72 MEMOIES OF A PHYSICIAN. " But in that case, Duke, we must have peace in the interior; let there not be war everywhere. ' "But the interior is quiet, Sire," replied the duke, affecting not to understand. " No ' no ! you see plainly it is not. You love me and serve me well. Others say they love me, and their con- duct does not at all resemble yours. Let there be con- cord between all shades of opinioa; let me live hap- *^ittaf not ""my fault, Sire, if your happiness is not "™$_.Ms the way to speak. Well! come, then, aud dine with me to-day." "At Versailles, Sire?" "No; at Luciennes." . "I regret exceedingly, Sire, that I cannot, but my family is in great ala-m on account of the reports which were spread yesterday. They think I am in dis- grace with your Majesty, and I cannot let so many loving hearts suffer." __.»»_,'. " And do those of whom I speak not suffer, Duke? Remember how happily we three used to live together in the time of the poor marchioness." The duke dropped his head, his eyes dimmed, and he uttered a half suopressed sigh." "Madame de Pompadour was extremely jealous of your Majesty's glory, and had lofty political ideas, Sire. I confess that her character sympathized strong- ly with my own. I often emulated and strove along with her in the great enterprises she undertook; yes, we understood each other." " But she meddled with politics, Duke, and every one blamed her for it." "True." " The present one, on the contrary, is mild as a lamb; she has never yet asked me for a single lettre-de-cachet, even against the pamphleteers and sonnet writers. Well, they reproach her as if she followed in the other's footsteps. Oh, Duke! it is enough to disgust one with progress. Come, will you make your peace at Lucien- nes?" " Sire, deign to assure the Countess Dubarry that I esteem her as a charming vronian, and well worthy of the king's love, but-----•" "Ah! a but, Duke—-" "But," continued M. de Choiseul, "that my convic- tion is, that if your Majesty is necessary for the wel- fare of France, a good minister is of more importance to your Majesty in the present juncture than a charm- ing mistress." " Let us speak no more of it, Duke, and let us remain good friends. But calm Madame de Grammont, and let her not lay any more plots against the countess; the women will embroil us. "Madime de Grammont, Sire, is too anxious to please your Majesty; that is her failing." " But she displeases me by annoying the countess, Duke." "Well, Madame de Grammont is going, Sire; we shall sea her no more. That will be an enemy less." " I did not mean that; you go too far. But my head bjirns, Duke; we have worked this morning like Louis XIV. and Colbert—quite in the style "of the Grand Siècle, as the philosophers say. Apropos, Duke, are you a philosopher?" "lam your Majesty's humble servant," replied M. de Choiseul. "You charm me; you are an invaluable man. Give me your arm, I am quite giddy." The duke hastened to offer his arm to his majesty. He guessed that the folding-doors would be thrown open, that the whole court was in the gallery, and that he should be seen in this triumphant position. After having suffered so much, ha was not sorry to make his enemies suffer in their turn. The usher in fact now opened the doors, and an- nounced the king in the gallery. "Louis XV. crossed the gallery, leaning heavily on M. de Choiseul's arm, talking and smiling, without re- marking, or seeming to remark, how pale Jean Du- barry was. and how red M. de Richelieu. But M. de Choiseul saw these shades of expression very well. With elastic step, lofty head, and sparkling eyes, he passed before the courtiers, who now ap- proached as eagerly as they had before kept away. " There," said the king, at the end of the gallery, " wait for me, I will take you with me to Trianon. Remember what I have told you." "I have treasured it up in my heart," replied the minister, well knowing what a sting this cutting sen- tence would inflict on his enemies. The king once more entered his apartments. M. de Richelieu broke the file, and hastened to press the minister's hand between his meagre fingers, ex- claiming: "It is long since I knew that a Choiseul bears a charmed life. " Thank you, " said the duke, who knew how the land lay. " But this absurd report," continued the marshal. " The report made his majesty laugh very heartily," said Choiseul. " I heard something of a letter-----" "A little mystification of the king's," replied the minister, glancing while he spoke at Jean, who lost countenance. "Wonderful! wonderfull" repeated the marshal, turning to the viscount as soon as the Duke de Choiseul was out of sight. The king ascended the staircase, calling the duke, who eagerly followed him. " We have been played upon," said the marshal to Jean. " Where are they going?" " To the Little Trianon, to amuse themselves at our expense." " Hell and Furies!" exclaimed Jean. " Ah! excuse me, Marshal." " It is now my turn," said the latter. " We shall see if my plans are more successful than those of the countess." _ Chapter LXXVIII -Thu Little Trianon. When Louis XIV. had built Versailles, and had" felt the inconvenience of grandeur, when he saw the im- mense saloons full of guards, the ante-rooms thronged with courtiers, the corridors and entresols crowded with footmen, pages, and officers, he said to himself -f-4 Versailles was indeed what Louis XIV. had planned, and what Mansard, Le Brun, and Le Notre nad executed—the dwelling of a deity, but not of a man. Then the Grand Monarque, who deigned to be a man in his leisure moments, built Trianon that he might breathe more freely and enjoy a little retire- ment. But the sword of Achilles which had fatigued even Achilles himself, was an insupportable burden to his puny successor. Trianon, the miniature of Versailles, seemed yet too pompous to Louis XV. who caused the little Trianon, a pavilion oi sixty feet square, to be built by the architect Gabriel. • To the left of this building was erected an oblong square, without character and without ornament; this was the d"-ailing of the servants and officers of the household. It contained about ten lodgings for mas- ters', and had accommodation for fifty servants. This building still- remains entire, and is composed of a ground-floor, a first story, and attics. This ground- floor is protected by a paved moat which separates it from the planting, and all the windows in it, as well as those of the first floor, are grated. On the side next Trianon, the windows are those of a long corridor, hke that of a convent. Eight or nine doors opening from the corridor, gave admittance to the different suites of apartments, each consisting of an ante-room and two closets, one to the left, the other to the right, and of one, and sometimes two underground apartments, looking upon the inner court of the building. The upper story contains the kitchens, and the attics, the chambers of the domestics. Such is the little Trianon. Add to this a chapel about six or seven perches from the chateau, which we shall not describe, because there is no necessity for our doing so, and because it is too small to deserve our notice. The topography of the establishment is therefore as follows: a chateau looking with its large eyes upon the pa* and wood in front; and, on the left, looking to- wards the offices, which present to its gaze only the barred windows of the corridor, and the thickly trel- lised ones of the kitchen above. The path leading from the great Trianon, the pomp- ous residence of Louis XIV., to the little, was through a kitchen garden wh'ch connected the two residences by means of a wooden bridge. It was through this kitchen and fruit garden which La Quintinie had designed and planted, that Louis XV. conducted M. de Choiseul to the little Trianon, after the laborious council we have just mentioned. He wished to show him the improvements he had made in the new abode of the dauphin and the dauphiness. M. de Choiseul admired everything, and commented upon everything, with the sagacity of a courtier. He listened while the king told him that the little Trianon became every day more beautiful, more charming to live in; and the minister added that it would serve as his majesty's private residence. " The dauphiness," said he, "is rather wild yet, like all young Germans; she speaks French well, but she is afraid of a slight accent, which to French ears betrays the Austrian. At Trianon she will see only friends, and will speak only when she wishes. The result will be that she will speak well." ' I have already had. the honor to remark," said M. de Choiseul, " that her royal highness is accomplished, and requires nothing to makeher perfect." On tne way the two travellers found the dauphin standing motionless upon a lawn measuring the sun's altitude. M. de Chosieul bent low, but as the dauphin did not speak to him, he did not speak either. The king said, loud enough to be heard by his gcand- son: . " Louis is a finished scholar, but he is wrong thus to run his head against the sciences; his wife will have reason to complain of such conduct." " By no means, Sire," replied a low, soft voice issu- ing from a thicket. And the king saw the dauphiness running towards him. She had been talking to a man furnished with papers, compasses, and chalks. " Sire, " said the princess, " M. Mique, my architect." "Ah!" exclaimed the king; " then you too are bitten by that mania, Madame?" " Sire, it runs in the family." " You are going to build?" " I am going to improve this great park in which every one gets wearied." " Oh 1 oh ! my dear daughter, you speak too loud ; the dauphin might hear you." " It is a matter agreed upon between us, my father," replied the princess. "To be wearied?" " No, but to try to amuse ourselves." "'And so your Highness is going to build?" asked M. de Choiseul. " I intend making a garden of this park, my Lord Duke." "Ah! Poor Le Notre?" said the king. " Le Notre was a great man, Sire, for what was in vogue then, but for what I love-----" "What, do you love, Madame?" "Nature." " Ah! like the philosophers." "Or like the English.'1 " Good ! Say that before Choiseul, and you will have a declaration of war immediately. He will let loose upon you the sixty-four ships and forty frigates of his cousin, M. de Praslin." " Sire," said the dauphiness, " I am going to have a natural garden laid out here by Monsieur Robert, who is the cleverest man in the world in that particular branch of horticulture." " And what do you call a natural garden ?" asked the king. "I thought that trees, and flowers, and even fruit, such as I gathered as I came along, were natu"al objects." "Sire, you may walk a hundred yards in your grounds, and you will see nothing but straight alleys, or thickets cut off at an angle of forty-five degrees, as the dauphin says, or pieces of water wedded to lawns, which in their turn are wedded to perspectives, par- terres, or terraces." "Well, that is ugly, is it?" " It is not natural." "There is a little girl who loves nature!" said the king, with a jovial rather than a joyous air. " Well, come; what will you make of my Trianon?" "Rivers, cascades, bridges, grottoes, rocks, woods, ravines, houses, mountains, fields." "For dolls?" said the king. "Alas! Sire, for such kings as we shall be," replied the princess, without remarking the blush which over- spread her grandfather's face, and without perceiving that she fortold a sad truth for herself. "Then Jon will destroy; but what will you build?" " I shalt piererva the present buildings." "Ah! 7oi*T people may consider themselves fortu- nate tha* yon d*. not intend to lodge them in these woods and rivers you speak of, like Hurons, Esqui- maux, and Greenlanders. They would live a natural life there, and M. Rousseau would call them children of nature. Do that, my child, and the encyclopedists wiU adore you." " Sire, my servants would be too cold in sucn lodgings." "Where will you lodge them, then, if you destroy all? Not in the palace; there is scarcely room for you two there." " Sire, I shall keep the offices as they are." And the dauphiness pointed to the windows of the corridor which we have described. " What do I see there?" said the king, shading his eyes with his hand. " A woman, Sire," said M. de Choiseul. " A young lady whom I have taken into my house- hold," replied the dauphiness. " Mademoiselle de Taverney," said Choiseul, with his piercing glance. • "Ahl" said the king; "so you have the Taverneys here?" "Only Mademoiselle Taverney, Sire." " A charming girl! What do you make of her?" " My reader." "Very good," said the king, without taking his eye from the window through which Mademoiselle de Taverney, still pale from her illness, was looking very innocently, and without in the least suspecting that she was observed. " How pale she is," said M. de Choiseul. • " She was nearly killed on the 81st of May, my Lord Duke." .,__ - ,, _. "Indeed? Poor girl!" said the king. "That M. Big- lion deserves to be digraced." " She is quite convalescent again," said M. de Choi- seul. hastily. ¦ "Thanks to the goodness of Providence, my Lord." "Ah 1" said the king, " she has fled." "She has perhaps recognized your Majesty; she is very timid." " Has she been with you long?" "Since yesterday. Sire; I sent for her when I in- stalled myself here." ..... " What a melancholy abode for a young girl," said Louis. "That Gabriel was a clumsy rogue. He did not remember that the trees, as they grew, would con- ceal and darken this whole building." " But I assure you, Sire, that the apartments are verj tolerable." " That is impossible," said Louis XV. " Will your Majesty deign to convince yourself," said the dauphiness, anxious to do the honors of her palace. " Very well. Will you come, Choiseul?" "Sire, it is two o'clock. I have a parliamentary meeting at half-past two. I have only time to return to Versailles." "Well, Duke, go; and give those black gownsashike for me. Dauphiness, show me these little apartments if you please; I perfectly doat upon interiors." "Come, M. Mique," said the dauphiness to her archi- tect; " you will have an opportunity of profiting by the opinion of his majesty, who understands everything so Tlie king walked first, the dauphiness followed. They mounted the little flight of steps which led to the chapel, avoiding the entrance of the court-yard which was at one side. The door of the chapel is to the left, the staircase, narrow and unpretending, which leads to the corridor, on the right. "Who lives here?" asked Louis XV. "No one yet, Sire." " There is a key in the door of the first suite of apart» "Ah, yes; true. Mademoiselle de Taverney enters it to-day." " Here?" said the king, pointing to the door. "Yes, Sire." "And is she there at present? If so, let us no* enter." "Sire, she has just gone down: I saw her walking under the verandah of the court." "Then show me her apartments as a specimen." " As you please," replied the dauphiness. And ' she introduced the king into the principal apartment, which was preceded by an ante-room and two closets. Some articles of furniture which were already ar- ranged, several books, a piano-forte, and, above all, an enormous bouquet of the most beautiful flowers, which Mademoiselle de Taverney had placed in a Chinese vase, attracted the king's attention. "Ah!" said he, "what beautiful flowers! And yet you wish to change the garden. Who supplies your people with such splendid flowers? Do they keep some for you?" "It is in truth a beautiful bouquet." " The gardener takes good care of Mademoiselle de Taverney. Who is your gardener here?" "I do not know, Sire. M. de Jussieu undertook to prooure them for me." The king gave a curious glance around the apart- ments, looked again at the exterior, peeped into the court-yard, and went aw ay. His majesty crossed the park, and returned to the great Trianon, where his equipages were already in waiting for a hunt which was to take place after dinner, in carriages, from three till six o'clock. The dauphin was still measuring the sun's altitude. Chapter LXXIX. —The Conspiracy is Renewed. While the king, in order to re-assure M. de Choiseul and not to lose any time himself, was walking in Tria- non till the chase should commence, Luciennes was the centre of a reunion of frightened conspirators, who had flown swiftly to Madame Dubarry, like birds who have smelt the sportsman's powder. Jean and Marshal Richelieu, after having looked at each other ill humoredly for some time, were the first to take flight. The others were the usual herd of favorites, whom the certain disgrace of the Choiseuls had allured, whom his return to favor had alarmed, and who, no longer finding the minister there to fawn upon, had returned mechanically to Luciennes, to see if the tree was yet strong enough for them t« cling to as before. . ,. Madame Dubarry was taking a siesta after th« fatigues of her diplomacy and the deceptive tnump» which had crowned it, when Richelieu's carriage rolled into the court with the noise and swiftness of a whirl wind. . . " Mistress Dubarry is asleep," said Zamore. without moving. Jean sent Zamore rolling on the carpet with 8