Adolphe was writing his _Pauvre Fille_ in collaboration with Ferdinand Langlé, and it was to be ready for a reading in a week's time.
"Ah me! when shall I have reached that stage?" I thought to myself. While I waited, I questioned Adolphe as to the composition of the Ministry. You ask why I wanted to know about the composition of the Ministry, and what I had to do with ministers? Why, I wanted to know what the Duc de Bellune was. As ministers are but mortals, and quickly forgotten when they are dead, it gives me pleasure to draw this minister from his grave, and to acquaint the reader with the constitution of the Ministry of 1823 at the date of my arrival in Paris.
Keeper of the Seals, Comte de Peyronnet. Foreign Minister, Vicomte de Montmorency. Minister for the Interior, Comte de Cubières. Minister for War, _le Maréchal Duc de Bellune_. Minister for the Navy, Marquis de Clermont-Tonnerre. Minister for Finance, Comte de Villèle. King's Chamberlain, M. de Lauriston.
The Duc de Bellune was still War Minister. That was all I wanted to know.
I have mentioned that I was interested in the Duc de Bellune, no matter what office he held. I had a letter of his in my possession, wherein he had thanked my father for a service he had rendered in Italy; he placed himself at my father's disposition, in case he should ever be able to do anything for him. The occasion offered on behalf of the son instead of the father. But as, at that period, the law of inheritance had not yet been abolished, as there was not even talk of abolishing it, I did not doubt that as I had succeeded in the direct line to Napoleon's hatred, I should succeed in direct line also to the gratitude of the Duc de Bellune. I begged a pen and ink from de Leuven; I trimmed the quill with the care the case demanded, and, in my very best handwriting, I drew up a petition asking for an interview with the Minister of War. I particularised all my claims to his favour; I emphasised them in the name of my father, which the marshal could not have forgotten; I recalled the old friendship which had united them, while leaving unmentioned the service my father had rendered him, of which the marshal's letter (he was then a major or a colonel) gave proof. Then, easy about my future, I returned to literature.