ent and threw myself in an easy chair at the fireplace; and if ever a
man was astonished it was I, when I saw seated opposite me the
Controller-General! M. de Calonne looked stupified and half-asleep. I
nodded to Beaumarchais, and looked as if I wished an explanation; and the
author of Figaro, or rather Figaro himself, made clear the mystery in a
manner not very complimentary to Madame de St James s character, whatever
it might be to her beauty. "Oho! the minister is caught," I thought; "no
wonder the Collector lives in such style."

It was half-past twelve before the card-tables were removed, and we sat
down to supper. We were a party of ten--Bodard and his wife, the
Controller-General, Beaumarchais, the two strangers, two handsome women
whose names I will not mention, and a collector of taxes, I think a M.
Lavoisier. Of thirty who had been in the drawing-room when I entered,
these were all who remained. The supper was stupid beyond belief. The two
strangers and the Collector were intolerable bores. I made signs to
Beaumarchais to make the surgeon tipsy, while I undertook the same kind
office with the attorney, who sat on my left. As we had no other means of
amusing ourselves, and the plan promised some fun, by bringing out the two
interlopers and making them more ridiculous than we had found them already,
M. de Calonne entered into the plot. In a moment the three ladies saw our
design, and joined in it with all their power. The surgeon seemed very
well inclined to yield; but when I had filled my neighbour's glass for the
third time, he thanked me with cold politeness, and would drink no more.
The conversation, I don't know from what cause, had turned on the magic
suppers of the Count Cagliostro. I took little interest in it, for, from
the moment of my neighbour's refusal to drink, I had done nothing but
study his pale and small featured countenance. His nose was flat and
sharp-pointed at the same time, and occasionally an expression came to his
eyes that gave him the appearance of a weasel. All at once the blood
rushed to his cheeks when he heard Madame St James say to M. de Calonne--

"But I assure you, sir, I have actually seen Queen Cleopatra."

"I believe it, madame," exclaimed my neighbour; "for I have spoken to
Catharine de Medicis."

"Oh! oh!" laughed M. De Calonne.

The words uttered by the little provincial had an indefinable sonorousness.
The sudden clearness of intonation, from a man who, up to this time