mself with the latter; but coming as it
would from M. de Noailles, he had nothing to fear. M. de Vendome, once
general of an army, could no longer serve in any other quality; and would
act as a stepping-stone for M. du Maine.

From this moment M. de Noailles returned more than ever into the good
graces of the King. Everything happened as it had been arranged. But
the secret was betrayed in the execution. Surprise was felt that at the
same moment M. de Noailles sent a request to be recalled, he also sent,
and without waiting for a reply, to call M. de Vendame to the command.
What completely raised the veil were the letters patent that he sent
immediately after to M. de Vendome, and that it was known he could not
have received from the King in the time that had elapsed. M. de Noailles
returned from Catalonia, and was received as his address merited. He
feigned being lame with rheumatism, and played the part for a long time,
but forgot himself occasionally, and made his company smile. He fixed
himself at the Court, and gained there much more favour than he could
have gained by the war; to the great vexation of Barbezieux.

M. de Luxembourg very strangely married his daughter at this time to the
Chevalier de Soissons (an illegitimate son of the Comte de Soissons),
brought out from the greatest obscurity by the Comtesse de Nemours, and
adopted by her to spite her family: M. de Luxembourg did not long survive
this fine marriage. At sixty-seven years of age he believed himself
twenty-five, and lived accordingly. The want of genuine intrigues, from
which his age and his face excluded him, he supplied by money-power; and
his intimacy, and that of his son, with the Prince de Conti and
Albergotti was kept up almost entirely by the community of their habits,
and the secret parties of pleasure they concocted together. All the
burden of marches, of orders of subsistence, fell upon a subordinate.
Nothing could be more exact than the coup d'oeil of M. de Luxembourg--
nobody could be more brilliant, more sagacious, more penetrating than he
before the enemy or in battle, and this, too, with an audacity, an ease,
and at the same time a coolness, which allowed him to see all and foresee
all under the hottest fire, and in the most imminent danger: It was at
such times that he was great. For the rest he was idleness itself. He
rarely walked unless absolutely obliged, spent his time in gaming, or in
conversation With his familiars