the handsome satisfaction the Count of Aranda had given me.

The letter made the ambassador sorry that he had not interposed on my
behalf, but he hoped people would believe that the count would not have
acted as he did if it had not been for his interposition. His favourite,
Count Manucci, had come to ask me to dinner; as it happened I was engaged
to Mengs, which obtained an invitation for the painter, and flattered his
vanity excessively. He fancied that the invitation proceeded from
gratitude, and it certainly smoothed away the mortification he had felt
at seeing me arrested in his house. He immediately wrote to the effect
that he would call upon me with his carriage.

I called on the Count of Aranda, who kept me waiting for a quarter of an
hour, and then came in with some papers in his hand. He smiled when he
saw me, and said,--

"Your business is done. Stay, here are four letters; take them and read
them over again."

"Why should I read them again? This is the document I gave the alcalde."

"I know that. Read, and confess that you should not have written so
violently, in spite of the wrongs that vexed you."

"I crave your pardon, my lord, but a man who meditates suicide does not
pick terms. I believed that your excellency was at the bottom of it all."

"Then you don't know me. Go and thank Don Emmanuel de Roda, who wants to
know you, and I shall be glad if you will call once on the alcalde, not
to make him an apology, for you owe him none, but as an act of politeness
to salve over the hard things you said of him. If you write the history
of Princess Lubomirska, I hope you will tell her that I did my best for
you."

I then called on Colonel Royas, who told me that I had made a great
mistake in saying that I was satisfied.

"What could I claim?"

"Everything. Dismissal of the alcalde and compensation to the tune of
fifty thousand duros. Spain is a country where a man may speak out save
in the matters which the Holy Inquisition looks after."

This colonel, now a general, is one of the pleasantest Spaniards I have
ever met.

I had not long returned to my lodging when Mengs called for me in his
carriage. The ambassador gave me a most gracious reception, and
overwhelmed Mengs with compliments for having endeavoured to shelter me.
At dinner I told the story of my sufferings at Buen Retiro, and the
conversation I had just had with the Count of Aranda, who had returned me
my letters. The company expressed a de