ght something new was wrong in the rebellious troop of which she
had taken the command, and which gave her such trouble; but, as nothing
could make him forget the respect which, in public and in private, he
paid to his mother, he rose on seeing her, and after having bowed, and
taking her hand to lead her to a seat, he remained standing himself.

"Well, my son," said madame, with a strong German accent, "what is this
that I hear, and what happened to you last evening?"

"Last evening?" said the regent, recalling his thoughts and questioning
himself.

"Yes," answered the palatine, "last evening, in coming home from Madame
de Sabran's."

"Oh! it is only that," said the prince.

"How, only that! your friend Simiane goes about everywhere saying that
they wanted to carry you off, and that you only escaped by coming across
the roofs: a singular road, you will confess, for the regent of the
kingdom, and by which, however devoted they may be to you, I doubt your
ministers being willing to come to your council."

"Simiane is a fool, mother," answered the regent, not able to help
laughing at his mother's still scolding him as if he were a child, "it
was not anybody who wanted to carry me away, but some roisterers who had
been drinking at some cabaret by the Barriere des Sergents, and who were
come to make a row in the Rue des Bons Enfants. As to the road we
followed, it was for no sort of flight upon earth that I took it, but
simply to gain a wager which that drunken Simiane is furious at having
lost."

"My son, my son," said the palatine, shaking her head, "you will never
believe in danger, and yet you know what your enemies are capable of.
Believe me, my child, those who calumniate the soul would have few
scruples about killing the body; and you know that the Duchesse de Maine
has said, 'that the very day when she is quite sure that there is really
nothing to be made out of her bastard of a husband, she will demand an
audience of you, and drive her dagger into your heart.'"

"Bah! my mother," answered the regent, laughing, "have you become a
sufficiently good Catholic no longer to believe in predestination? I
believe in it, as you know. Would you wish me to plague my mind about a
danger which has no existence; or which, if it does exist, has its
result already inscribed in the eternal book? No, my mother, no; the
only use of all these exaggerated precautions is to sadden life. Let
tyrants tremble; but I, who am what St.