On the occasion of this last visit--the third, I think, that he
paid me--the King, who had been staying at Chantilly, came to me
from Lusarche, where he lay the intervening night. My coaches
went to meet him at the gates a little before noon, but he did
not immediately arrive, and being at leisure and having assured
myself that the dinner of twelve covers, which he had directed to
be ready, was in course of preparation, I went with my wife to
inspect his rooms and satisfy myself that everything was in
order.
They were in charge of La Trape, a man of address and
intelligence, whom I have had cause to mention more than once in
the course of these memoirs. He met me at the door and conducted
us through the rooms with an air of satisfaction; nor could I
find the slightest fault, until my wife, looking about her with a
woman's eye for minute things, paused by the bed in the chamber,
and directed my attention to something on the floor.
She stooped over it. "What is this?" she asked. "Has something
been--"
"Upset here?" I said, looking also.
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