he marechal without saying a
word. He took it with a vivacity which surprised me, and which has since
frequently intruded itself upon my thoughts.

I have not in my whole life had a more bitter moment than that of this
separation. Our embrace was long and silent: we both felt that this was
our last adieu.

Between Barre and Montmorency I met, in a hired carriage, four men in
black, who saluted me smilingly. According to what Theresa has since
told me of the officers of justice, the hour of their arrival and their
manner of behavior, I have no doubt, that they were the persons I met,
especially as the order to arrest me, instead of being made out at seven
o'clock, as I had been told it would, had not been given till noon. I
had to go through Paris. A person in a cabriolet is not much concealed.
I saw several persons in the streets who saluted me with an air of
familiarity but I did not know one of them. The same evening I changed
my route to pass Villeroy. At Lyons the couriers were conducted to the
commandant. This might have been embarrassing to a man unwilling either
to lie or change his name. I went with a letter from Madam de Luxembourg
to beg M. de Villeroy would spare me this disagreeable ceremony. M. de
Villeroy gave me a letter of which I made no use, because I did not go
through Lyons. This letter still remains sealed up amongst my papers.
The duke pressed me to sleep at Villeroy, but I preferred returning to
the great road, which I did, and travelled two more stages the same
evening.

My carriage was inconvenient and uncomfortable, and I was too much
indisposed to go far in a day. My appearance besides was not
sufficiently distinguished for me to be well served, and in France
post-horses feel the whip in proportion to the favorable opinion the
postillion has of his temporary master. By paying the guides generously
thought I should make up for my shabby appearance: this was still worse.
They took me for a worthless fellow who was carrying orders, and, for the
first time in my life, travelling post. From that moment I had nothing
but worn-out hacks, and I became the sport of the postillions. I ended
as I should have begun by being patient, holding my tongue, and suffering
myself to be driven as my conductors thought proper.

I had sufficient matter of reflection to prevent me from being weary on
the road, employing myself in the recollection of that which had just
happened; but this was neithe