The conversation at dinner at first turned on the interview of the King with Napoleon at Bellevue, near Sedan, respecting which Russell sent a full report to _The Times_, although the two Sovereigns were alone and the Chancellor himself was only aware of what had passed in so far as the King had assured him that there had been absolutely no reference to politics. “As a matter of fact,” said the Chancellor, “it would not have been nice of ‘our Most Gracious’ to have maintained silence only towards his Ministers. Russell must unquestionably have received his news from the Crown Prince.” I now forgot how and by whom the subject of dangerous touring expeditions was introduced, but the Minister himself related some daring enterprises of his own. “I remember,” he said, “being once with a party, amongst whom were the Orloffs, in South France, near the Pont du Gard. An old Roman aqueduct of several stories crossed the valley. Princess Orloff, a very spirited lady, proposed that we should go across over it. There was a very narrow path, about a foot and a half wide, along one side of the old water channel, and on the other side a wall of big slabs of stone. It looked a very hazardous undertaking, but I could not allow myself to be beaten by a woman. We two accordingly started on this enterprise, Orloff going with the rest of the company down by the valley. For some time we walked on all right along the stone wall, from which we could see a depth of several hundred feet beneath us. Further on, however, the stones had fallen off and we had to pick our way along the narrow ledge. Then we came to another stretch of relatively easy going, but after there was another very bad bit on an unsafe ledge. Screwing up my courage I stepped out quickly after the Princess, and grasping her with one arm, jumped down with her into the channel some four to five feet deep. Our companions below, who had suddenly lost sight of us, were in the greatest anxiety until at length we came out on the other side.” In the evening I was called to the Chief to receive instructions respecting Garibaldi, who, according to a telegram from Tours, had arrived there and offered his services to the French Republic. The Chancellor said: “But just tell me why you sometimes write in such a sledge-hammer style? It is true I have not seen the text of your telegram about Russell, but your recent article on the Ultramontanes in the _Norddeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung_ was very strongly worded. Surely the Saxons are usually regarded as a very polite race, and if you have any ambition to become Court Historian to the Foreign Office, you must not be so violent.” I ventured to reply that I could also be polite, and was capable of irony without rudeness. “Well, then,” he said, “be polite but without irony. Write diplomatically. Even in a declaration of war one observes the rules of politeness.”