Xavier Branicki, the royal Postoli, Knight of the White Eagle, Colonel of Uhlans, the king’s friend, was the chief adorer of Madame Binetti.  The lady probably confided her displeasure to him, and begged him to take vengeance on the manager, who had committed so many offences against her.  Count Branicki in his turn probably promised to avenge her quarrel, and, if no opportunity of doing so arose, to create an opportunity.  At least, this is the way in which affairs of this kind are usually managed, and I can find no better explanation for what happened.  Nevertheless, the way in which the Pole took vengeance was very original and extraordinary.

On the 20th of February Branicki went to the opera, and, contrary to his custom, went to the Catai’s dressing-room, and began to pay his court to the actress, Tomatis being present.  Both he and the actress concluded that Branicki had had a quarrel with her rival, and though she did not much care to place him in the number of her adorers, she yet gave him a good reception, for she knew it would be dangerous to despise his suit openly.

When the Catai had completed her toilet, the gallant postoli offered her his arm to take her to her carriage, which was at the door.  Tomatis followed, and I too was there, awaiting my carriage.  Madame Catai came down, the carriage-door was opened, she stepped in, and Branicki got in after her, telling the astonished Tomatis to follow them in the other carriage.  Tomatis replied that he meant to ride in his own carriage, and begged the colonel to get out.  Branicki paid no attention, and told the coachman to drive on.  Tornatis forbade him to stir, and the man, of course, obeyed his master.  The gallant postcili was therefore obliged to get down, but he bade his hussar give Tomatis a box on the ear, and this order was so promptly and vigorously obeyed that the unfortunate man was on the ground before he had time to recollect that he had a sword.  He got up eventually and drove off, but he could eat no supper, no doubt because he had a blow to digest.  I was to have supped with him, but after this scene I had really not the face to go.  I went home in a melancholy and reflective mood, wondering whether the whole had been concerted; but I concluded that this was impossible, as neither Branicki nor Binetti could have foreseen the impoliteness and cowardice of Tomatis.

In the next chapter the reader will see how tragically the matter ended.

CHAPTER XXII

My Duel with Branicki—­My Journey to Leopol and Return to Warsaw—­I Receive the Order to Leave—­My Departure with the Unknown One