If the first sight of the procession surprised the Chevalier de Grammont, faithful Termes was no less astonished at the second.  The little that was to be seen of the bride’s face appeared not without beauty; but no judgment could be formed of the remainder:  Four dozen of patches, at least, and ten ringlets of hair, on each side, most completely concealed her from all human eyes; but it was the bridegroom who most particularly attracted the Chevalier de Grammont’s attention.

He was as ridiculously dressed as the rest of the company, except a coat of the greatest magnificence, and of the most exquisite taste.  The Chevalier de Grammont, walking up to him to examine his dress, began to commend the embroidery of his coat.  The bridegroom thought himself much honoured by this examination, and told him he bought it for one hundred and fifty louis, at the time he was paying his addresses to his wife.  “Then you did not get it made here?” said the Chevalier de Grammont.  “No,” replied the other; “I bought it of a London merchant, who had ordered it for an English lord.”  The Chevalier de Grammont, who now began to perceive in what manner the adventure would end, asked him if he should recollect the merchant if he saw him again?  “Recollect him!” replied the other, “I surely ought; for I was obliged to sit up drinking with him all night at Calais, as I was endeavouring to beat down the price.”  Termes had vanished out of sight as soon as ever this coat appeared, though he little supposed that the cursed bridegroom would have any conversation concerning it with his master.

The Chevalier’s thoughts were some time wavering between his inclination to laugh, and a desire of hanging Master Termes; but the long habit of suffering himself to be robbed by his domestics, together with the vigilance of the criminal, whom his master could not reproach with having slept in his service, inclined him to clemency; and yielding to the importunities of the country gentleman, in order to confound his faithful servant, he sat down to table, to make the thirty-seventh of the company.

A short time after, he desired one of the waiters to call for a gentleman whose name was Termes.  He immediately appeared; and as soon as the master of the feast saw him, he rose from table, and offering him his hand; “Welcome, my friend,” said he; “you see that I have taken good care of the coat which you sold me with so much reluctance, and that I have kept it for a good purpose.”

Termes, having put on a face of brass, pretended not to know him, and pushed him back with some degree of rudeness.  “No, no!” said the other; “since I was obliged to sit up with you the whole night, in order to strike the bargain, you shall pledge me in the bride’s health.”  The Chevalier de Grammont, who saw that Termes was disconcerted, notwithstanding his impudence, said to him with a smile:  “Come, come, my good London merchant, sit down, as you are so civilly invited:  we are not so