There was no end to the outrageous civilities of M. de Coislin.  On returning from Fontainebleau one day, we, that is Madame de Saint-Simon and myself, encountered M. de Coislin and his son, M. de Metz, on foot upon the pavement of Ponthierry, where their coach had broken down.  We sent word, accordingly, that we should be glad to accommodate them in ours.  But message followed message on both sides; and at last I was compelled to alight and to walk through the mud, begging them to mount into my coach.  M. de Coislin, yielding to my prayers, consented to this.  M. de Metz was furious with him for his compliments, and at last prevailed on him.  When M. de Coislin had accepted my offer and we had nothing more to do than to gain the coach, he began to capitulate, and to protest that he would not displace the two young ladies he saw seated in the vehicle.  I told him that the two young ladies were chambermaids, who could well afford to wait until the other carriage was mended, and then continue their journey in that.  But he would not hear of this; and at last all that M. de Metz and I could do was to compromise the matter, by agreeing to take one of the chambermaids with us.  When we arrived at the coach, they both descended, in order to allow us to mount.  During the compliments that passed—­and they were not short—­I told the servant who held the coach-door open, to close it as soon as I was inside, and to order the coachman to drive on at once.  This was done; but M. de Coislin immediately began to cry aloud that he would jump out if we did not stop for the young ladies; and he set himself to do so in such an odd manner, that I had only time to catch hold of the belt of his breeches and hold him back; but he still, with his head hanging out of the window, exclaimed that he would leap out, and pulled against me.  At this absurdity I called to the coachman to stop; the Duke with difficulty recovered himself, and persisted that he would have thrown himself out.  The chambermaid was ordered to mount, and mount she did, all covered with mud, which daubed us; and she nearly crushed M. de Metz and me in this carriage fit only for four.

M. de Coislin could not bear that at parting anybody should give him the “last touch;” a piece of sport, rarely cared for except in early youth, and out of which arises a chase by the person touched, in order to catch him by whom he has been touched.  One evening, when the Court was at Nancy, and just as everybody was going to bed, M. de Longueville spoke a few words in private to two of his torch-bearers, and then touching the Duc de Coislin, said he had given him the last touch, and scampered away, the Duke hotly pursuing him.  Once a little in advance, M. de Longueville hid himself in a doorway, allowed M. de Coislin to pass on, and then went quietly home to bed.  Meanwhile the Duke, lighted by the torch-bearers, searched for M. de Longueville all over the town, but meeting with no success, was obliged to give up the chase, and went home all in a sweat.  He was obliged of course to laugh a good deal at this joke, but he evidently did not like it over much.