were the liverymen to resume the journey. We drove through such
deep sand that the horses went at a walk. It was frightfully hot. In
order to get air I was obliged to leave all my windows open, and both
postilions smoked incessantly; the vile odour of their pipes sickened
me so that I preferred to walk most of the time they smoked, although
I was up to my ankles in sand. Fortunately, no robbers are ever met
with on these roads. True, I noticed wolves on the neighbouring
heights, but apparently they were afraid of us, for they always fled
when we drew near, and so did the poor stags, which I frequently saw
crossing the road, when alarmed by M. de Riviere's calash.

In my state of health such hardships were bound to tell upon me. A few
days, in fact, were enough to break me down to such a degree that not
to succumb altogether it needed all my courage and my lively
determination not to interrupt the journey. I became so weak and ill
that I had to drag myself to my carriage, where I remained motionless,
bereft even of the ability to think. The only sensation I had was a
sharp pain in the right side, caused by rheumatism, and intensified
with every jolt. This pain was so unbearable that one day, when we
were driving on a road under repair and full of stones, I fainted away
in the carriage.

A part of my torture ended at Koenigsberg. There I took the post as
far as Berlin, where I arrived about the end of July, 1801, at ten in
the evening. But though I needed rest so badly, I was first to undergo
the ordeal of the custom-house. I was made to enter a large, dark
vault, where I waited a full two hours. The customs officers then said
they wanted to hold my carriage, so as to examine it at night, which
would have compelled me to walk to the inn in the pouring rain. I
argued with these men in French, and they answered me in German. It
was enough to drive one to distraction. They would not even allow me
to take out a nightcap and a little vial containing an antispasmodic,
of which I certainly would stand in great need after such a trial. I
was so hoarse from shouting at the barbarians that I could not speak.
At last I obtained permission to leave the custom-house in my
carriage, and I went to the "City of Paris" inn with a customs
officer, a real demon and dead drunk into the bargain. He opened my
luggage and turned everything pell-mell, appropriating a piece of
embroidered Indian stuff given me by Mme. Du Barry on my departure