a
mild-mannered old man, and seeing Count Saxe, he stopped and spoke to
him.

"You are back from Courland, then, Monsieur," said the cardinal,
politely. "No doubt you are pleased to be once more among polite
persons. I hear the Courlanders are very wild and wicked people, with
no fear of God."

"Your Eminence, we are all of us great sinners, as well as the
Courlanders, that is the truth," answered Count Saxe, "and I will
leave your Eminence to meditate upon that grand truth. Good evening."
And with that he went clamping up the staircase. I saw, out of the
tail of my eye, the cardinal stop and laugh to himself. The story flew
all about Versailles, and people were chary after that in offering
real or pretended condolences to Count Saxe.

We reached the king's anteroom, where the usual crowd of do-nothings
and good-for-nothings was assembled. The women at Versailles always
reminded me of butterflies and humming-birds. They crowded about Count
Saxe like bees about a honeysuckle, but he artfully excused himself,
and made for the king's door with such an air of command that the
lackeys thought he was sent for by the king. Of course he was
instantly admitted, and he directed that I follow him, which I did.

The king was waiting for the queen to go to supper, and looked bored
and impatient. He was a handsome, stolid, _laisser-faire_ man, who, by
not doing anything, contrived to get as much evil done as the worst
king that ever lived; but he was rather a respectable sort of man at
that time. Several gentlemen were in the room when he entered, and
none of them dared open his mouth for fear of adding to the king's
irritation. The instant, however, my master appeared, the king's
countenance cleared. He greeted Count Saxe in the warmest manner, and
asked that he would come to the royal closet as soon as supper was
over that he might hear of all that had happened in Courland. My
master thanked him in suitable terms. Then the queen entered, and her
greeting was as cordial as the king's. If the queen, poor soul, hated
anybody, it was the Russians, whom she reckoned the despoiler of her
father, the King of Poland. So there was much of painful interest to
her in what Count Saxe had to tell.

It was then time to go to supper. Imagine the feelings of those people
who wished to see Count Saxe humiliated, when they beheld him walking
along the grand gallery, the king talking to him with the greatest
animation! The queen claimed him o