d the well-known friend of Louis XVIII., had been one of the
most active instruments of the restoration, and she it was who had first
unfolded again in France the banner of the Bourbons--the white flag. A
few days before the entrance of the prince, she had gone, with a number
of her royalist friends, into the streets, in order to excite the people
to some enthusiasm for the legitimate dynasty. But the people and the
army had still preserved their old love for the emperor, and the
proclamation of Prince Schwartzenberg, read by Bauvineux in the streets,
was listened to in silence. True, the royalists cried, _"Vive le roi!"_
at the end of this reading, but the people remained indifferent
and mute.

This sombre silence alarmed Countess Ducayla; it seemed to indicate a
secret discontent with the new order of things. She felt that this
sullen people must be inflamed, and made to speak with energy and
distinctness. To awaken enthusiasm by means of words and proclamations
had been attempted in vain; now the countess determined to attempt to
arouse them by another means--to astonish them by the display of a
striking symbol--to show them the white flag of the Bourbons!

She gave her companion, Count de Montmorency, her handkerchief, that he
might wave it aloft, fastening it to the end of his cane, in order that
it should be more conspicuous. This handkerchief of Countess Ducayla,
fastened to the cane of a Montmorency, was the first royalist banner
that fluttered over Paris, after a banishment of twenty years. The
Parisians looked at this banner with a kind of reverence and shuddering
wonder; they did not greet it with applause; they still remained silent,
but they nevertheless followed the procession of royalists, who marched
to the boulevards, shouting, _"Vive le roi!"_ They took no part in their
joyful demonstration, but neither did they attempt to prevent it.

This demonstration of the royalists, and particularly of the royalist
ladies, transcended the bounds of propriety, and of their own dignity.
In their fanaticism for the legitimate dynasty, they gave the allies a
reception, which almost assumed the character of a declaration of love,
on the part of the fair ladies of the Faubourg St. Germain, for all the
soldiers and officers of the allied army. In a strange confusion of
ideas, these warriors, who had certainly entered France as enemies,
seemed to these fair ones to be a part of the beloved Bourbons; and they
loved them