of all the troops.  In the meanwhile, Paris being so suspicious, were it not perhaps good to write your Foreign Ambassadors an ostensible Constitutional Letter; desiring all Kings and men to take heed that King Louis loves the Constitution, that he has voluntarily sworn, and does again swear, to maintain the same, and will reckon those his enemies who affect to say otherwise?  Such a Constitutional circular is despatched by Couriers, is communicated confidentially to the Assembly, and printed in all Newspapers; with the finest effect. (Moniteur, Seance du 23 Avril, 1791.) Simulation and dissimulation mingle extensively in human affairs.

We observe, however, that Count Fersen is often using his Ticket of Entry; which surely he has clear right to do.  A gallant Soldier and Swede, devoted to this fair Queen;—­as indeed the Highest Swede now is.  Has not King Gustav, famed fiery Chevalier du Nord, sworn himself, by the old laws of chivalry, her Knight?  He will descend on fire-wings, of Swedish musketry, and deliver her from these foul dragons,—­if, alas, the assassin’s pistol intervene not!

But, in fact, Count Fersen does seem a likely young soldier, of alert decisive ways:  he circulates widely, seen, unseen; and has business on hand.  Also Colonel the Duke de Choiseul, nephew of Choiseul the great, of Choiseul the now deceased; he and Engineer Goguelat are passing and repassing between Metz and the Tuileries; and Letters go in cipher,—­one of them, a most important one, hard to decipher; Fersen having ciphered it in haste. (Choiseul, Relation du Depart de Louis xvi. (Paris, 1822), p. 39.) As for Duke de Villequier, he is gone ever since the Day of Poniards; but his Apartment is useful for her Majesty.

On the other side, poor Commandment Gouvion, watching at the Tuileries, second in National Command, sees several things hard to interpret.  It is the same Gouvion who sat, long months ago, at the Townhall, gazing helpless into that Insurrection of Women; motionless, as the brave stabled steed when conflagration rises, till Usher Maillard snatched his drum.  Sincerer Patriot there is not; but many a shiftier.  He, if Dame Campan gossip credibly, is paying some similitude of love-court to a certain false Chambermaid of the Palace, who betrays much to him:  the Necessaire, the clothes, the packing of the jewels, (Campan, ii. 141.)—­could he understand it when betrayed.  Helpless Gouvion gazes with sincere glassy eyes into it; stirs up his sentries to vigilence; walks restless to and fro; and hopes the best.

But, on the whole, one finds that, in the second week of June, Colonel de Choiseul is privately in Paris; having come ‘to see his children.’  Also that Fersen has got a stupendous new Coach built, of the kind named Berline; done by the first artists; according to a model:  they bring it home to him, in Choiseul’s presence; the two friends take a proof-drive in it, along the streets; in meditative