‘That circumstance, my dear Achille, never presents itself to my mind without reviving my regret at having allowed to escape one of the rare opportunities which offered themselves in one’s young days. Everything in the way of creating for oneself a career, of making a friend, even a female friend, depends upon a moment. The goddess of chance must be caught by the forelock as she rushes past; our regrets have no effect upon her when we have neglected her momentary proximity to us, I shall tell you how it happened. I had been living for something like two months at Raincy, where M. Ouvrard,[89] then at the height of his fortune, had offered me a couple of rooms in the building belonging to the fire engine. I was only seventeen; you are acquainted with the circumstances which at that period brought me into contact at such a youthful age with the whole of the society of what I must call “rejuvenated France.” I had received an invitation to a dinner given by M. Davencourt, the newly appointed “Captain-General of the Hunt,” in honour of his new functions. It took place in a kind of Russian hut built in the park, and at the end of a hunt. The other guests were MM. de Talleyrand, de Montrond,[90] Ouvrard; Admiral Bruix; Generals Lannes and Berthier. The only woman present was Mme. Grant, who subsequently married the Prince de Talleyrand. In spite of the many elements of interest and the clever guests, the conversation slackened; to give it a fillip, Ouvrard asked me how I had managed on the previous day to get back to Paris, my horse having got hurt while out hunting, and there being by a strange coincidence no other animal left in the stable.
* * * * *
‘In a very simple way,’ I replied. ‘As you said just now, there was not a horse to be had for love or money, and I had to be in Paris at three to meet Mme. Récamier, whom I would not have missed for anything, inasmuch as she was about to leave the capital immediately. When there is no chance of a horse or a carriage, the simplest means is to walk, so I made up my mind to foot it. It was very hot, but at twelve o’clock I got into the plain about midway between Bondy and Pantin. I felt thoroughly knocked up, and, moreover, literally as hungry as a hunter; I stopped at a mill near the high road, and asked them to get me some breakfast. While it was being prepared, I began to think of my second want, and asked the miller if there was no means of getting a horse. “There is mine,” he replied, “and for a crown of six francs it’s at your service. It will take you very comfortably, and to-morrow, when I get to Paris, I’ll come and fetch it from your house.” The courser was brought to the door; it was about as high as an ass, and in fact performed the duties of one; it had no other equipment than a pack-saddle.
‘“How am I to get on to that?” I said to the miller. “Haven’t you got a riding-saddle? But there is one hanging on the wall.”
‘“Oh, that’s my own saddle, my brand-new English saddle, and I don’t let it out for hire, monsieur.”
‘In vain did I insist, and beg, and persuade. The miller was obstinate, and I might have saved my breath. I beheld myself riding through the streets of Paris perched on that lamentable pack-saddle, which had never carried anything but flour or manure. Assuredly the horse was of no use to me without the saddle. “Now, gentlemen,” I said, interrupting my story and addressing my fellow-guests, “what would you have done in view of the miller’s obstinacy?” Then I appealed to each in particular. “You, Monsieur Ouvrard, who, in virtue of your administrative capacities, admired by everybody, sustain our military glory by looking to the inner comforts of our soldiers? You, Davencourt, who, in spite of all the ruses of the fox, put on its scent a dozen packs after they have lost it? You, Monsieur l’Amiral, who brave both the storm and the guns of the enemy? You, Generals Berthier and Lannes, who in Italy and in Egypt proved yourselves the Parmenios of the new Alexander? And finally you, Monsieur de Talleyrand, who as our Minister of Foreign Affairs have shown and continue to show your profound observation of men and things:—what would you have done to get hold of the saddle the miller refused to lend at any price?” There was no answer, they only laughed. “May I remind you,” I said, “that laughter scarcely contributes a reply. I have, however, already discovered the master of all of you,” I went on, turning to Mme. Grant. “Her smile shows me that she has guessed my last resource. Yes, madame, you guessed rightly; I appealed to the miller’s wife, and with a few carefully chosen words, managed to enlist her sympathy. The new saddle, the horse, and the mill if I had been in need of it, were finally at my disposal. Such, in the cottage as in the palace, is the power of feminine influence.”
* * * * *
‘No sooner had I finished my break-neck story than loud applause broke forth, followed by the drinking of my health and to the result of my negotiation. Encouraged by everybody’s approval, I began to talk, like the boy I was, right and left, and my remarks were evidently relished by Mme. Grant. M. de Talleyrand, who at that period was very much in love with her, because, as he said, she had everything that completed the charm of a woman, namely, a soft skin, a sweet breath, and a sweet temper—M. de Talleyrand seemed equally pleased with me. The rest of the guests followed his lead, considering it easier to adopt the opinion of a clever man than to go to the trouble of making one for themselves.
‘When we left the table, M. de Talleyrand beckoned me to a corner of the room and talked to me for a considerable time. He seemed to enjoy the account of my travels in Sweden and in Denmark. The description of the shelling of Copenhagen, at which I was present, interested him. My remarks on all those countries, on the émigrés in Hamburg, and on Hamburg itself, he qualified as exceedingly just. “Come and see me in Paris to-morrow,” he said. “I’ll expect you. But you are very young, and perhaps you’ll forget. Promise me that you’ll not fail to come.” Saying which he grasped my hands very affectionately. Mme. Grant, who had joined us, was equally pressing. I promised, and I ought to have kept my promise, for it was one of those lucky opportunities which often decide the whole of a man’s life and which the great Frederick called “His Majesty, Accident.”
‘But, my dear Achille, happiness is a ball after which we constantly run and then push with our feet when we have come up with it. I did not keep my appointment with M. de Talleyrand. That unfortunate shyness which too often paralyses youth had once more got the upper hand. I’ll not go as far as to say that I was practically frightened at the possible consequences of this good-will towards me. But I did ask myself what people could offer me in exchange for that constant succession of happiness, of maddening joys which at that moment made up my existence? I dreaded the end of a dream which my thoughtlessness, my ignorance of all serious things, sought to prolong. The contact with, the goodwill of, such a man, his influence, would have given a different direction to my ideas and to my career; in short, would have finally created for me a different life. Yes, friend, the goddess of chance absolutely stood in my path, and I was foolish enough not to catch hold of her. I learnt too late that her favour has wings, as desire is said to have.’