I found myself so cheerful that I went all the way singing; I even remember I sang a cantata of Batistin's called the Baths of Thomery, which I knew by heart.
May a blessing light on the good Batistin and his good cantata, which procured me a better breakfast than I had expected, and a still better dinner which I did not expect at all! In the midst of my singing, I heard some one behind me, and turning round perceived an Antonine, who followed after and seemed to listen with pleasure to my song.
At length accosting me, he asked, If I understood music.

I answered, "A little," but in a manner to have it understood I knew a great deal, and as he continued questioning of me, related a part of my story.
He asked me, If I had ever copied music?
I replied, "Often," which was true: I had learned most by copying.

"Well," continued he, "come with me, I can employ you for a few days, during which time you shall want for nothing; provided you consent not to quit my room." I acquiesced very willingly, and followed him.
This Antonine was called M.Rotichon; he loved music, understood it, and sang in some little concerts with his friends; thus far all was innocent and right, but apparently this taste had become a furor, part of which he was obliged to conceal.

He conducted me into a chamber, where I found a great quantity of music: he gave me some to copy, particularly the cantata he had heard me singing, and which he was shortly to sing himself.
I remained here three or four days, copying all the time I did not eat, for never in my life was I so hungry, or better fed.

M.Rolichon brought my provisions himself from the kitchen, and it appeared that these good priests lived well, at least if every one fared as I did.