My enemy said to his companion that they would see one another again after the play, and remained by the fire, with his elbow resting on the chimney-piece.  I remained at table till the company had all left the room, and when we were alone together I got up and looked him straight in the face, and went out, walking towards Sheveningue, sure that he would follow me if he were a man of any mettle.  When I had got to some distance from the hotel I looked round, and saw that he was following me at a distance of fifty paces.

When I got to the wood I stopped at a suitable place, and stood awaiting my antagonist.  He was ten paces off when he drew his sword, and I had plenty of time to draw mine though he came on fast.  The fight did not last long, for as soon as he was near enough I gave him a thrust which has never failed me, and sent him back quicker than he came.  He was wounded in the chest above the right breast, but as my sword was flat and the opening large enough the wound bled easily.  I lowered my sword and ran up to him, but I could do nothing; he said that we should meet again at Amsterdam, if I was going there, and that he would have his revenge.  I saw him again five or six years afterwards at Warsaw, and then I did him a kindness.  I heard afterwards that his name was Varnier, but I do not know whether he was identical with the president of the National Convention under the infamous Robespierre.

I did not return to the hotel till after the play, and I then heard that the Frenchman, after having the surgeon with him for an hour, had set out for Rotterdam with his friend.  We had a pleasant supper and talked cheerfully together without a word being said about the duel, with the exception that an English lady said, I forget in what connection, that a man of honour should never risk sitting down to dinner at an hotel unless he felt inclined, if necessary, to fight.  The remark was very true at that time, when one had to draw the sword for an idle word, and to expose one’s self to the consequences of a duel, or else be pointed at, even by the ladies, with the finger of scorn.

I had nothing more to keep me at the Hague, and I set out next morning before day-break for Amsterdam.  On the way I stopped for dinner and recognized Sir James Walpole, who told me that he had started from Amsterdam the evening before, an hour after giving the countess into her husband’s charge.  He said that he had got very tired of her, as he had nothing more to get from a woman who gave more than one asked, if one’s purse-strings were opened wide enough.  I got to Amsterdam about midnight and took up my abode at “The Old Bible.”  The neighbourhood of Esther had awakened my love for that charming girl, and I was so impatient to see her that I could not sleep.

I went out about ten o’clock and called on M. d’O, who welcomed me in the friendliest manner and reproached me for not having alighted at his house.  When he heard that I had given up business he congratulated me on not having removed it into Holland, as I should have been ruined.  I did not tell him that I had nearly come to that in France, as I considered such a piece of information would not assist my designs.  He complained bitterly of the bad faith of the French Government, which had involved him in considerable losses; and then he asked me to come and see Esther.