ound exactly the same as
when I had seen them last in 1752, but I was struck with astonishment at
the daughter whom I had left a child, for she was now a tall and
well-shaped girl. Mdlle. Baletti was fifteen years old, and her mother
had brought her up with care, had given her the best masters, virtue,
grace, talents, a good manner, tact, a knowledge of society-in short, all
that a clever mother can give to a dear daughter.

After finding a pleasant lodging near the Baletti's, I took a coach and
went to the "Hotel de Bourbon" with the intention of calling on M. de
Bernis, who was then chief secretary for foreign affairs. I had good
reasons for relying on his assistance. He was out; he had gone to
Versailles. At Paris one must go sharply to work, and, as it is vulgarly
but forcibly said, "strike while the iron's hot." As I was impatient to
see what kind of a reception I should get from the liberal-minded lover
of my fair M---- M----, I went to the Pont-Royal, took a hackney coach,
and went to Versailles. Again bad luck!

Our coaches crossed each other on the way, and my humble equipage had not
caught his excellency's eye. M. de Bernis had returned to Paris with
Count de Castillana, the ambassador from Naples, and I determined to
return also; but when I got to the gate I saw a mob of people running
here and there in the greatest confusion, and from all sides I heard the
cry, "The king is assassinated! The king is assassinated!"

My frightened coachman only thought of getting on his way, but the coach
was stopped. I was made to get out and taken to the guard-room, where
there were several people already, and in less than three minutes there
were twenty of us, all under arrest, all astonished at the situation, and
all as much guilty as I was. We sat glum and silent, looking at each
other without daring to speak. I knew not what to think, and not
believing in enchantment I began to think I must be dreaming. Every face
expressed surprise, as everyone, though innocent, was more or less
afraid.

We were not left in this disagreeable position for long, as in five
minutes an officer came in, and after some polite apologies told us we
were free.

"The king is wounded," he said, "and he has been taken to his room. The
assassin, whom nobody knows, is under arrest. M. de la Martiniere is
being looked for everywhere."

As soon as I had got back to my coach, and was thinking myself lucky for
being there, a gentlemanly-looking yo