just escaped from a dungeon--"Monsieur, if I had been a handsome young
fellow, none of my misfortunes would have befallen me. Women believe
in men when they flavor their speeches with the word Love. They hurry
then, they come, they go, they are everywhere at once; they intrigue,
they assert facts, they play the very devil for a man who takes their
fancy. But how could I interest a woman? I had a face like a Requiem.
I was dressed like a /sans-culotte/. I was more like an Esquimaux than
a Frenchman--I, who had formerly been considered one of the smartest
of fops in 1799!--I, Chabert, Count of the Empire.

"Well, on the very day when I was turned out into the streets like a
dog, I met the quartermaster of whom I just now spoke. This old
soldier's name was Boutin. The poor devil and I made the queerest pair
of broken-down hacks I ever set eyes on. I met him out walking; but
though I recognized him, he could not possibly guess who I was. We
went into a tavern together. In there, when I told him my name,
Boutin's mouth opened from ear to ear in a roar of laughter, like the
bursting of a mortar. That mirth, monsieur, was one of the keenest
pangs I have known. It told me without disguise how great were the
changes in me! I was, then, unrecognizable even to the humblest and
most grateful of my former friends!

"I had once saved Boutin's life, but it was only the repayment of a
debt I owed him. I need not tell you how he did me this service; it
was at Ravenna, in Italy. The house where Boutin prevented my being
stabbed was not extremely respectable. At that time I was not a
colonel, but, like Boutin himself, a common trooper. Happily there
were certain details of this adventure which could be known only to us
two, and when I recalled them to his mind his incredulity diminished.
I then told him the story of my singular experiences. Although my eyes