’Orleans.”

He then related to me that just before, one of M. le Duc d’Orleans’ people, who knew that Frejus was a friend of the Lamoignons, had met Courson in the grand court, and had asked him if he knew what had become of Frejus; that Courson had replied, “Certainly:  he went last night to sleep at Basville, where the President Lamoignon is;” and that upon this, the man hurried Courson to M. le Duc d’Orleans to relate this to him.

Peze and I arrived at M. le Duc d’Orleans’ room just after Courson left it.  Serenity had returned.  Frejus was well belaboured.  After a moment of cheerfulness, Cardinal Dubois advised M. le Duc d’Orleans to go and carry this good news to the King, and to say that a courier should at once be despatched to Basville, to make his preceptor return.  M. le Duc d’Orleans acted upon the suggestion, saying he would return directly.  I remained with Dubois awaiting him.

After having discussed a little this mysterious flight of Frejus, Dubois told me he had news of Villeroy.  He said that the Marechal had not ceased to cry out against the outrage committed upon his person, the audacity of the Regent, the insolence of Dubois, or to hector Artagnan all the way for having lent himself to such criminal violence; then he invoked the Manes of the deceased King, bragged of his confidence in him, the importance of the place he held, and for which he had been preferred above all others; talked of the rising that so impudent an enterprise would cause in Paris, throughout the realm, and in foreign countries; deplored the fate of the young King and of all the kingdom; the officers selected by the late King for the most precious of charges, driven away, the Duc du Maine first, himself afterwards; then he burst out into exclamations and invectives; then into praises of his services, of his fidelity, of his firmness, of his inviolable attachment to his duty.  In fact, he was so astonished, so troubled, so full of vexation and of rage, that he was thoroughly beside himself.  The Duc de Villeroy, the Marechal de Tallard and Biron had permission to go and see him at Villeroy:  scarcely anybody else asked for it.