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[19] the attempt to assassinate Louis Philippe, as he was going to Neuilly, had been received by telegraph a couple of days before, but as nothing had come since, everybody was curious to know the details. The Prince opened his packet at once, but found little news in it, as it was sent off immediately after the event. It contained, however, the name of the assassin, Alibaud, and the fact that he was a native of Nismes, and twenty-five years old; this being all M. d'appony had been able to cater in the first moments of the arrest.

But there was a newspaper in the parcel, which the Prince sent immediately round to the Princess, and desired her to read aloud from it what was marked in pencil with red. It turned out to be Lord Melbourne's trial in the case of Mrs. Norton. She read on for a moment or two, and then casting her eye forward, said, ‘But there are things here, Clement, that are not to be read,—Mais il y a des choses ici, Clement, qui ne se lisent pas.’ ‘Well,’ said he, laughing, ‘read us the end at least; let us know what the decision was; you can read that.’ She turned to it and read the acquittal. The Premier made no remark about it, nor did anybody else, though I knew he was very anxious to have another result; but he turned to me, and asked if our laws in America on such matters resembled the English laws, and continued the conversation on this subject till the dinner was over.

His dislike of Lord Melbourne's administration is very great and notorious. Mr. Forbes told me that, as British Charge d'affaires at Vienna, he communicated officially to Metternich the fact of its formation, and that the Prince received the notice with great indignation. If Lord Melbourne had been convicted he must have gone out, and perhaps the Ministry would have been entirely dissolved,—an event which would have diminished, I am sure, the Prince's disgust at the present state of Europe. But when the Princess announced the acquittal, he received it as a thing perfectly indifferent.

In the saloon we found three or four gentlemen waiting, and among the rest Naumann, whom I met at Baron Lerchenfeld's yesterday. Coffee was served, . . . . and general conversation followed. The Prince sat down in the window, and, taking up Lord Melbourne's trial, seemed to lose all consciousness of anything else. The Princess showed me the pictures in the saloon and a magnificent porcelain vase, with a portrait of the late Emperor of Austria, presented recently to her husband by the Emperor of Russia. She was very pleasant; but it was now eight o'clock, the company was separating, I had been there five hours, and it was time to go.


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