opinion at the time, and I have always thought that the storm in
which he had like to have been cast away, and which forced him back
to the French coast, saved him from a much greater peril--that of
perishing in an attempt as full of extravagant rashness, and as void
of all reasonable meaning, as any of those adventures which have
rendered the hero of La Mancha immortal.

The Chevalier had now but one of these two things left him to do:
one was to return to Bar; the other was to go to Scotland, where
there were people in arms for him. He took this last resolution.
He left Brittany, where he had as many Ministers as there were
people about him, and where he was eternally teased with noisy
disputes about what was to be done in circumstances in which no
reasonable thing could be done. He sent to have a vessel got ready
for him at Dunkirk, and he crossed the country as privately as he
could.

Whilst all these things passed I remained at Paris to try if by any
means some assistance might be at last procured, without which it
was evident, even to those who flattered themselves the most, that
the game was up.

No sooner was the Duke of Ormond gone from Paris on the design which
I have mentioned, and Mrs. Trant, who had accompanied him part of
the way, returned, but I was sent for to a little house at Madrid,
in the Bois de Boulogne, where she lived with Mademoiselle de
Chaussery, the ancient gentlewoman with whom the Duke of Orleans had
placed her. These two persons opened to me what had passed whilst
the Duke of Ormond was here, and the hopes they had of drawing the
Regent into all the measures necessary to support the attempts which