wer room where he had
talked with Bibikoff. General Lacy knew Maurice of Saxe well. He
knew that, give him ten days' time and all the Russians, aided by
Satan himself, could not make him surrender. So he wrote that
Bibikoff's arrangement was void; that Count Saxe must retire at
daylight; that he, Lacy, declared upon his honor he had four
thousand men at hand, and if compelled to attack, no quarter would
be given. But Count Saxe was at liberty to retire, with a suite of
not more than four persons; and in that case all his people would be
paroled and would be allowed their personal arms and effects. General
Lacy was a Scotchman, as Madame Riano had said, and was as shrewd
as his countrymen generally are. He did not want the custody of
Maurice of Saxe--to hold him was like holding a wolf by the ears; and
the best possible means were taken to induce Count Saxe to depart
quietly--that threat of no quarter for his followers. Count Saxe
read this letter without a change of countenance. In good fortune
he was great; in evil fortune he was sublime. He was fleeing from
a kingdom where he had expected to rule; he had to meet the
laughter of that infernal town of Paris; he had to face, at some
time, Monsieur Voltaire; but he was as cool, as smiling, as debonair,
as ever I saw him. He merely said to us:

"General Lacy is a man of his word. We may believe all he says. If it
were for the cause of honor, well might we all remain here, and die as
becomes men. But the cause is the crown of Courland. For that, I can
not see brave men put to the sword. I am for surrendering and
departing."

Not a word was spoken by any of us present, but we gave a silent
acquiescence. I wrote and Count Saxe signed a few lines accepting
General Lacy's terms, and this was at once despatched.

Count Saxe assembled all of his followers upon the terrace, gave each
man a sum of money and appointed a rendezvous in Koenigsberg. I think
there was but one man who did not fully expect to return to Courland
the next year in triumph. I was that one man. I had ever believed
Count Saxe's star led him not to statecraft, but to war.

He named me first to go with him, Gaston Cheverny and Beauvais, and,
of course, Mademoiselle Capello. He told me to represent to Francezka
it would be better for her to assume her boy's dress on our retreat.

I went to the other end of the terrace, to Francezka's tower, and
knocked softly on the window. She opened it, and I told her in a