afterwards proscribed and shamefully dishonoured. His was a hospitable
house, and he was surrounded by his agreeable family. I had never called
on him, as he was not a 'persona grata' to the king or his relations.

In the course of the dinner a bottle of champagne burst, and a piece of
broken glass struck me just below the eye. It cut a vein, and the blood
gushed over my face, over my clothes, and even over the cloth. Everybody
rose, my wound was bound up, the cloth was changed, and the dinner went
on merrily. I was surprised at the likeness between my dream and this
incident, while I congratulated myself on the happy difference between
them. However, it all came true after a few months.

Madame Binetti, whom I had last seen in London, arrived at Warsaw with
her husband and Pic the dancer. She had a letter of introduction to the
king's brother, who was a general in the Austrian service, and then
resided at Warsaw. I heard that the day they came, when I was at supper
at the palatin's. The king was present, and said he should like to keep
them in Warsaw for a week and see them dance, if a thousand ducats could
do it.

I went to see Madame Binetti and to give her the good news the next
morning. She was very much surprised to meet me in Warsaw, and still more
so at the news I gave her. She called Pic who seemed undecided, but as we
were talking it over, Prince Poniatowski came in to acquaint them with
his majesty's wishes, and the offer was accepted. In three days Pic
arranged a ballet; the costumes, the scenery, the music, the dancers--all
were ready, and Tomatis put it on handsomely to please his generous
master. The couple gave such satisfaction that they were engaged for a
year. The Catai was furious, as Madame Binetti threw her completely into
the shade, and, worse still, drew away her lovers. Tomatis, who was under