nger that his voice was heard by people outside.

But he had of late heaped fault on fault. Besides setting Madame de
Maintenon and the Duchesse de Bourgogne against him, he rather wantonly
irritated Monseigneur, at that time more than ever under the government
of Mademoiselle Choin. The latter had asked him a favour, and had been
refused even with contempt. Various advances at reconciliation she made
were also repulsed with contumely. Yet every one, even the Duchesse de
Bourgogne, crawled before this creature--the favourite of the heir to the
throne. Madame de Maintenon actually caused the King to offer her
apartments at Versailles, which she refused, for fear of losing the
liberty she enjoyed at Meudon. D'Antin, who saw all that was going on,
became the soul of a conspiracy against Chamillart. It was infinitely
well managed. Everything moved in order and harmony--always prudently,
always knowingly.

The King, quietly attacked on all hands, was shaken; but he had many
reasons for sticking to Chamillart. He was his own choice. No minister
had stood aside so completely, and allowed the King to receive all the
praise of whatever was done. Though the King's reason way, therefore,
soon influenced, his heart was not so easily. But Madame de Maintenon
was not discouraged. Monseigneur, urged by Mademoiselle Choin, had
already spoken out to the King. She laboured to make him speak again;
for, on the previous occasion, he had been listened to attentively.

So many machines could not be set in motion without some noise being
heard abroad. There rose in the Court, I know not what confused murmurs,
the origin of which could not be pointed out, publishing that either the
State or Chamillart must perish; that already his ignorance had brought
the kingdom within an ace of destruction; that it was a miracle this
destruction had not yet come to pass; and that it would be madness to
tempt Providence any longer. Some did not blush to abuse him; others
praised his intentions, and spoke with moderation of faults that many
people reproached him bitterly with. All admitted his rectitude, but
maintained that a successor of some kind or other was absolutely
necessary. Some, believing or trying to persuade others that they
carried friendship to as far a point as was possible, protested that they
should ever preserve this friendship, and would never forget the pleasure
and the services that they had received from Chamillart; bu