e le roi_!"

Embarking at Leghorn, he landed in Spain, and without staying to pay
his respects to the king at Madrid hurried on to Portugal, where he
fell in love with the Princess Benedectine. This damsel, who was fair
as a _houri_, had, he declared, returned his affection, and the Queen
of Portugal had favoured his addresses; but as his friends were about
to get up a revolution (that of the 18th Fructidor) on his behalf, he
was compelled to leave his betrothed and hurry back to France. The
pro-royalist movement having failed, he was forced to conceal himself,
and to save himself by a second flight to England. But robbers, as
well as soldiers, barred his way, and, after being stripped by a troop
of bandits, he at last succeeded in reaching Chalons and his most
attentive audience.

As it was known to those present that he had been imprisoned in
Chalons as a rogue, and had condescended subsequently to accept the
hospitality of the tailor of St. Lo, it was necessary to give some
slight explanation of circumstances which were so untoward. But his
ingenuity was not at fault, and the audacity of his story even helped
to satisfy his dupes. He admitted that when he was examined before the
authorities he had acknowledged Hervagault as his father; but he
declared that he had done so simply to escape from the rage of his
enemies, who were anxious to destroy him; and he considered that the
tailor, who had accepted royalist gold in exchange for a son, was both
bound to protect and recognise him.

There was no doubting. Those who listened were convinced. The king had
come to take his own again; and Louis XVII. was the hero of the hour.
Royalist vied with royalist in doing him service, and the ladies, who
loved him for his beauty, pitied him for his misfortunes, and admired
him for his devotion to the Princess Benedectine, were the foremost in
endeavouring to restore him to his rights. Like devout Frenchwomen
their first thought was to procure for him the recognition of the
church, and they persuaded the cure of Somepuis to invite their
protege to dinner. The village priest gladly did so, inasmuch as the
banquet was paid for by other folks than himself; but, being a jovial
ecclesiastic, he failed to perceive the true dignity of this
descendant of St. Louis, and even went so far as to jest with the royal
participant of his hospitality, somewhat rudely remarking that "the
prince had but a poor appetite, considering that he belonged