I kept to myself my opinion of M. de Sérigny. He had been kind to me, and I was not Pommerive. Far from it, I defended my minister with all my might. My duties amused me a good deal, for the very reason that their futility contrasted in a flagrant manner with their supposed importance. The knowledge of these facts aroused in me charitable sentiments; I became very tolerant of that pitiless and affected self-importance, thanks to which most of our diplomatic agents always deceive the public on the value and the necessity of their position. Without this prestige, they would cease to exist. If I have never had the whim to become the associate or the dupe of a juggler, neither have I been malicious enough, when I fancied I had discovered his tricks, to proclaim it aloud, thus depriving the poor devil of his audience; for I never could picture to myself the future of a juggler deprived of his trade. I would, therefore, advise poor parents who destine their sons to a diplomatic career to be wise enough, to have sufficient foresight, to make them also learn some good solid trade which may some day be a useful resource should unexpected accidents deprive them of their first career. This is not a brutal paradox. The essential specialty of our diplomats, consisting in worthily representing France, that is, in having a grand house and retinue at the expense of the state, in leading a luxurious, worldly, and amusing life, in receiving and writing insignificant despatches, it is difficult to imagine how these fine qualities could be employed when no longer exercising the profession which required them. My new position with M. de Sérigny soon became known, and gave me singular authority in the world. People knew that I had not sought a place, in devoting myself assiduously to the work on which I was engaged, and they naturally concluded that my apprenticeship must lead to high destinies. Circumstances occurred which contributed to these exaggerated rumours. It was at a ball at the Duchesse de Berri's. M. de Sérigny was laid up with the gout, and therefore could not be present. Lord Stuart, the British ambassador, who had earnestly urged our government to take the most active steps to discover the pirate of Porquerolles, came up to tell me that they were on the tracks of the wretch, hoped soon to reach him, and asked me for further particulars of the affair. He took my arm, and we had a half-hour's talk in the recess of a window. This was enough to make people believe that I was far advanced in what is benignantly called "secrets of state." This was not all: about eleven o'clock I was going to leave the ball just at the moment the king was taking his departure. I had had the honour to be presented to him; he stopped in front of me, and said, with his customary gracious affability: