Early in December, Des Pruneaux wrote from Paris to Count Maurice, urging with some asperity, the necessity of immediate action.
"When I left you," he said, "I thought that performance would follow promises.

I have been a little ashamed, as the time passed by, to hear nothing of the deputies, nor of any excuse on the subject.

It would seem as though God had bandaged the eyes of those who have so much cause to know their own adversity." To the States his language was still more insolent.

"Excuse me, Gentlemen," he said, "if I tell you that I blush at hearing nothing from you.

I shall have the shame and you the damage.