some of the other twenty-five)
was always uppermost with him. Gourville mentioned it to the prince
[Conde, the great Conde, the king's host], who went directly to
Vatel's apartment, and said to him, "Every thing is extremely well
conducted, Vatel; nothing could be more admirable than his
Majesty's supper." "Your highness's goodness," replied he,
"overwhelms me; I am sensible that there was a deficiency of roast
meat at two tables." "Not at all," said the prince; "do not perplex
yourself, and all will go well." Midnight came; the fireworks did
not succeed; they were covered with a thick cloud; they cost
sixteen thousand francs. At four o'clock in the morning Vatel went
round and found everybody asleep; he met one of the
under-purveyors, who was just come in with only two loads of fish.
"What!" said he, "is this all?" "Yes, sir," said the man, not
knowing that Vatel had despatched other people to all the seaports
around. Vatel waited for some time; the other purveyors did not
arrive; his head grew distracted; he thought there was no more fish
to be had. He flew to Gourville: "Sir," said he, "I cannot outlive
this disgrace." Gourville laughed at him. Vatel, however, went to
his apartment, and setting the hilt of his sword against the door,
after two ineffectual attempts, succeeded, in the third, in forcing
his sword through his heart. At that instant the couriers arrived
with the fish; Vatel was inquired after to distribute it. They ran
to his apartment, knocked at the door, but received no answer; upon
which they broke it open, and found him weltering in his blood. A
messenger was immediately despatched to acquaint the prince with
what had happened, who was like a man in despair. The Duke wept,
_for his Burgundy journey depended upon Vatel_.

The italics here are our own. We felt that we must use them.

Is it not all pathetic? But how exquisitely characteristic of the nation
and of the times! "Poor Vatel," is the extent to which Madame de Sevigne
allows herself to go in sympathy. Her heart never bleeds very
freely--for anybody except her daughter. Madame de Sevigne's heart,
indeed, we grieve to fear, was somewhat hard.

In another letter, after a long strain as worldly as any one could wish
to see, this lively woman thus touches, with a sincerity as
unquestionable as the levity is, on th