A short time after, he desired one of the waiters to call for a gentleman
whose name was Termes. He immediately appeared; and as soon as the
master of the feast saw him, he rose from table, and offering him his
hand; "Welcome, my friend," said he; "you see that I have taken good care
of the coat which you sold me with so much reluctance, and that I have
kept it for a good purpose."

Termes, having put on a face of brass, pretended not to know him, and
pushed him back with some degree of rudeness. "No, no!" said the other;
"since I was obliged to sit up with you the whole night, in order to
strike the bargain, you shall pledge me in the bride's health."
The Chevalier de Grammont, who saw that Termes was disconcerted,
notwithstanding his impudence, said to him with a smile: "Come, come, my
good London merchant, sit down, as you are so civilly invited: we are not
so crowded at table but that there will be room enough for such an honest
gentleman as yourself." At these words five-and-thirty of the guests
were in motion to receive this new visitor: the bride alone, out of an
idea of decorum, remained seated; and the audacious Termes, having
swallowed the first shame of this adventure, began to lay about him at
such a rate, as if it had been his intention to swallow all the wine
provided for the wedding, if his master had not risen from the table as
they were taking off four-and-twenty soups, to serve up as many other
dishes in their stead.

The company were not so unreasonable as to desire a man who was in such
haste to remain to the end of a wedding dinner; but they all got up when
he arose from table, and all that he could obtain from the bridegroom was
that the company should not attend him to the gate of the inn. As for
Termes, he wished they had not quitted him till the end of their journey,
so much did he dread being left alone with his master.