I delivered Her Majesty’s letter.  Before she opened it, she exclaimed, “‘O Dio! tutto e perduto e troppo tardi’!  Oh, God! all is lost, it is too late!” I then gave her the cipher and the key.  In a few minutes I enabled her to decipher the letter.  On getting through it, she again exclaimed, “‘E tutto inutile’! it is entirely useless!  I am afraid they are all lost.  I am sorry you are so situated as not to allow of your remaining here to rest from your fatigue.  Whenever you come to Parma, I shall be glad to see you.”

She then took out her pocket handkerchief, shed a few tears, and said that, as circumstances were now so totally changed, to answer the letter might only commit her, her sister, and myself; but that if affairs took the turn she wished, no doubt, her sister would write again.  She then mounted her horse, and wished me a good journey; and I took leave, and set off for Rome.

I must confess that the conduct of the Duchess of Parma appeared to me rather cold, if not unfeeling.  Perhaps she was afraid of showing too much emotion, and wished to encourage the idea that Princesses ought not to give way to sensibility, like common mortals.

But how different was the conduct of the Queen of Naples!  She kissed the letter:  she bathed it with her tears!  Scarcely could she allow herself time to decipher it.  At every sentence she exclaimed, “Oh, my dear, oh, my adored sister!  What will become of her!  My brothers are now both no more!  Surely, she will soon be liberated!” Then, turning suddenly to me, she asked with eagerness, “Do you not think she will?  Oh, Marie, Marie! why did she not fly to Vienna?  Why did she not come to me instead of writing?  Tell me, for God’s sake, all you know!”

I said I knew nothing further of what had taken place at Paris, having travelled night and day, except what I had heard from the different couriers, which I had met and stopped on my route; but I hoped to be better informed by Sir William Hamilton, as all my letters were to be sent from France to Turin, and thence on to Sir William at Naples; and if I found no letters with him, I should immediately set off and return to Turin or Milan, to be as near France as possible for my speedy return if necessary.  I ventured to add that it was my earnest prayer that all the European Sovereigns would feel the necessity of interesting themselves for the Royal Family of France, with whose fate the fate of monarchy throughout Europe might be interwoven.

“Oh, God of Heaven!” cried the Queen, “all that dear family may ere now have been murdered!  Perhaps they are already numbered among the dead!  Oh, my poor, dear, beloved Marie!  Oh, I shall go frantic!  I must send for General Acton.”

Wringing her hands, she pulled the bell, and in a few minutes the general came.  On his entering the apartment, she flew to him like one deprived of reason.

“There!” exclaimed she.  “There!  Behold the fatal consequences!” showing him the letter.  “Louis XVI. is in the state of Charles the First of England, and my sister will certainly be murdered.”