The Ball at Sceaux | Page 4

the
anger of a rebuke. One of the King's most intimate advisers took an
opportunity of going up to the fortune-seeking Vendeen, and made him
understand by a keen and polite hint that the time had not yet come for
settling accounts with the sovereign; that there were bills of much
longer standing than his on the books, and there, no doubt, they would
remain, as part of the history of the Revolution. The Count prudently
withdrew from the venerable group, which formed a respectful
semi-circle before the august family; then, having extricated his sword,
not without some difficulty, from among the lean legs which had got
mixed up with it, he crossed the courtyard of the Tuileries and got into
the hackney cab he had left on the quay. With the restive spirit, which
is peculiar to the nobility of the old school, in whom still survives the
memory of the League and the day of the Barricades (in 1588), he
bewailed himself in his cab, loudly enough to compromise him, over
the change that had come over the Court. "Formerly," he said to
himself, "every one could speak freely to the King of his own little
affairs; the nobles could ask him a favor, or for money, when it suited
them, and nowadays one cannot recover the money advanced for his
service without raising a scandal! By Heaven! the cross of Saint-Louis
and the rank of brigadier-general will not make good the three hundred
thousand livres I have spent, out and out, on the royal cause. I must
speak to the King, face to face, in his own room."
This scene cooled Monsieur de Fontaine's ardor all the more effectually

because his requests for an interview were never answered. And,
indeed, he saw the upstarts of the Empire obtaining some of the offices
reserved, under the old monarchy, for the highest families.
"All is lost!" he exclaimed one morning. "The King has certainly never
been other than a revolutionary. But for Monsieur, who never derogates,
and is some comfort to his faithful adherents, I do not know what hands
the crown of France might not fall into if things are to go on like this.
Their cursed constitutional system is the worst possible government,
and can never suit France. Louis XVIII. and Monsieur Beugnot spoiled
everything at Saint Ouen."
The Count, in despair, was preparing to retire to his estate, abandoning,
with dignity, all claims to repayment. At this moment the events of the
20th March (1815) gave warning of a fresh storm, threatening to
overwhelm the legitimate monarch and his defenders. Monsieur de
Fontaine, like one of those generous souls who do not dismiss a servant
in a torrent of rain; borrowed on his lands to follow the routed
monarchy, without knowing whether this complicity in emigration
would prove more propitious to him than his past devotion. But when
he perceived that the companions of the King's exile were in higher
favor than the brave men who had protested, sword in hand, against the
establishment of the republic, he may perhaps have hoped to derive
greater profit from this journey into a foreign land than from active and
dangerous service in the heart of his own country. Nor was his
courtier-like calculation one of these rash speculations which promise
splendid results on paper, and are ruinous in effect. He was-- to quote
the wittiest and most successful of our diplomates--one of the faithful
five hundred who shared the exile of the Court at Ghent, and one of the
fifty thousand who returned with it. During the short banishment of
royalty, Monsieur de Fontaine was so happy as to be employed by
Louis XVIII., and found more than one opportunity of giving him
proofs of great political honesty and sincere attachment. One evening,
when the King had nothing better to do, he recalled Monsieur de
Fontaine's witticism at the Tuileries. The old Vendeen did not let such a
happy chance slip; he told his history with so much vivacity that a king,
who never forgot anything, might remember it at a convenient season.
The royal amateur of literature also observed the elegant style given to
some notes which the discreet gentleman had been invited to recast.

This little success stamped Monsieur de Fontaine on the King's
memory as one of the loyal servants of the Crown.
At the second restoration the Count was one of those special envoys
who were sent throughout the departments charged with absolute
jurisdiction over the leaders of revolt; but he used his terrible powers
with moderation. As soon as the temporary commission was ended, the
High Provost found a seat in the Privy Council, became a deputy, spoke
little, listened much, and changed his opinions very considerably.
Certain circumstances, unknown to historians, brought him into