Down stairs I rushed, through the hall, pushing aside waiters and overturning chambermaids in my course.  The carriage was already at the door.  Now for a surprise, thought I, as I worked through the crowd in the porch, and reached the door just as the steps were clattered down, and a gentleman began to descend, whom twenty expectant voices, now informed of his identity, welcomed as the new Charge d’Affaires.

“May all the—­”

What I wished for his excellency it would not be polite to repeat, nor most discreet even to remember; but, certes, I mounted the stairs with as little good will towards the envoy extraordinary as was consistent with due loyalty.

When once more in my room, I congratulated myself that now at least no more “false starts” could occur—­“the eternal Charge d’Affaires, of whom I have been hearing since my arrival, cannot come twice—­he is here now, and I hope I’m done with him.”

The supper—­some greasiness apart—­was good—­the wine excellent.  My spirits were gradually rising, and I paced my room in that mingled state of hope and fear, that amid all its anxieties, has such moments of ecstasy.  A new noise without—­some rabble in the street; hark, it comes nearer—­I hear the sound of wheels; yes, there go the horses—­nearer and nearer.  Ah, it is dying away again—­stay—­yes, yes—­here it is—­here they are.  The noise and tumult without now increased every instant—­the heavy trot of six or eight horses shook the very street, and I heard the round, dull, rumbling sound of a heavy carriage, as it drew up at last at the door of the inn.  Why it was I know not, but this time I could not stir—­my heart beat almost loud enough for me to hear—­my temples throbbed, and then a cold and clammy perspiration came over me, and I sank into a chair.  Fearing that I was about to faint, sick as I was, I felt angry with myself, and tried to rally, but could not, and only at length was roused by hearing that the steps were let down, and shortly after the tread of feet coming along the gallery towards my room.

They are coming—­she is coming, thought I. Now then for my doom!

There was some noise of voices outside.  I listened, for I still felt unable to rise.  The talking grew louder—­doors were opened and shut —­then came a lull—­then more slamming of doors, and more talking—­then all was still again—­and at last I heard the steps of people as if retiring, and in a few minutes after the carriage door was jammed to, and again the heavy tramp of the horses rattled over the pave.  At this instant Antoine entered.

“Well, Antoine,” said I, in a voice trembling with weakness and agitation, “not them yet?”

“It was his Grace the Grand Mareschal,” said Antoine, scarcely heeding my question, in the importance of the illustrious visitor who had arrived.

“Ah, the Grand Mareschal,” said I, carelessly; “does he live here?”

“Sappermint nein, Mein Herr; but he has just been to pay his respects to his Excellency the new Charge d’Affaires.”