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Updated: June 17, 2025
I replied, with truth, that I neither knew nor cared, not wishing to wring Mademoiselle Lecouvreur's tender heart with the story of Jacques Haret's latest villainy. We remained an hour. Several times I would have left, but Monsieur Voltaire detained me by a glance. At last, when Mademoiselle Lecouvreur was inclined to sleep, we departed.
His face flushed suddenly, and he turned again in his chair, but said no word, although Jacques Haret's laughing face was thrust toward him. Monsieur Voltaire evidently forgot, in the interest of his letters, the close connection between the Kirkpatricks and one of his guests, so he went on reading.
Fellows of Jacques Haret's kidney can no more keep away from Paris than cats can keep away from cream. So I watched for him, and one evening, soon after the carnival, as I was walking along the Rue St. Jacques, I came face to face with Jacques Haret. It was dusk, but the lamps which hung across the street had not yet been lighted.
I have ever admired Jacques Haret's courage and I admired it now. He knew I meant to thrash him, that I had the strength to do it, and that if he killed me Count Saxe would tear him limb from limb.
"'Dear Peter, she said, 'Lisa will come back she will repent doubt not that and she shall be welcomed as the lost sheep who was found by the Good Shepherd, and restored to the sheepfold. But, for Jacques Haret, there shall be no mercy. Peter, I declare to you, I feel strong enough at this moment to fly at Jacques Haret's throat and strangle him and do God service thereby.
Old Cardinal Fleury's fall from power was much to Jacques Haret's relief, and the cardinal's successor, Jacques thought, would make no trouble about his coming to Paris, and if he were clapped in prison, there would be at least a lettre de cachet and the Bastille, as became a gentleman and a remote connection of the Kirkpatricks, and not the common prison of Paris; at which Madame Riano desired Peter to see that Monsieur Haret's glass was kept filled.
It is in vain that I have reminded him of that old Spanish malediction on an enemy: 'May you marry an only child; may you have a law suit, win it, and have to pay the lawyers!" A flush came into Gaston Cheverny's pale face, and he looked displeased, as well he might, at hearing Mademoiselle Capello's name in Jacques Haret's mouth.
There was here a commingling of tragedy and comedy such as I had seldom seen. I took it that poor old Peter had not seen Jacques Haret during the time he had spent in Gaston's rooms. Madame Riano opened the action by saying sternly: "What are you doing here, Jacques Haret?" "Come to pay my respects to your ladyship," was Jacques Haret's undaunted reply.
I was wakened from sleep in the wintry dawn by the sound of the old man's crying and moaning at my door. He had gone to Jacques Haret's room and found he had decamped. "I opened the door, and there stood the old man he would have fallen but that I held him up. He could utter but one name, the tears meanwhile drenching his poor, wrinkled face: "'Lisa! Lisa! My little Lisa!
Then I saw a figure approaching, hatless and unpowdered, and wrapped in a bed coverlet. It was Count Saxe. He had not gone to sleep, and hearing through his open window Jacques Haret's tale, had sprung from his bed and rushed into the garden. Next to Francezka, Count Saxe, of all the world, wished Gaston Cheverny to be found for reasons easily understood.
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