"Oh! let business go to the devil! Tis enough to go to Vienna twice a week," said the governor, breaking the seal of the letter. It read thus: "I wish to inform you, my dear baron, that the French Marquis M. de Létorière will arrive to-day at your house to converse with you on the subject of his lawsuit; I need not remind you of the formal promise you have made me to add your vote to those of your colleagues, in favor of the Duke of Brandenbourg. Believe me, my dear baron, etc." "And what the devil is this Frenchman coming here for?" cried the governor, in a passion. "By the Holy Kings of Cologne, am I never to have one moment of repose? Here is this beau of Versailles coming to rouse me like a wild boar from his lair. . . . In my opinion his lawsuit is lost . . . totally lost. . . . What does he want more? Does he believe that I am going to interest myself about him? An impudent little fellow, who embroiders in tambour, and who uses, they say, rouge and patches! One of these men of gallantry, as corrupt as effeminate, always hanging on the skirts of the women! But, by the infernal, I can't escape from this Marquis! If he comes, I shall be obliged to offer him hospitality; it is fifteen leagues from here to Vienna, and I can't send him back without seeing him! I wish the devil had all the lawyers and lawsuits! and he's coming to-night! We must offer him a bed; but where shall he sleep? Everything is dilapidated here, and this beauty will come in a litter, like a woman in labor!" The baron stamped his foot in anger, and calling his major-domo, said with an air of vexation: "Perhaps we shall have a Frenchman here to-night--a Marquis--a pleader;--in such weather we cannot let him go back to Vienna. Where can we put him, him and his suite? For this dandy undoubtedly travels with his train of hair-dressers, bathers and perfumers!" "Faith, my lord," said the major-domo, scratching his ear, "there is only the rat-chamber, where the rain does not come in." "Well then, put him in the rat-chamber." Then the baron added, with a sort of bitter irony: "In order to convey a brilliant impression of the hospitality bestowed at the castle of Henferester, and especially that this delicate visitor may have all his comforts, don't forget, major-domo, to cover his bed with the most beautiful silk curtains, to furnish it with eider-down, and the finest linens of Friesland; to beat well the Turkey carpet; to put perfumed candles into the silver-gilt candlesticks, and to warm his bed with charcoal of aloes wood. Do you understand, major-domo?"