_, as he used to call me, in the state in which I am now, he
would be in a rage! What is to be done? Our sun is set, and we are all
out in the cold now. After all, political events might account for my
wife's silence!

"Boutin set out. He was a lucky fellow! He had two bears, admirably
trained, which brought him in a living. I could not go with him; the
pain I suffered forbade my walking long stages. I wept, monsieur, when
we parted, after I had gone as far as my state allowed in company with
him and his bears. At Carlsruhe I had an attack of neuralgia in the
head, and lay for six weeks on straw in an inn. I should never have
ended if I were to tell you all the distresses of my life as a beggar.
Moral suffering, before which physical suffering pales, nevertheless
excites less pity, because it is not seen. I remember shedding tears, as
I stood in front of a fine house in Strassburg where once I had given
an entertainment, and where nothing was given me, not even a piece of
bread. Having agreed with Boutin on the road I was to take, I went to
every post-office to ask if there were a letter or some money for me.
I arrived at Paris without having found either. What despair I had been
forced to endure! 'Boutin must be dead! I told myself, and in fact the
poor fellow was killed at Waterloo. I heard of his death later, and by
mere chance. His errand to my wife had, of course, been fruitless.

"At last I entered Paris--with the Cossacks. To me this was grief on
grief. On seeing the Russians in France, I quite forgot that I had no
shoes on my feet nor money in my pocket. Yes, monsieur, my clothes were
in tatters. The evening before I reached Paris I was obliged to bivouac
in the woods of Claye. The chill of the night air no doubt brought on an
attack of some nameless complaint which seized me as I was crossing
the Faubourg Saint-Martin. I dropped almost senseless at the door of an
ironmonger's shop. When I recovered I was in a bed in the Hotel-Dieu.
There I stayed very contentedly for about a month. I was then turned
out; I had no money, but I was well, and my feet were on the good stones
of Paris. With what delight and haste did I make my way to the Rue du
Mont-Blanc, where my wife should be living in a house belonging to me!
Bah! the Rue du Mont-Blanc was now the Rue de la Chausee d'Antin; I
could not find my house; it had been sold and pulled down. Speculators
had built several houses over my gardens. Not knowing that my wife