At the end of the week I returned to the same inn at Brunswick which I had occupied before, and let my godson Daturi know of my arrival.
I was delighted to hear that no one suspected that I had spent the fortnight within five leagues of Brunswick. Daturi told me that the general belief was that I had returned the Jew his money and got the bill of exchange back. Nevertheless I felt sure that the bill had been honoured at Amsterdam, and that the duke knew that I had been staying at Wolfenbuttel.
Daturi told me that Nicolini was expecting to see me at dinner, and I was not astonished to hear of it, for I had not taken leave of anyone. I accordingly went, and the following incident, which served to justify me in the eyes of all men, took place:
We were at the roast when one of the prince’s servants came in with the Jew I had beaten. The poor man came up humbly to me, and spoke as follows:
“I am ordered to come here, sir, to apologize for suspecting the authenticity of the bill of exchange you gave me. I have been punished by being fined the amount of my commission.”
“I wish that had been your only punishment,” said I.
He made me a profound bow, and went out, saying that I was only too good.
When I got back to the inn, I found a letter from Redegonde in which she reproached me tenderly for not having been once to see her all the time I had been at Brunswick, and begging me to breakfast with her in a little country house.
“I shall not be in my mother’s company,” she added, “but in that of a young lady of your acquaintance, whom, I am sure, you will be glad to see once more.”
I liked Redegonde, and I had only neglected her at Brunswick because my means did not allow my making her a handsome present. I resolved to accept her invitation, my curiosity being rather stimulated by the account of the young lady.