“Here I am arrived at my garrison—the most barren spot in the world! I am lodged with the nuns; they are not like those of Venice, for they see only their nearest relations. I have not got my leave yet, but that does not worry me much; I shall be consoled if I get it soon. I should have gone about it without fail to-day, only I have hurt my foot and may have to rest here a few days. Still, it makes me rage, for I hoped to have gone before the Prince’s departure; now I cannot. See what bad luck I have! Were it not for a stout heart I should break down. Pardon me, I pray, for having advised you to forget me. I am too much your friend not to know I ought to do so; but it is no use. I _cannot_ give you up. I do nothing but weep. My beard is like a hermit’s; my nails are as long as if I were going to dig up my grandfather.... When my servant was combing my hair he found several, at least ten or twelve, grey hairs, which show how I take things to heart. Farewell.” ----- Footnote 181: Another visit to Lützenburg, near Berlin; this was deferred for a time (Colt’s _Despatch_). ----- “DIST, _October_ 27/_November_ 6. “I am in the most cursed hole in the world. I can get nothing I want, neither your letters nor leave from my regiment. I have to-day sent my equipage to Hanover, and am waiting for orders to start; the moment I get them I will post at once to the place where my love calls me. I am desperate at waiting so long for my leave, and will give up the service rather than remain here. If I am driven to that, what would you have me to do? Don’t think you will dissuade me, for my mind is made up, and if I leave the service I shall at least be able to see you secretly. I remember asking you whether you wish me to wear a wig or not; as you haven’t answered, I fear you have not got my letter. I am not expecting any more letters from you here, but I beg you to arrange so that I may find some at Hanover, at our good friend’s. Will _ma petite louche_ write a word or two about her journey, so that our friend may take precautions. I cannot live without you.... I have composed a song in German about my lovely one; I sang it at a party. I told the guests that the beautiful one was called Léonnisse, and they swore that they would drink their toasts to that name. That made me happier, and I drank with them. To make the wine pleasanter, I found an old red ribbon, rather faded, which I dipped into it. You know from whom the ribbon comes. This is the only hour I have had a little happiness for three weeks. I must have some if I am to live. When we meet you will win me back to my merry mood. No fear will make me falter, no obstacles hinder me; dangers will not weaken me—on the contrary, they will increase my passion, and hindrances will make the sweetness all the greater. That is how one should love. Love me