But he journeyed in vain. King James had remained hidden at Nonancourt,
where, charmed with the attentions of his generous post-mistress, who had
saved him from his assassins, he admitted to her who he was, and gave her
a letter for the Queen, his mother. He remained there three days, to
allow the hubbub to pass, and rob those who sought him of all hope; then,
disguised as an Abbe, he jumped into a post-chaise that Madame L'Hospital
had borrowed in the neighbourhood--to confound all identity--and
continued his journey, during which he was always pursued, but happily
was never recognised, and embarked in Brittany for Scotland.

Douglas, tired of useless searches, returned to Paris, where Stair kicked
up a fine dust about the Nonancourt adventure. This he denominated
nothing less than an infraction of the law of nations, with an extreme
audacity and impudence, and Douglas, who could not be ignorant of what
was said about him, had the hardihood to go about everywhere as usual; to
show himself at the theatre; and to present himself before M. le Duc
d'Orleans.

This Prince ignored as much as he could a plot so cowardly and so
barbarous, and in respect to him so insolent. He kept silence, said to
Stair what he judged fitting to make him be silent likewise, but gave
liberty to his English assassins. Douglas, however, fell much in the
favour of the Regent, and many considerable people closed their doors to
him. He vainly tried to force mine. But as for me I was a perfect
Jacobite, and quite persuaded that it was the interest of France to give
England domestic occupation, which would long hinder her from thinking of
foreign matters. I then, as may be supposed, could not look upon the
odious enterprise with a favourable eye, or pardon its authors. Douglas
complained to me of my disregard for him, but to no purpose. Soon after
he disappeared from Paris. I know not what became of him afterwards.