inasmuch as they had but one sentiment in common upon what had occurred.
In this gallery, and in the salon, there were always during the night
several beds, in which, for security's sake, certain Swiss guards and
servants slept. These beds had been put in their usual place this
evening before the bad news came from Meudon. In the midst of the
conversation of the ladies, Madame de Castries touched the bed, felt
something move, and was much terrified. A moment after they saw a sturdy
arm, nearly naked, raise on a sudden the curtains, and thus show them a
great brawny Swiss under the sheets, half awake, and wholly amazed. The
fellow was a long time in making out his position, fixing his eyes upon
every face one after the other; but at last, not judging it advisable to
get up in the midst of such a grand company, he reburied himself in his
bed, and closed the curtains. Apparently the good man had gone to bed
before anything had transpired, and had slept so soundly ever since that
he had not been aroused until then. The saddest sights have often the
most ridiculous contrasts. This caused some of the ladies to laugh, and
Madame d'Orleans to fear lest the conversation should have been
overheard. But after reflection, the sleep and the stupidity of the
sleeper reassured her.

I had some doubts yet as to the event that had taken place; for I did not
like to abandon myself to belief, until the word was pronounced by some
one in whom I could have faith. By chance I met D'O, and I asked him.
He answered me clearly that Monseigneur was no more. Thus answered, I
tried not to be glad. I know not if I succeeded well, but at least it is
certain, that neither joy nor sorrow blunted my curiosity, and that while
taking due care to preserve all decorum, I did not consider myself in any
way forced to play the doleful. I no longer feared any fresh attack from
the citadel of Meudon, nor any cruel charges from its implacable
garrison. I felt, therefore, under no constraint, and followed every