would have gone in shame and
secrecy, was startling and disgusting. He was nearly three months under
the most skilful treatment-and returned to the Court with half his nose,
his teeth out, and a physiognomy entirely changed, almost idiotic. The
King was so much struck by this change, that he recommended the courtiers
not to appear to notice it, for fear of afflicting M. de Vendome. That
was taking much interest in him assuredly. As, moreover, he had departed
in triumph upon this medical expedition, so he returned triumphant by the
reception of the King, which was imitated by all the Court. He remained
only a few days, and then, his mirror telling sad tales, went away to
Anet, to see if nose and teeth would come back to him with his hair.

A strange adventure, which happened at this time, terrified everybody,
and gave rise to many surmises. Savary was found assassinated in his
house at Paris he kept only a valet and a maid-servant, and they were
discovered murdered at the same time, quite dressed, like their master,
and in different parts of the house. It appeared by writings found
there, that the crime was one of revenge: it was supposed to have been
committed in broad daylight. Savary was a citizen of Paris, very rich,
without occupation, and lived like an epicurean. He had some friends of
the highest rank, and gave parties, of all kinds of pleasure, at his
house, politics sometimes being discussed. The cause of this
assassination was never known; but so much of it was found out, that no
one dared to search for more. Few doubted but that the deed had been
done by a very ugly little man, but of a blood so highly respected, that
all forms were dispensed with, in the fear lest it should be brought home
to him; and, after the first excitement, everybody ceased to speak of
this tragic history.

On the night between the 3rd and 4th of June, a daring robbery was
effected at the grand stables of Versailles. All the horse-cloths and
trappings, worth at least fifty thousand crowns, were carried off, and so
cleverly and with such speed, although the night was short, that no
traces of them could ever afterwards be found. This theft reminds me of
another which took place a little before the commencement of these
memoirs. The grand apartment at Versailles, that is to say, from the
gallery to the tribune, was hung with crimson velvet, trimmed and fringed
with gold. One fine morning the fringe and trimmings were all found to
have be