“If you do not confess, I cannot give you absolution, but you can do this:  ask me to absolve you, supposing you have fought a duel.”

“Certainly; I shall be glad if you will absolve me, supposing I have fought a duel.”

The delightful Jesuit gave me absolution in similar terms.  He was like his brethren—­never at a loss when a loophole of any kind is required.

Three days before I left the monastery, that is on Holy Thursday, the marshal withdrew my guard.  After I had been to mass on Easter Day, I went to Court, and as I kissed the king’s hand, he asked me (as had been arranged) why I wore my arm in a sling.  I said I had been suffering from a rheum, and he replied, with a meaning smile,—­

“Take care not to catch another.”

After my visit to the king, I called on Branicki, who had made daily enquiries after my health, and had sent me back my sword, He was condemned to stay in bed for six weeks longer at least, for the wad of my pistol had got into the wound, and in extracting it the opening had to be enlarged, which retarded his recovery.  The king had just appointed him chief huntsman, not so exalted an office as chamberlain, but a more lucrative one.  It was said he had got the place because he was such a good shot; but if that were the reason I had a better claim to it, for I had proved the better shot—­for one day at all events.

I entered an enormous ante-room in which stood officers, footmen, pages, and lacqueys, all gazing at me with the greatest astonishment.  I asked if my lord was to be seen, and begged the door-keeper to send in my name.  He did not answer, but sighed, and went into his master’s room.  Directly after, he came out and begged me, with a profound bow, to step in.

Branicki, who was dressed in a magnificent gown and supported by pillows and cushions, greeted me by taking off his nightcap.  He was as pale as death.

“I have come here, my lord,” I began, “to offer you my service, and to assure you how I regret that I did not pass over a few trifling words of yours.”

“You have no reason to reproach yourself, M. Casanova.”

“Your excellency is very kind.  I am also come to say that by fighting with me you have done me an honour which completely swallows up all offence, and I trust that you will give me your protection for the future.”

“I confess I insulted you, but you will allow that I have paid for it.  As to my friends, I openly say that they are my enemies unless they treat you with respect.  Bininski has been cashiered, and his nobility taken from him; he is well served.  As to my protection you have no need of it, the king esteems you highly, like myself, and all men of honour.  Sit down; we will be friends.  A cup of chocolate for this gentleman.  You seem to have got over your wound completely.”

“Quite so, my lord, except as to the use of my fingers, and that will take some time.”