This resource was soon exhausted.
The day came when his creditors seized all they could lay their hands upon, the last remains of his opulence, his carriages, horses, and costly furniture.
He took refuge in a quiet hotel, but he could not keep away from the wealthy set whom he considered his friends.
He lived upon them as he had lived upon the tradesmen who furnished his supplies. Borrowing from one louis up to twenty-five, from anybody who would lend to him, he never pretended to pay them. Constantly betting, no one ever saw him pay a wager. He piloted all the raw young men who fell into his hands, and utilized, in rendering shameful services, an experience which had cost him two hundred thousand francs; he was half courtier, half adventurer.
He was not banished, but was made to cruelly expiate the favor of being tolerated. No one had the least regard for his feelings, or hesitated to tell him to his face what was thought of his unprincipled conduct.
Thus, when alone in his little den, he would give way to fits of violent rage. He had not yet reached a state of callousness to be able to endure these humiliations without the keenest torture to his false pride and vanity.
Envy and covetousness had long since stifled every sentiment of honor and self-respect in his base heart. For a few years of opulence he was ready to commit any crime.
And, though he did not commit a crime, he came very near it, and was the principal in a disgraceful affair of swindling and extortion, which raised such an outcry against him that he was obliged to leave Paris.
Count de Commarin, an old friend of his father, hushed up the matter, and furnished him with money to take him to England.
And how did he manage to live in London?