duct my son. This individual, half-Spanish and half-French, was
detained in the Paris prisons, and I was left in ignorance of the matter.
It was imprudent not to tell me, and almost occasioned a serious mishap.

One day I was returning from the neighbourhood of Etampes with only my
son, his tutor, and my physician in the carriage. On reaching a steep
incline, where the brake should be put on, my servants imprudently
neglected to do this, and I felt that we were burning the roadway in our
descent. Such recklessness made me uneasy, when suddenly twelve horsemen
rode headlong at us, and sought to stop the postilions. My six horses
were new ones and very fresh; they galloped along at breakneck speed. Our
pursuers fired at the coachman, but missed him, and the report of a
pistol terrified the horses yet further. They redoubled their speed. We
gave ourselves up for lost, as an accident of some sort seemed bound to
ensue, when suddenly my carriage reached the courtyard of an inn, where
we obtained help.

Baulked of their prey, the horsemen turned about and rode away. They had
been noticed the day before, hanging about and asking for Madame de
Montespan.

We stayed that night at the inn, and next day, provided with a stout
escort, we reached Saint Germain.

The King regretted not having provided against similar attempts. He
rewarded my postilions for their neglect to use the brake (a neglect
which, at first, I was going to punish), saying to me, "If they had put
the brake on, you would have been captured and whisked off to the
Pyrenees. Your husband is never going to give in!"

"Such a disagreeable surprise," added he, "shall not occur again.
Henceforth you shall not travel without an adequate escort. In future,
you shall have a guard of honour, like the Queen and myself." I had long
wished for this privilege, and I warmly thanked his Majesty.

Nevertheless, people chose to put a completely false construction upon so
simple an innovation, and my sentiments in the matter were wholly
misunderstood. It was thought that vanity had prompted me to endeavour
to put myself on a level with the Queen, and this worthy princess was
herself somewhat nettled thereat. God is my witness that, from mere
motives of prudence, this unusual arrangement had to be made, and I
entirely agreed to it. After all, if the Infanta of Spain gave birth to
the Dauphin, Athenais de Mortemart is the mother of several princes.

In France, a C