permission to deal with the beast.  By good luck it had not been so easy as they supposed to find a musquet fit for immediate use, so I had full time.  To ascend the tree was no more than I had done many times before, and I went high in the branches, but cautiously, not to give Monsieur le Singe the idea of being pursued, lest he should leap to a bough incapable of supporting me.  When I had reached a fork tolerably high, and where he could see me, I settled myself, took out a letter, which fortunately was in my pocket, read it with the greatest deliberation, the monkey watching me all the time, and finally I proceeded to fold it neatly in all its creases.  The creature imitated me with its black fingers, little aware, poor thing, that the musqueteer had covered him with his weapon, and was waiting for the first sign of tearing the letter to pull the trigger, but withheld by a sign from the King, who did not wish to sacrifice his grandson’s pet before his eyes.  Finally, after finishing the folding, I doubled it a second time, and threw it at the animal.  To my great joy he returned the compliment by throwing the other at my head.  I was able to catch it, and moreover, as he was disposed to go in pursuit of his plaything, he swung his chain so near me that I got hold of it, twisted it round my arm, and made the best of my way down the tree, amid the ‘Bravos!’ started by the royal lips themselves, and repeated with ecstasy by all the crowd, who waved their hats, and made such a hallooing that I had much ado to get the monkey down safely; but finally, all dishevelled, with my best cuffs and cravat torn to ribbons, and my wig happily detached, unlike Absalom’s, for it remained in the tree, I had the honour of presenting on my knee the letter to the King, and the monkey to the Princes.  I kissed His Majesty’s hand, the little Duke of Anjou kissed the monkey, and the Duke of Burgundy kissed me with arms round my neck, then threw himself on his knees before his grandfather to ask pardon for his passion.  Every one said my fortune was made, and that my agility deserved at least the cordon bleu.  My own Duke of Chartres, who in many points is like his cousin, our late King Charles, gravely assured me that a new office was to be invented for me, and that I was to be Grand Singier du Roi.  I believe he pushed my cause, and so did the little Duke of Burgundy, and finally I got the pension without the office, and a good deal of occasional employment besides, in the way of translation of documents.  There were moments of success at play.  Oh yes, quite fairly, any one with wits about him can make his profit in the long-run among the Court set.  And thus I had enough to purchase a pretty little estate and chateau on the coast of Normandy, the confiscated property of a poor Huguenot refugee, so that it went cheap.  It gives the title of Pilpignon, which I assumed in kindness to the tongues of my French friends.  So you see, I have a station and property to which to carry you, my fair one, won by myself, though only by catching an ape.”