this. Promotions were made; five
officers, all my juniors, were placed over my head. I resolved then to
leave the service, but not to take a rash step. I consulted first with
several friends before sending in my resignation. All whom I consulted
advised me to quit the service, but for a long time I could not resolve
to do so. Nearly three months passed, during which I suffered cruel
anguish of mind from my irresolution. I knew that if I left the army I
should be certain to incur the anger of the King, and I do not hesitate
to say that this was not a matter of indifference to me. The King was
always annoyed when anybody ceased to serve; he called it "quitting him;"
and made his anger felt for a long time. At last, however, I determined
on my course of action.

I wrote a short letter to the King, in which, without making any
complaints, I said that as my health was not good (it had given me some
trouble on different occasions) I begged to be allowed to quit his
service, and said that I hoped I should be permitted to console myself
for leaving the army by assiduously attending upon him at the Court:
After despatching this letter I went away immediately to Paris.

I learnt afterwards from my friends, that upon receiving my letter the
King called Chamillart to him, and said with emotion: "Well! Monsieur,
here is another man who quits us!--" and he read my letter word for word.
I did not learn that anything else escaped him.

As for me, I did not return to Versailles for a whole week, or see the
King again until Easter Monday. After his supper that evening, and when
about to undress himself, he paid me a distinction, a mere trifle I
admit, and which I should be ashamed to mention if it did not under the
circumstances serve as a characteristic of him.

Although the place he undressed in was very well illuminated, the
chaplain at the evening prayers there held in his hand a lighted candle,
which he gave afterwards to the chief valet-de-chambre, who carried it
before the King until he reached his arm-chair, and then handed it to
whomever the King ordered him to give it to. On this evening the King,
glancing all around him, cast his eye upon me, and told the valet to give
the candle to me. It was an honour which he bestowed sometimes upon one,
sometimes upon another, according to his whim, but which, by his manner
of bestowing it, was always coveted, as a great distinction. My surprise
may be imagined when I heard