It is Sunday, the 26th of April; this letter will not go till Wednesday. It is not really a letter, but an account, which Moreuil has just given me for your benefit, of what happened at Chantilly concerning Vatel. I wrote you on Friday that he had stabbed himself; here is the story in detail.

The promenade, the collation in a spot carpeted with jon quils, – all was going to perfection. Supper came; the roast failed at one or two tables on account of a number of unexpected guests. This upset Vatel. He said several times, “My honor is lost; this is a humiliation that I cannot endure.” Gourville consoled him as best he could, but the roast which had failed, not at the king’s, but at the twenty-fifth table, haunted his mind. Gourville told Monsieur le Prince about it, and Monsieur le Prince went up to Vatel in his own room and said to him, “Vatel, all goes well; there never was anything so beautiful as the king’s supper.” He answered, “Monseigneur, your goodness overwhelms me. I know that the roast failed at two tables.” “Nothing of the sort,” said Monsieur le Prince. “Do not disturb yourself, all is well.”

Midnight comes. The fireworks do not succeed on account of a cloud that overspreads them (they cost sixteen thousand francs). At four o’clock in the morning Vatel is wandering about all over the place. Everything is asleep. He meets a small purveyor with two loads of fish and asks him, “Is this all?” “Yes, sir.” The man did not know that Vatel had sent to all the seaport towns in France. Vatel waits some time, but the other purveyors do not arrive; he gets excited; he thinks that there will he no more fish. He finds Gourville and says to him, “Sir, I shall not be able to survive this disgrace.” Gourville only laughs at him. Then Vatel goes up to his own room, puts his sword against the door, and runs it through his heart, but only at the third thrust, for he gave himself two wounds which were not mortal. He falls dead.

Gourville, however, tried to repair the loss of Vatel, and did repair it. The dinner was excellent; so was the luncheon. They supped, they walked, they played, they hunted. The scent of jonquils was everywhere; it was all enchanting.