with Diane, the mistress of the King.

Thus at five and twenty I found myself an exile, and penniless. One
friend alone remained to me, and this was a young man of Orrain called
Pierrebon, whom I have mentioned before. Through good and ill he
adhered to me with ancient fidelity, and he lives still, honoured and
trusted by all who know him.

Together we sought a refuge in the Low Countries, and there I learned
the first great lesson of my life, and that was to live by honest work.
For five years I labored, until I had amassed sufficient to give me a
small estate of about fifty ecus.

During those five years so many things had happened--I myself was so
changed--that I began to think that I and my affairs had been consigned
to oblivion, and that I might safely return to France. One day I was
seized with an uncontrollable desire to see my native land once again.
I determined to do so then and there, and a fortnight later,
accompanied by Pierrebon, I was in Paris.

I had every reason to confirm the opinion I had formed, that I and my
doings had been forgotten. In the humble class to which I now belonged
no one had ever heard of the Chevalier d'Orrain. Here in Paris I felt
I was safe, and I consequently determined to fix my abode in the great
city. I hired an apartment in the Rue des Lavandieres, and established
myself there, giving out that I was a fencing-master. No pupils came;
but at any rate there was peace and contentment. I formed no
acquaintances except one, a certain Camus, a glove-maker, who had an
apartment above mine. For some reason or other this man forced himself
upon me, and though at first I repulsed his attentions he would not be
denied, and I grew to tolerate him. He was possessed of extraordinary
learning, and, under the guise of his ostensible calling, plied another
terrible trade--those who know the story of Jeanne of Navarre will know
what I mean.

This I was unaware of at the time; but, despite myself, the man's
conversation interested me, so that I occasionally yielded to his
importunities, and visited him for an hour or so after supper, when we
passed the time in discussion.

In this manner close upon six years elapsed, until I myself had almost
forgotten in the Bourgeois Broussel--the name I assumed--the once
brilliant Chevalier d'Orrain. Pierrebon alone knew my secret, and he
was as silent as the grave. At times the honest fellow would speak
hopefully of a good day to come; but I