All at once Biniski, Branicki’s bosom-friend, came galloping furiously along the road with his bare sword in his hand.  He was evidently running after me.  Happily he did not glance at the wretched sleigh in which I was, or else he would undoubtedly have murdered me.  I got at last to Warsaw, and went to the house of Prince Adam Czartoryski to beg him to shelter me, but there was nobody there.  Without delay I determined to seek refuge in the Convent of the Recollets, which was handy.

I rang at the door of the monastery, and the porter seeing me covered with blood hastened to shut the door, guessing the object of my visit.  But I did not give him the time to do so, but honouring him with a hearty kick forced my way in.  His cries attracted a troop of frightened monks.  I demanded sanctuary, and threatened them with vengeance if they refused to grant it.  One of their number spoke to me, and I was taken to a little den which looked more like a dungeon than anything else.  I offered no resistance, feeling sure that they would change their tune before very long.  I asked them to send for my servants, and when they came I sent for a doctor and Campioni.  Before the surgeon could come the Palatin of Polduchia was announced.  I had never had the honour of speaking to him, but after hearing the history of my duel he was so kind as to give me all the particulars of a duel he had fought in his youthful days.  Soon after came the Palatin of Kalisch, Prince Jablenowski.  Prince Sanguska, and the Palatin of Wilna, who all joined in a chorus of abuse of the monks who had lodged me so scurvily.  The poor religious excused themselves by saying that I had ill-treated their porter, which made my noble friends laugh; but I did not laugh, for my wound was very painful.  However I was immediately moved into two of their best guest-rooms.

The ball had pierced my hand by the metacarpus under the index finger, and had broken the first phalanges.  Its force had been arrested by a metal button on my waistcoat, and it had only inflicted a slight wound on my stomach close to the navel.  However, there it was and it had to be extracted, for it pained me extremely.  An empiric named Gendron, the first surgeon my servants had found, made an opening on the opposite side of my hand which doubled the wound.  While he was performing this painful operation I told the story of the duel to the company, concealing the anguish I was enduring.  What a power vanity exercises on the moral and physical forces!  If I had been alone I should probably have fainted.

As soon as the empiric Gendron was gone, the palatin’s surgeon came in and took charge of the case, calling Gendron a low fellow.  At the same time Prince Lubomirski, the husband of the palatin’s daughter, arrived, and gave us all a surprise by recounting the strange occurrences which had happened after the duel.  Bininski came to where Branicki was lying, and seeing his wound rode off furiously on horseback,