r,
dated "Madrid," and charged him, thereupon, with this present commission.

At this recital I felt a mixture of anger and compassion, and I did not
constrain myself with Biron. I had no letters from my son, because I
used to burn them, as I did all useless papers. I charged Biron to say
to M. le Duc d'Orleans a part of what I felt; that I had not the
slightest acquaintance with anybody in Spain; that I begged him at once
to despatch a courier there in order to satisfy himself that my son was
at Besancon.

Biron, shrugging his shoulders, said all that was very good, but that if
I could find a letter from the Marquis de Ruffec it would be much better;
adding, that if one turned up and I sent it to him, he would take care
that it reached M. le Duc d'Orleans, at table, in spite of the privacy of
his suppers. I did not wish to return to the Palais Royal to make a
scene there, and dismissed Biron. Fortunately, Madame de Saint-Simon
came in some time after. I related to her this adventure. She found the
last letter of the Marquis de Ruffec, and we sent it to Biron. It
reached the table as he had promised. M. le Duc d'Orleans seized it with
eagerness. The joke is that he did not know the handwriting. Not only
did he look at the letter, but he read it; and as he found it diverting,
regaled his company with it; it became the topic of their discourse, and
entirely removed his suspicions. Upon my return from La Ferme, I found
him ashamed of himself, and I rendered him still more so by what I said
to him on the subject.

I learnt afterwards that this Madrid letter, and others that followed,
came from a sham Marquis de Ruffec, that is to say, from the son of one
of Madame's porters, who passed himself off as my son. He pretended that
he had quarrelled with me, and wrote to Madame de Saint-Simon, begging
her to intercede for him; and all this that his letters might be seen,
and that he might reap substantial benefits from his imposture in the
shape of money and consideration. He was a well-made fellow, had much
address and effrontery, knew the Court very well, and had taken care to
learn all about our family, so as to speak within limits. He was
arrested at Bayonne, at the table of Dadoncourt, who commanded there, and
who suddenly formed the resolution, suspecting him not to be a gentleman,
upon seeing him eat olives with a fork! When in gaol he confessed who he
was. He was not new at the trade and was confined som