SECTION VIII.

Editor in continuation.

I am compelled, with reluctance, to continue personally upon the stage, and must do so for the three ensuing chapters, in order to put my readers in possession of circumstances explanatory of the next portion of the Journal of the Princesse de Lamballe.

Even the particulars I am about to mention can give but a very faint idea of the state of alarm in which the Royal Family lived, and the perpetual watchfulness and strange and involved expedients that were found necessary for their protection.  Their most trifling communications were scrutinized with so much jealousy that when any of importance were to be made it required a dexterity almost miraculous to screen them from the ever-watchful eye of espionage.

I was often made instrumental in evading the curiosity of others, without ever receiving any clue to the gratification of my own, even had I been troubled with such impertinence.  The anecdote I am about to mention will show how cautious a game it was thought necessary to play; and the result of my half-information will evince that over-caution may produce evils almost equal to total carelessness.

Some time previous to the flight of the Royal Family from Paris, the Princesse de Lamballe told me she wanted some repairs made to the locks of certain dressing and writing-desks; but she would prefer having them done at my apartments, and by a locksmith who lived at a distance from the palace.

When the boxes were repaired, I was sent with one of them to Lisle, where another person took charge of it for the Archduchess at Brussels.

There was something which strongly marked the kind-heartedness of the Princesse de Lamballe in a part of this transaction.  I had left Paris without a passport, and Her Highness, fearing it might expose me to inconvenience, sent an express after me.  The express arrived three hours before I did, and the person to whom I have alluded came out of Brussels in his carriage to meet me and receive the box.  At the same time, he gave me a sealed letter, without any address.  I asked him from whom he received it, and to whom it was to be delivered.  He said he was only instructed to deliver it to the lady with the box, and he showed me the Queen’s cipher.  I took the letter, and, after partaking of some refreshments, returned with it, according to my orders.

On my arrival at Paris, the Princesse de Lamballe told me her motive for sending the express, who, she said, informed her, on his return, that I had a letter for the Queen.  I said it was more than I knew.  “Oh, I suppose that is because the letter bears no address,” replied she; “but you were shown the cipher, and that is all which is necessary.”

She did not take the letter, and I could not help remarking how far, in this instance, the rigour of etiquette was kept up, even between these close friends.  The Princess, not having herself received the letter, could not take it from my hands to deliver without Her Majesty’s express command.  This being obtained, she asked me for it, and gave it to Her Majesty.  The circumstance convinced me that the Princess exercised much less influence over the Queen, and was much more directed by Her Majesty’s authority, than has been imagined.