told Prince Kaunitz that Schrotembach considered my narrative as pure
romance. His theory was that I had held a bank at faro with sharpers'
cards, and had dealt with both hands the arm in the sling being a mere
pretence. I had then been taken in the act by one of the gamesters, and
my unjust gains had been very properly taken from me. My detector had
then handed over my purse, containing forty ducats, to the police, and
the money had of course been confiscated. The empress had to choose
between believing Schrotembach and dismissing him; and she was not
inclined to do the latter, as it would be a difficult matter to find him
a successor in his difficult and odious task of keeping Vienna clear of
human vermin.

"This is what Prince Kaunitz asked me to tell you. But you need not be
afraid of any violence, and you can go when you like."

"Then I am to be robbed of two hundred ducats with impunity. The empress
might at least reimburse me if she does nothing more. Please to ask the
prince whether I can ask the sovereign to give me that satisfaction; the
least I can demand."

"I will tell him what you say."

"If not, I shall leave; for what can I do in a town where I can only
drive, and where the Government keeps assassins in its pay?"

"You are right. We are all sure that Pocchini has calumniated you. The
girl who recites Latin verses is well known, but none know her address. I
must advise you not to publish your tale as long as you are in Vienna, as
it places Schrotembach in a very bad light, and you see the empress has
to support him in the exercise of his authority."

"I see the force of your argument, and I shall have to devour my anger. I
will leave Vienna as soon as the washerwoman sends home my linen, but I
will have the story printed in all its black injustice."

"The empress is prejudiced against you, I don't know by whom."

"I know, though; it is that infernal old hag, Countess Salmor."

The next day I received a letter from Count Vitzthum, in which he said
that Prince Kaunitz advised me to forget the two hundred ducats, that the
girl and her so-called mother had left Vienna to all appearance, as
someone had gone to the address and had failed to find her.

I saw that I could do nothing, and resolved to depart in peace, and
afterwards to publish the whole story and to hang Pocchini with my own
hands when next I met him. I did neither the one nor the other.

About that time a young lady of the Salis de Coir