Our Factory seized the opportunity to pay the French back in kind: neglect for neglect, and slight for slight. Twenty-four boats, carrying the French Consul and all his compatriots--also the Consuls of Venice, Genoa, and Messina, each in a boat flying his national colours--met the man-of-war that bore the noble Marquis in the middle of the bay; but of the English Nation there was no sign or ensign. Neither did the good ship _Hunter_ that chanced to be in port hang out her “Ancient” or fire a gun as the French Ambassador passed by. We simply did not know that “any such person was come.” The French received exactly the treatment they had meted out to us a year ago. “Onely our Consul did more like a Gentleman then theirs.” That this snub might not seem strange to the noble Marquis, Mr. Rycaut sent him a letter in beautiful French, explaining at length the weighty reasons of national dignity which compelled us to abstain from paying his Excellency the homage, etc. M. de Nointel returned a verbal answer: he was sorry for that misunderstanding, but he was none the less the courtly Consul’s friend and servant. “Thus farr things seemd’ to looke like reciprocations, and to be layd asleep.” But Eris--the dread goddess of strife--slept not. She lay awake revolving in her heart how to set the “Nations” by the ears. And behold: twenty-four hours after, at break of day, discord broke forth afresh. As dawn spread her saffron twilight over the Bay of Smyrna, two French ships sailed in: they came from Marseilles, bringing, among other things, many letters for the English Factory. The _Hunter_ did not salute them. And M. de Nointel retaliated by detaining the English letters. Let it be said at once that this fresh neglect had nothing of human design in it: it was a pure accident--solely the work of the mischievous goddess aforesaid. The commander of the _Hunter_, in Sir John’s own words, “having bin merry over night, was not so early in the morning fitted either for ceremony or buisenesse.” Mr. Rycaut, after reprimanding him very severely, sent to the French Consul his excuses, protesting that what seemed a deliberate affront was really done without order and was due entirely to the fact that Captain Parker had passed the night ashore--folk at all acquainted with the traditions of Smyrna did not need to be told more. He begged that the letters might be delivered. But our candid apology met with a worse response than it deserved. The French Consul, in a mighty passion and with much noise, cried out that his Ambassador was highly offended with Mr. Rycaut, that he regarded both him and his Nation as enemies, and that his Excellency was resolved not only to keep those letters, but also to give orders at Marseilles to throw overboard all English despatches that should be consigned to French vessels.