“Last night when I was at the coffee-house, Count Scarnafis dared to say that France subsidised the Berne newspapers. I told him he lied, at which he rose and left the place in a rage, giving me a glance the meaning of which is not doubtful. I followed him to bring him to reason or to give him satisfaction; but he would do nothing and I suspect he went to the police to complain. I shall have to leave Turin early to-morrow morning.”
“You’re a Frenchman, and as you can claim the protection of your ambassador you will be wrong to leave so suddenly.”
“In the first place the ambassador is away, and in the second my cruel father disavows me. No, I would rather go, and wait for you at Lyons. All I want is for you to lend me a hundred crowns, for which I will give you an account.”
“It will be an easy account to keep,” said I, “but a long time before it is settled.”
“Possibly; but if it is in my power I will shew my gratitude for the kindnesses you have done me.”
I gave him a hundred crowns and wished him a pleasant journey, telling him that I should stop some time at Lyons.
I got a letter of credit on an Augsburg house, and three days after I left Turin I was at Chamberi. There was only one inn there in those days, so I was not much puzzled to choose where I would go, but for all that I found myself very comfortable.
As I entered my room, I was struck by seeing an extremely pretty girl coming out of an adjacent room.
“Who is that young lady?” said I to the chambermaid who was escorting me.
“That’s the wife of a young gentleman who has to keep his bed to get cured of a sword-thrust which he received four days ago on his way from France.”