nvite cousin Girard, too, for I owe him
something for what he has done for thee."

The young wife promised to return and see her husband. That evening at
the performance at the court she was seated in the same box with the
marquise de Laugeac; the king's glass was directed towards her the whole
time, and at the termination of the spectacle it was announced to her,
that she was to sleep at the chateau the next evening. The project was
never realized.

The next day, according to promise, the young wife went to Paris with
the valet. She informed her husband of the success which had befallen
her, and he appeared delighted. Dinner being ready, they seated
themselves at table, ate and drank. Girard began to laugh at his cousin
for his complaisance, when suddenly all desire to jest left him. He
experienced most horrible pains, and his cousin suffered as well as
himself. "Wretches!" said Gaubert to them, "did you think I would
brook dishonor? No, no! I have deceived you both the better to wreak my
vengeance. I am now happy. Neither king nor valet shall ever possess my
wife. I have poisoned you, and you must die." The two victims implored
his pity. "Yes," said he to his wife, "thy sufferings pain me, and I
will free you from them." e then plunged a knife to her heart; and,
turning to Girard, said, "As for thee, I hate thee too much to kill
thee; die." And he left him.

The next day M. de Sartines came and told me the whole story. He had
learnt them from the valet, who had survived his poisoning for some
hours. Gaubert could not be found, and it was feared that he would
attempt some desperate deed. No one dared mention it to the king, but
the captain of the guards and the first gentleman in waiting took every
possible precaution; and when Louis XV asked for the young female who
was to be brought to him, they told him that she had died of a violent
distemper. It was not until some days afterwards that the terror which
pervaded the chateau ceased. They had found the body of the unfortunate
Gaubert on the banks of the Seine.

In spite of what had passed, the duc de la Vrilliere had the impudence
to present himself to me. I treated him with disdain, reproaching him
and Laugeac for their conduct. He left me in despair, and wrote me the
following letter:--

"MADAME LA COMTESSE,-Your anger kills me. I am guilty, but not so much
so as you may imagine. The duty of my office compels me to do many
things which are disagreeable to me.