ve been waited on, but in his father's house he thought, and
rightly, that it was an honour to wait.

Such are Swiss customs, of which persons of superficial understanding
very foolishly make a jest. All the same, the vaunted honour and loyalty
of the Swiss do not prevent them from fleecing strangers, at least as
much as the Dutch, but the greenhorns who let themselves be cheated,
learn thereby that it is well to bargain before-hand, and then they treat
one well and charge reasonably. In this way, when I was at Bale, I
baffled the celebrated Imhoff, the landlord of the "Three Kings."

M. Ote complimented me on my waiter's disguise, and said he was sorry not
to have seen me officiating, nevertheless, he said he thought I was wise
not to repeat the jest. He thanked me for the honour I had done his
house, and begged me to do him the additional favour of dining at his
table some day before I left. I answered that I would dine with him with
pleasure that very day. I did so, and was treated like a prince.

The reader will have guessed that the last look my charmer gave me had
not extinguished the fire which the first sight of her had kindled in my
breast. It had rather increased my flame by giving me hopes of being
better acquainted with her; in short, it inspired me with the idea of
going to Soleure in order to give a happy ending to the adventure. I took
a letter of credit on Geneva, and wrote to Madame d'Urfe, begging her to
give me a written introduction, couched in strong terms to M. de
Chavigni, the French ambassador, telling her that the interests of our
order were highly involved in my knowing this diplomatist, and requesting
her to address letters to me at the post office at Soleure. I also wrote
to the Duke of Wurtemburg, but had no answer from him, and indeed he must
have found my epistle very unpleasant reading.

I visited the old woman whom Giustiniani had told me of several times
before I left Zurich, and although I ought to have been well satisfied as
far as physical beauty was concerned, my enjoyment was very limited, as
the nymphs I wooed only spoke Swiss dialect--a rugged corruption of
German. I have always found that love without speech gives little
enjoyment, and I cannot imagine a more unsatisfactory mistress than a
mute, were she as lovely as Venus herself.

I had scarcely left Zurich when I was obliged to stop at Baden to have
the carriage M. Ote had got me mended. I might have started again at
elev