im to
shelter me, but there was nobody there. Without delay I determined to
seek refuge in the Convent of the Recollets, which was handy.

I rang at the door of the monastery, and the porter seeing me covered
with blood hastened to shut the door, guessing the object of my visit.
But I did not give him the time to do so, but honouring him with a hearty
kick forced my way in. His cries attracted a troop of frightened monks. I
demanded sanctuary, and threatened them with vengeance if they refused to
grant it. One of their number spoke to me, and I was taken to a little
den which looked more like a dungeon than anything else. I offered no
resistance, feeling sure that they would change their tune before very
long. I asked them to send for my servants, and when they came I sent for
a doctor and Campioni. Before the surgeon could come the Palatin of
Polduchia was announced. I had never had the honour of speaking to him,
but after hearing the history of my duel he was so kind as to give me all
the particulars of a duel he had fought in his youthful days. Soon after
came the Palatin of Kalisch, Prince Jablenowski. Prince Sanguska, and the
Palatin of Wilna, who all joined in a chorus of abuse of the monks who
had lodged me so scurvily. The poor religious excused themselves by
saying that I had ill-treated their porter, which made my noble friends
laugh; but I did not laugh, for my wound was very painful. However I was
immediately moved into two of their best guest-rooms.

The ball had pierced my hand by the metacarpus under the index finger,
and had broken the first phalanges. Its force had been arrested by a
metal button on my waistcoat, and it had only inflicted a slight wound on
my stomach close to the navel. However, there it was and it had to be
extracted, for it pained me extremely. An empiric named Gendron, the
first surgeon my servants had found, made an opening on the opposite side
of my hand which doubled the wound. While he was performing this painful
operation I told the story of the duel to the company, concealing the
anguish I was enduring. What a power vanity exercises on the moral and
physical forces! If I had been alone I should probably have fainted.

As soon as the empiric Gendron was gone, the palatin's surgeon came in
and took charge of the case, calling Gendron a low fellow. At the same
time Prince Lubomirski, the husband of the palatin's daughter, arrived,
and gave us all a surprise by recounting the stra