, in spite of
the state of languor of his soul which ought to have proved to him the
weakness and the fallibility of his nature. He had the greatest esteem
for his brother, who has now succeeded him, but he had not the courage to
follow the advice which that brother gave him. An impulse worthy of a
great soul made him bestow a large reward upon the physician, a man of
intelligence, who pronounced his sentence of death, but a completely
opposite weakness had prompted him, a few months before, to load with
benefits the doctors and the quack who made him believe that they had
cured him. He must likewise have felt the misery of knowing that he would
not be regretted after his death--a grievous thought, especially for a
sovereign. His niece, whom he loved dearly, died before him, and, if he
had had the affection of those who surrounded him, they would have spared
him that fearful information, for it was evident that his end was near at
hand, and no one could dread his anger for having kept that event from
him.

Although very much pleased with Vienna and with the pleasures I enjoyed
with the beautiful frauleins, whose acquaintance I had made at the house
of the baroness, I was thinking of leaving that agreeable city, when
Baron Vais, meeting me at Count Durazzo's wedding, invited me to join a
picnic at Schoenbrunn. I went, and I failed to observe the laws of
temperance; the consequence was that I returned to Vienna with such a
severe indigestion that in twenty-four hours I was at the point of death.

I made use of the last particle of intelligence left in me by the disease
to save my own life. Campioni, Roquendorf and Sarotin were by my bedside.
M. Sarotin, who felt great friendship for me, had brought a physician,
although I had almost positively declared that I would not see one. That
disciple of Sangrado, thinking that he could allow full sway to the
despotism of science, had sent for a surgeon, and they were going to
bleed me against my will. I was half-dead; I do not know by what strange
inspiration I opened my eyes, and I saw a man, standing lancet in hand
and preparing to open the vein.

"No, no!" I said.

And I languidly withdrew my arm; but the tormentor wishing, as the
physician expressed it, to restore me to life in spite of myself, got
hold of my arm again. I suddenly felt my strength returning. I put my
hand forward, seized one of my pistols, fired, and the ball cut off one
of the locks of his hair. That was