"Well, Sire, if my colleagues have not told you by this time how serious the case is, they are fools and liars."
"What is the matter with me in your opinion, Lamartinière? " the King inquired.
"Od's life! Sire, that is easy seen; Your Majesty has the small pox."
"And you say there is no hope of recovery?"
"No, I do not say that. Sire; a doctor never despairs. I only say this, that if Your Majesty is the most Christian King in anything more than name. Your Majesty should bethink you of your duties as a Christian."
"Very well," said the King. Then calling Madame du Barry, he went on:
"You hear, my sweet, I have the small-pox, and my condition is especially dangerous, first because of my age, and secondly because of my bad state of health in other respects. Lamartiniere has just reminded me that I am the most Christian King and the eldest son of the Church. It may be we shall have to part. I want to avoid a scene like that at Metz; so inform the Due d'Aiguillon of what I tell you, that he may make arrangements with you, if my state grows worse, for our separating without noise or scandal."
At the very time when the King was thus expressing himself, all the party of the Duc de Choiseul was beginning to make open complaint and accuse the Archbishop of weak complaisance, declaring that rather than incommode Madame du Barry he would let the King die without the sacraments of the Church.
These accusations soon reached the ears of Monsieur de Beaumont, who determined, in order to stop his enemies' mouths, to take up his residence at Versailles, in the house of the Lazarist Fathers. This he did at once to impress the public and to be in a position to choose the most favourable moment for fulfilling the ordinances of religion and sacrificing Madame du Barry only when the Monarch's condition should ■have become altogether desperate. It was on May 8th the Archbishop returned to Versailles and took up his abode there to await events.
Meantime scandalous scenes occurred at the King's bedside. The Cardinal de la Roche-Aymon agreed with the Archbishop of Paris in wishing everything to be managed without noise and publicity; but the Bishop of Carcassone thought otherwise, and was minded to play the zealot and revive the Metz incident. He proclaimed openly, "That the King ought to be confessed, the concubine expelled the Palace, the Canons of the Church obeyed; that the Monarch should afford an example to Europe and to the Christian land of France, which he had scandalized."
"And by what right do you impose advice on me?" demanded Monsieur de la Roche-Aymon angrily. The Bishop unfastened the pastoral cross from his neck and shoving it almost under the Prelate's nose:
"By the right this cross gives me," he said solemnly. "Learn, Monseigneur, to respect this right, and never suffer your King to die without the sacraments of the Church whose eldest son he is."
All this was said in the presence of Monsieur d'Aiguillon. Realizing all the scandal that must result from such a scene of disputation if it became public, he hurried to the King's bedside.
"Well, Duke," the Monarch asked him, "have you carried out my orders?"
"With regard to Madame du Barry you mean. Sire?"
"Precisely."
"I preferred to wait till they were repeated by your Majesty. I shall never be in too violent a hurry to part the King from those who love him."
"Thank you, Duke, but it has to be; take the poor Countess and conduct her quietly to your country estate of Rueil. I shall be grateful to Madame d'Aiguillon for any kindness she will be good enough to show her."
Despite these formal instructions Monsieur d'Aiguillon was unwilling even now to hurry the favourite's departure, and concealed her in the Château, announcing her final going for the next day, and in this way appeasing to some extent the claims of the ecclesiastical conscience.
After all it was a good thing the Duc d'Aiguillon had kept Madame du Barry at Versailles, for in the course of next day, May 4th, the King asked to see her once more with such eager insistance that the Duke at last admitted she was still at Versailles.
"Tell her to come here then, tell her to come here," cried the King excitedly,—
