“Because I’ve no money; do let me be quiet.”
The coachman jumped down, and, opening the door of his carriage, “It shall never be said,” cried he, “that I left so charming a young gentleman to weary himself, and catch cold, merely for the sake of twenty-four sous.”
Arrived at the Palace of Justice, he stopped before the saloon of a famous restaurateur, opened the door of the carriage, and taking off his hat very respectfully, begged the youth to accept of a Louis-d’or. “You will meet with some young gentlemen within,” said he, “with whom you may wish to take a hand at cards. The number of my coach is 144. You can find me out, and repay me whenever you please.”
The worthy Jehu was some years afterward made coachman to the Princess Sophia, of France, through the recommendation of the handsome youth he had so generously obliged.
Another instance in point is given with respect to his tailor, to whom he owed four hundred livres. The tailor had repeatedly dunned him, but was always put off with the best grace in the world. The wife of the tailor urged her husband to assume a harsher tone. He replied that he could not find it in his heart to speak roughly to so charming a young gentleman.
“I’ve no patience with such want of spirit!” cried the wife; “you have not the courage to show your teeth: but I’m going out to get change for this note of a hundred crowns; before I come home, I’ll seek this ‘charming’ youth myself, and see whether he has the power to charm me. I’ll warrant he won’t be able to put me off with fine looks and fine speeches.”
With these and many more vaunts, the good dame sallied forth. When she returned home, however, she wore quite a different aspect.
“Well,” said her husband, “how much have you received from the ‘charming’ young man?”
“Let me alone,” replied the wife; “I found him playing on the guitar, and he looked so handsome, and was so amiable and genteel, that I had not the heart to trouble him.”
“And the change for the hundred-crown note?” said the tailor.