and, as if to put romance for ever out of
the question, I was relieved from my plumed and mantled encumbrance only
by the assistance of Townshend, then the prince of Bow Street officers;
who, knowing every thing and every body, informed me that the lady was a
person of prodigious rank, and that he should 'feel it his duty,' before
he parted with me, to ascertain whether her ladyship's purse had not
suffered defalcation by my volunteering.

I was indignant, as might be supposed; and my indignation was not at all
decreased by the coming up of half a dozen Bow Street officers, every one
of whom either "believed," or "suspected," or "knew," me to be "an old
offender." But I was relieved from the laughter of the liveried mob round
me, and probably from figuring in the police histories of the morning, by
the extreme terrors of the lady for the fate of her daughter. The carriage
had by this time been raised up, but its other inmate was not to be found.
She now produced the purse, which had been so impudently the cause of
impeaching my honour; "and offered its contents to all who should bring
any tidings of her daughter, her lost child, her Clotilde!" The name
thrilled on my ear. I flew off to renew the search, followed by the
crowd--was unsuccessful, and returned, only to see my _protege_ in strong
hysterics. My situation now became embarrassing; when a way was made
through the crowd by a highly-powdered personage, the chamberlain of the
mansion, who announced himself as sent by "her Grace," to say that the
Countess de Tourville was safe, having been taken into the house; and,
further, conveying "her Grace's compliments to Madame la Marechal de
Tourville, to entreat that she would do her the honour to join her
daughter." This message, delivered with all the pomp of a "gentleman of
the bedchamber," produced its immediate effect upon the circle of cocked
hats and worsted epaulettes. They grew grave at once; and guided by
Townshend, who moved on, hat in hand, and bowing with the obsequiousness
of one escorting a prince of the blood, we reached the door of the
mansion.

But here a new difficulty arose. The duchess was known to La Marechal, for
to whom in misfortune was not that most generous and kind-hearted duchess
known? But _I_ was still a stranger. However, with my old Frenchwoman,
ceremony was not then the prevailing point. _I_ had been her "preserver,"
as she was pleased to term me. _I_ had been "introduced," which was quite