se besides pleasuring at Chambord; the fetes
were meant to disguise more serious events. On an August morning at
daylight Count Saxe changed his ball costume for his riding dress and
set forth to take command of the van of Marshal Belle-Isle's army,
which was to cross the Rhine at Fort Louis, thirty miles below
Strasburg. Gaston Cheverny was not to be with us. He was to go with
the army of Marshal Maillebois, which was to cross the Rhine near
Duesseldorf.

Count Saxe had been in a quandary about inviting Gaston Cheverny to
resume his old place as aide-de-camp. There could be no doubt that
Gaston merited much from Count Saxe, as it was owing to Count Saxe's
own imprudence in remaining unguarded at Hueningen that Gaston
Cheverny had been lost to life and love for seven years. Yet my master
felt toward him the same coldness of heart that I did. It is true that
Gaston's alleged inability to use his right arm properly would be a
drawback, but one likely to be passed over by any commander who really
wished his services, and especially by Count Saxe, taking the past
into consideration. In truth there was every reason why Count Saxe
should again offer a place in his military family to Gaston Cheverny.
But he felt a singular indisposition to do it.

Gaston, ever quick of wit, relieved Count Saxe of his awkward
predicament. He wrote, saying that Marshal Maillebois had made him an
admirable offer, and while he recognized Count Saxe's right to his
services, he scarcely thought anything so promising could be given him
in the army of Marshal Belle-Isle. My master jumped at this easy way
out of his difficulty and wrote, desiring Gaston Cheverny to suit
himself. At the same time he inclosed a letter highly recommending
Gaston to Marshal Maillebois. Every word in that letter, which I wrote
myself, was true, because it referred to the Gaston Cheverny we had
known before 1740.

Gaston replied most handsomely, and so the matter was settled to
everybody's satisfaction. But it gave me a feeling of stupefaction
that the person we were trying to part from decently, and to avoid
with the greatest seeming tenderness, was the Gaston Cheverny whom I
had loved the instant my eyes had rested on him, whom my master had
bade me capture for Courland, who had served us as loyally as man
could serve in all those adventurous days, who had been Count Saxe's
right-hand man, and whose readiness and devotion to Count Saxe had
cost such a price as Gaston h