This wandering
life, at a few steps from my friends and my own residence,
occasioned me such painful sensations as I cannot recollect without
shuddering. The room is still present to me; the window where I
passed the whole day, looking out for the messenger, a thousand
painful details, which misfortune always draws after it, the extreme
generosity of some friends, the veiled calculations of others,
altogether put my mind in such a cruel state of agitation, as I
could not wish to my greatest enemy. At last this message, on which
I still placed some hopes, arrived. Joseph sent me some excellent
letters of recommendation for Berlin, and bid me adieu in a most
noble and touching manner. I was obliged, therefore, to depart.
Benjamin Constant was good enough to accompany me; but as he also
was very fond of Paris, I felt extremely for the sacrifice he made
me. Every step the horses advanced made me ill, and when the
postillions boasted of having driven me quickly, I could not help
sighing at the disagreeable service they were rendering me. In this
way I travelled forty leagues without being able to regain my
self-possession. At last we stopped at Chalons, and Benjamin
Constant, rallying his spirits, relieved by his wonderful powers of
conversation, at least for some moments, the weight which oppressed
me. Next day we continued our route as far as Metz, where I wished
to stop to wait for news from my father.
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