“The man in authority seemed to hesitate, Monsieur le Marquis, but I suppose that when he saw my master so quiet he thought that he could trust him with the accursed thing, and so he came forward and put it into his hand. Monsieur le Vicomte took it very gingerly, as if he were afraid of soiling his fingers—though indeed the paper was quite clean—and read it through once. Then he gave it back and got up from his chair. “‘Thank you, my friend,’ he says with a little smile. ‘I shall be at your service in a few moments. Meanwhile pray make yourselves and your excellent colleagues at home.’ “‘You must come at once!’ says the man threateningly. ‘What are you going to do? Resistance is useless.’ I think he was angry because Monsieur le Vicomte was so polite. “‘I should not dream of resisting you,’ says Monsieur le Vicomte very sweetly, and adds something about his being irresistible. ‘I am only going to finish my toilet.’ Then he turned to me and bade me bring him some fresh shaving water. “Then the man swore, because, being very ill-favoured, he was certain now that Monsieur le Vicomte was laughing at him. ‘You shall come as you are,’ he said with several oaths. “Monsieur le Vicomte said that that was impossible, and he threw open his dressing-gown. ‘I could not conceivably permit myself to shock the delicacy of the nation,’ he says, ‘by going through the streets in this state’—he was in his shirt and breeches, you understand, Monsieur le Marquis. ‘Surely you can amuse yourself while I finish dressing; I shall not be long.’ “They made a great clamour at that, and there was much swearing, and everybody seemed to be in the room at once. But the end of it was that they gave in, because the man in authority remembered that he must look for papers, and, as Monsieur le Vicomte pointed out, he could do that while he himself was being shaved. But when they asked where his papers were he said that last night the ashes were in the grate, but that if Jacques had done his work properly he was afraid they would not be there now. Then they went to see, Monsieur le Marquis, and anyhow it would have been of no use, because Monsieur le Vicomte never burnt them in that grate at all. I heard them breaking open drawers in there, and prayed to heaven that Monsieur Louis would not want me to shave him, because my hand was shaking so, and there were two men guarding the door, and two sitting on the bed with their muskets on their knees. But Monsieur le Vicomte would not take any denial—when he really meant a thing he never would—and I began and I cut him at once. ‘Give me the razor, Jasmin, you heart of hare,’ he says. ‘I do not want my throat cut before my time.’ So he took it, and finished shaving himself as cool as you please, and all the while they were stamping in and out, and swearing and breaking things, and telling Monsieur le Vicomte to make haste. But he took very little notice of them until he had finished shaving.