rate situation; he wants to leave the country, and does not possess
a single florin. I advise you to give him an alms once more, and you will
have done with him. Two score florins will not make you any the poorer,
and will rid you of a villainous enemy."

"A most villainous one, I think." At last I agreed to give him the forty
florins, and I handed them to him in a coffee-house where the major told
me I should find him. The reader will see how I met this blackguard four
months later.

Now, when all these troubles have been long over and I can think over
them calmly, reflecting on the annoyances I experienced at Amsterdam,
where I might have been so happy, I am forced to admit that we ourselves
are the authors of almost all our woes and griefs, of which we so
unreasonably complain. If I could live my life over again, should I be
wiser? Perhaps; but then I should not be myself.

M. d'O---- asked me to sup with him at the Burgomasters' Lodge, and this
was a great distinction, for, contrary to the rules of Freemasonry, no
one but the twenty-four members who compose the lodge is admitted, and
these twenty-four masons were the richest men on the Exchange.

"I have told them that you are coming," said M. d'O----, "and to welcome
you more honourably the lodge will be opened in French." In short, these
gentlemen gave me the most distinguished reception, and I had the fortune
to make myself so agreeable to them that I was unanimously chosen an
honorary member during the time I should stay at Amsterdam. As we were
going away, M. d'O---- told me that I had supped with a company which
represented a capital of three hundred millions.

Next day the worthy Dutchman begged me to oblige him by answering a
question to which his daughter's oracle had replied in a very obscure
manner. Esther encouraged me, and I asked what the question was. It ran
as follows:

"I wish to know whether the individual who desires me and my company to
transact a matter of the greatest importance is really a friend of the
King of France?"

It was not difficult for me to divine that the Comte de St. Germain was
meant. M. d'O was not aware that I knew him, and I had not forgotten what
M. d'Afri had told me.

"Here's a fine opportunity," thought I, "for covering my oracle with
glory, and giving my fair Esther something to think about."

I set to work, and after erecting my pyramid and placing above the four
keys the letters O, S, A, D, the better to impo