y trusted to my care, but in attempting to mend, I spoiled
it, though to the sight only, for it remained equally agreeable to the
taste. Profiting by this opportunity, I furnished myself from time to
time with a few bottles to drink in my own apartment; but unluckily,
I could never drink without eating; the difficulty lay therefore,
in procuring bread. It was impossible to make a reserve of this article,
and to have it brought by the footman was discovering myself,
and insulting the master of the house; I could not bear to purchase it
myself; how could a fine gentleman, with a sword at his side, enter a
baker's shop to buy a small loaf of bread? it was utterly impossible.
At length I recollected the thoughtless saying of a great princess, who,
on being informed that the country people had no bread, replied, "Then
let them eat pastry!" Yet even this resource was attended with a
difficulty. I sometimes went out alone for this very purpose, running
over the whole city, and passing thirty pastry cook's shops, without
daring to enter any one of them. In the first place, it was necessary
there should be only one person in the shop, and that person's
physiognomy must be so encouraging as to give me confidence to pass the
threshold; but when once the dear little cake was procured, and I shut up
in my chamber with that and a bottle of wine, taken cautiously from the
bottom of a cupboard, how much did I enjoy drinking my wine, and reading
a few pages of a novel; for when I have no company I always wish to read
while eating; it seems a substitute for society, and I dispatch
alternately a page and a morsel; 'tis indeed, as if my book dined with
me.

I was neither dissolute nor sottish, never in my whole life having been
intoxicated with liquor; my little thefts were not very indiscreet, yet
they were discovered; the bottles betrayed me, and though no notice was
taken of it, I had no longer the management of the cellar. In all this
Monsieur Malby conducted himself with prudence and politeness, being
really a very deserving man, who, under a manner as harsh as his
employment, concealed a real gentleness of disposition and uncommon
goodness of heart: he was judicious, equitable, and (what would not be
expected from an officer of the Marechausse) very humane.

Sensible of his indulgence, I became greatly attached to him, which made
my stay at Lyons longer than it would otherwise have been; but at length,
disgusted with an emplo