point-blank to pay the debt. My grandmother gave him a box on the
ear and slept by herself as a sign of her displeasure. The next
day she sent for her husband, hoping that this domestic punishment
had produced an effect upon him, but she found him inflexible. For
the first time in her life she entered into reasonings and
explanations with him, thinking to be able to convince him by
pointing out to him that there are debts and debts, and that there
is a great difference between a prince and a coachmaker.

"But it was all in vain, my grandfather still remained obdurate.
But the matter did not rest there. My grandmother did not know
what to do. She had shortly before become acquainted with a very
remarkable man. You have heard of Count St. Germain, about whom so
many marvelous stories are told. You know that he represented
himself as the Wandering Jew, as the discoverer of the elixir of
life, of the philosopher's stone, and so forth. Some laughed at
him as a charlatan; but Casnova, in his memoirs, says that he was a
spy. But be that as it may, St. Germain, in spite of the mystery
surrounding him, was a very fascinating person, and was much sought
after in the best circles of society. Even to this day my
grandmother retains an affectionate recollection of him, and
becomes quite angry if anyone speaks disrespectfully of him. My
grandmother knew that St. Germain had large sums of money at his
disposal. She resolved to have recourse to him, and she wrote a
letter to him asking him to come to her without delay. The queer
old man immediately waited upon her, and found her overwhelmed with
grief. She described to him in the blackest colors the barbarity
of her husband, and ended by declaring that her whole hope depended
upon his friendship and amiability.