RAYMOND DE VILLIERS _to_ M. EDGAR DE MEILHAN,
Richeport, near Pont de l'Arche (Eure).

GRENOBLE, Hotel of the Prefecture, May 22d 18--.

Do not expect me, dear Edgar, I shall not be at Richeport the 24th. When
shall I? I cannot tell.

I write to you from a bed of pain, bruised, wounded, burnt, half dead.
It served me right, you will say, on learning that I am here for the
commission of the greatest crime that can be tried before your tribunal.
It is only too true--I have saved the life of an ugly woman!

But I saved her at night, when I innocently supposed her beautiful--let
this be the extenuating circumstance. That no delay may attend your
decision, here is the whole story.

Travel from pole to pole--wander to and fro over the world, it is not
impossible, by God's help, to escape the thousand and one annoyances
that are scattered over the surface of this terraqueous globe, but it is
impossible, go where you will, to evade England, the gayest nation to be
found, especially in travelling.

At Rome, this winter, Lord K. told me seriously that he had set out from
London, some years since, with the one object of finding some corner of
the earth on which no foot had ever trod before, and there to fix the
first glorious impress of a British boot. The English occasionally, for
amusement, indulge in such notions.