It was April and, 1760—­my birthday—­and a remarkable period in my career, although my whole life has been filled with adventures, good or bad.

I had been in the carriage for two or three minutes when the postillion came and asked me if we had much longer to wait.  He thought he was speaking to the same person that he had left in the chaise, and I did not undeceive him.  “Drive on,” I answered, “and make one stage of it from here to Tubingen, without changing horses at Waldenbach.”  He followed my instructions, and we went along at a good pace, but I had a strong inclination to laugh at the face he made when he saw me at Tubingen.  Baletti’s servant was a youth, and slightly built; I was tall, and quite a man.  He opened his eyes to their utmost width, and told me I was not the same gentleman that was in the carriage when he started.  “You’re drunk,” said I, putting in his hand four times what he was accustomed to get, and the poor devil did not say a word.  Who has not experienced the persuasive influence of money?  I went on my journey, and did not stop till I reached Furstenburg, where I was quite safe.

I had eaten nothing on the way, and by the time I got to the inn I was dying of hunger.  I had a good supper brought to me, and then I went to bed and slept well.  As soon as I awoke I wrote to my three rascals.  I promised to wait ten days for them at the place from which I dated the letter, and I challenged them to a duel a l’outrance, swearing that I would publish their cowardice all over Europe if they refused to measure swords with me.  I next wrote to the Toscani, to Baletti, and to the good-natured mistress of the Austrian ambassador, commending Le Duc to their care, and thanking them for their friendly help.

The three rascals did not come, but the landlord’s two daughters, both of them pretty, made me pass the three days very agreeably.

On the fourth day, towards noon, I had the pleasure of seeing my faithful Spaniard riding into the town carrying his portmanteau on his saddle.

“Sir,” said he, “all Stuttgart knows you to be here, and I fear, lest the three officers who were too cowardly to accept your challenge may have you assassinated.  If you are wise you will set out for Switzerland forthwith.”

“That’s cowardly, my lad,” said I.  “Don’t be afraid about me, but tell me all that happened after my escape.”

“As soon as you were gone, sir, I carried out your instructions, and helped the poor devil of a sentry to empty his bottle, though he would have willingly dispensed with my assistance in the matter; I then told him you had gone to bed, and he locked the door as usual, and went away after shaking me by the hand.  After he had gone I went to bed.  Next morning the worthy man was at his post by nine o’clock, and at ten the three officers came, and on my telling them that you were still asleep they went away, bidding me come to a coffee-house, and summon them when you got up.  As they waited and waited to no purpose, they came again at noon, and told the soldier to open the door.  What followed amused me, though I was in some danger in the midst of the rascals.