Intrigue of the comtesse d'Egmont with a shopman--His unhappy fate--The
comtesse du Barry protects him--Conduct of Louis XV upon the occasion--The
young man quits France--Madame du Barry's letter to the comtesse d'Egmont--
Quarrel with the marechal de Richelieu
The comtesse d'Egmont was one day observed to quit her house attired with the
most parsimonious simplicity; her head being covered by an enormously deep
bonnet, which wholly concealed her countenance, and the rest of her person
enveloped in a pelisse, whose many rents betrayed its long service. In this
strange dress she traversed the streets of Paris in search of adventures. She
was going, she said, wittily enough, "to return to the cits what her father and
brother had so frequently robbed them of." Chance having led her steps to the
rue St. Martin, she was stopped there by a confusion of carriages, which
compelled her first to shelter herself against the wall, and afterwards to take
refuge in an opposite shop, which was one occupied by a linen-draper.
She looked around her with the eye of a connoisseur, and perceived beneath the
modest garb of a shopman one of those broad-shouldered youths, whose open
smiling countenance and gently tinged complexion bespoke a person whose
simplicity of character differed greatly from the vast energy of his physical
powers: he resembled the Farnese Hercules upon a reduced scale. The princess
approached him, and requested to see some muslins, from which she selected
two gowns, and after having paid for them, requested the master of the shop to
send his shopman with them, in the course of half an hour, to an address she
gave as her usual abode.
The comtesse d'Egmont had engaged an apartment on the third floor of a house
in the rue Tiquetonne, which was in the heart of Paris. The porteress of the
dwelling knew her only as madame Rossin: her household consisted of a
housekeeper and an old man, both devoted to a mistress whose character they
well understood, and to whom they had every motive to be faithful.
Here it was, then, that the lady hastened to await the arrival of the new object of
her plebeian inclinations. Young Moireau (for such was the shopman's name)
was not long ere he arrived with his parcel. Madame d'Egmont was ready to
receive him: she had had sufficient time to exchange her shabby walking dress
for one which bespoke both coquetry and voluptuousness; the softness of her
smile, and the turn of her features announced one whose warmth of passions
would hold out the most flattering hopes of success to him who should seek her
love.
Madame Rossin and the young shopman were soon engaged in conversation,
further animated by the bright glances sent direct from the eyes of madame to
the unguarded heart of her admiring visitor. Emboldened by the graciousness of
her manner, he presumed to touch her fair hand: the lady, in affected anger,
rose, and commanded him to quit the house. The terrified youth fell at her feet,
imploring pardon for his boldness, and then hastily quitted the room ere the
feigned madame Rossin could pronounce the forgiveness he demanded. 'The
