A Swiss landlord only takes the chief place at table to see that everyone is properly attended to.  If he have a son, he does not sit down with his father, but waits on the guests, with napkin in hand.  At Schaffhaus, my landlord’s son, who was a captain in the Imperial army, stood behind my chair and changed my plate, while his father sat at the head of the table.  Anywhere else the son would have been waited on, but in his father’s house he thought, and rightly, that it was an honour to wait.

Such are Swiss customs, of which persons of superficial understanding very foolishly make a jest.  All the same, the vaunted honour and loyalty of the Swiss do not prevent them from fleecing strangers, at least as much as the Dutch, but the greenhorns who let themselves be cheated, learn thereby that it is well to bargain before-hand, and then they treat one well and charge reasonably.  In this way, when I was at Bale, I baffled the celebrated Imhoff, the landlord of the “Three Kings.”

M. Ote complimented me on my waiter’s disguise, and said he was sorry not to have seen me officiating, nevertheless, he said he thought I was wise not to repeat the jest.  He thanked me for the honour I had done his house, and begged me to do him the additional favour of dining at his table some day before I left.  I answered that I would dine with him with pleasure that very day.  I did so, and was treated like a prince.

The reader will have guessed that the last look my charmer gave me had not extinguished the fire which the first sight of her had kindled in my breast.  It had rather increased my flame by giving me hopes of being better acquainted with her; in short, it inspired me with the idea of going to Soleure in order to give a happy ending to the adventure.  I took a letter of credit on Geneva, and wrote to Madame d’Urfe, begging her to give me a written introduction, couched in strong terms to M. de Chavigni, the French ambassador, telling her that the interests of our order were highly involved in my knowing this diplomatist, and requesting her to address letters to me at the post office at Soleure.  I also wrote to the Duke of Wurtemburg, but had no answer from him, and indeed he must have found my epistle very unpleasant reading.

I visited the old woman whom Giustiniani had told me of several times before I left Zurich, and although I ought to have been well satisfied as far as physical beauty was concerned, my enjoyment was very limited, as the nymphs I wooed only spoke Swiss dialect—­a rugged corruption of German.  I have always found that love without speech gives little enjoyment, and I cannot imagine a more unsatisfactory mistress than a mute, were she as lovely as Venus herself.

I had scarcely left Zurich when I was obliged to stop at Baden to have the carriage M. Ote had got me mended.  I might have started again at eleven, but on hearing that a young Polish lady on her way to Our Lady of Einseidel was to dine at the common table, I decided to wait; but I had my trouble for nothing, as she turned out to be quite unworthy of the delay.