To this end he
sallied forth alone, and even condescended to take his dinner at
Vefour's celebrated restaurant. The evening was unusually dark, and
while returning to his house across the open space at the back of the
Tuileries (La Place de Carousal), he felt his shoulder suddenly
grasped by a strong hand, and in another instant a poniard was
plunged more than once into his breast, with the words, 'Die,
Capet!' [*] Fortunately, the intended victim wore inside his
coat a medal of the Virgin, which had belonged, it was understood, to
Marie Antoinette, his mother; this, receiving the point of the
dagger, preserved his life, though several flesh wounds were
inflicted. The assassin fled; nor did the duke make any alarm for
fear of being obliged to appear at the municipal guardhouse, and thus
get into the power of the government. When he reached home, he was
faint from loss of blood, and kept his bed for a fortnight.

[Footnote: _Meurs, Capet!_--Capet is the family name of the Bourbons,
as Guelph is that of the House of Brunswick.]

The suspicions of foul-play entertained by his 'court' were
confirmed; they regarded the bravo as an emissary of the government,
and the _'Meurs, Capet!'_ as an acknowledgment of the duke's right to
the crown! There were, however, ill-natured people who went about
hinting that, as the victim was quite alone, and became the teller of
his own story, the diabolical deed _might_ have been done by himself,
to strengthen the faith of his followers. Nor were these sceptics
silenced when the gashes in the coat, the dents in the medal, and the
blood of the royal sufferer was pointed out. But upon the whole,
whether true or false, the circumstance materially strengthened the
duke's position; and, on recovery, he began to play the prince in
earnest.

He wrote to the Duchess of Berri, and to 'his sister' the Duchess of
Angouleme. To the latter he offered to prove his identity in the
following manner: 'When in the Temple,' he said, 'our royal mother
and our aunt wrote several lines on a paper, which paper was cut in
halves. One piece was given to you, and when we meet I will produce
its fellow, which has never been out of my possession since our fatal
separation.' The truth of this was never put to the test, for no
answer was deigned to his letter.

At length the state in which the Duke of Normandy lived, the constant
visits of his increasing partisans, and his general proceedings,
attracted the attenti