My horses were ordered for five o'clock in the morning. My man servant must have gone to make his adieus to some friends, for he did not appear, and in Prussia, as every one knows, horses do not wait. I got up and dressed in a thoroughly sleepy condition. Meanwhile the porter of my hotel, not seeing my man, took my jewel-case downstairs with my remaining effects. This jewel-case, which contained all my diamonds and other ornaments, and my cash--my whole fortune, in fact--I always had under my feet when travelling. By the greatest luck, as soon as I got into my carriage, though half asleep, I noticed that my feet were not supported as usual. The horses were just off. I cried out to have them stopped, and then called to the porter for my jewel-case, purposely making enough noise to wake the mistress of the house. And I was successful, for, after some evasions by the porter, the case was brought out. It had been found in a stable at the back of the yard, all covered with hay. The incident had given my man time to arrive, and I drove away in high spirits, as may well be imagined, at having recovered both my servant and my jewel-case. I record the adventure thinking it may be useful as a lesson to absent-minded travellers. From Berlin I went to Dresden, and then on to Brunswick, where I spent a few days with the Riviere family. Between Brunswick and Weimar my postilion lost the way, and we were stuck for hours in the heaviest soil. I remember that as a truce to my impatience--and more particularly to my appetite--I gathered up some of that wretched earth and tried to model a head with it; I really achieved something that looked like a face. Though furnished with letters for the court at Weimar, I did not present them, but after a day's rest proceeded to Gotha. Here I met an old friend I had known in Paris, Baron Grimm, who very civilly attended to all my wants for the journey, which I did not again interrupt until I reached Frankfort. We were obliged to wait at Frankfort six days, during which I was very much bored. To pass the time I mended my old shirts, and the Lord knows what sort of sewing that was! On reaching Paris I engaged a chambermaid, who remarked, when she saw my mending, "Any one can see that Madame has been in a savage country, for this is sewn like the devil." I laughed and informed her that it was my own handiwork. The poor girl, quite embarrassed, was eager to take back what she had said, but I reassured her by acknowledging that I had never been an adept with the needle. I will not attempt to describe my feelings at setting foot on the soil of France, from which I had been absent twelve years. I was stirred by terror, grief and joy in turn. I mourned the friends who had died on the scaffold; but I was to see those again who still lived. This France, that I was entering once more, had been the scene of horrible crimes. But this France was my country! CHAPTER XV OLD FRIENDS AND NEW