been revealed to him in a vision. The
question of identity was considered solved, the whole party proceeded
to the church to return thanks for the revelation which had been made,
and the village bells were rung to celebrate the auspicious event. The
noble ladies who were attached to the pretender influenced the
priests, the priests influenced the peasantry, and Martin, the
clairvoyant and quack, exerted a powerful influence over all. Money
was wanted, and contributions flowed in abundantly, until the
so-called Duke of Normandy found his coffers filling at the rate of
fifty thousand pounds a-year.

Thus suddenly enriched, he set up a magnificent establishment in
Paris. His horses and carriages were among the most splendid in the
Champs Elysees, his banquets were equal to those of Lucullus, his name
was in every mouth, and people wondered why the government did not
interpose. They were afraid, said some, to touch the sacred person of
the man they knew to be king; they did not care to meddle with an
obvious impostor, whose crest was a _broken_ crown, said others; but
his partizans maintained that their silence was more dangerous than
their open enmity, and that the crafty Louis Philippe had given orders
that his rival should be assassinated. They declared that this was no
mere supposition, for late on one November evening, when the duke was
returning to his quarters in the Faubourg St. Germain, across the Place
du Carrousel, a dastardly assassin sprang upon him and stabbed him
with a dagger. Fortunately for the illustrious victim he wore a
medallion of his sainted mother, Marie-Antoinette, and the metal disc
caught the point of the weapon, and received the full force of the
blow; but nevertheless a slight wound was inflicted, and the duke
staggered home wounded and bleeding. He was too confused to report the
circumstance at any of the guard-houses which he passed, but in his
own mansion he showed the dint of the cowardly blade, and the cut on
his flesh. It was disgraceful, cried his adherents; it was ridiculous,
said his opponents; and they did not hesitate to add, that if blow
there had been it was self-inflicted.

But if the calumny was intended to destroy the faith of Nauendorff's
partizans, it failed in its effect. Their zeal waxed hotter than ever;
their contributions flowed even more freely than before into his
treasury; and they conceived the idea of solacing his misfortunes by
providing him with a wife. Unfortuna