MEMOIRS OF JACQUES CASANOVA de SEINGALT 1725-1798

SPANISH PASSIONS, Volume 6b--EXPELLED FROM SPAIN

THE RARE UNABRIDGED LONDON EDITION OF 1894 TRANSLATED BY ARTHUR MACHEN TOWHICH HAS BEEN ADDED THE CHAPTERS DISCOVERED BY ARTHUR SYMONS. 

EXPELLED FROM SPAIN

CHAPTER VII

I Make a Mistake and Manucci Becomes My Mortal Foe--His Vengeance--ILeave Madrid--Saragossa--Valentia--Nina--I Arrive at Barcelona

If these Memoirs, only written to console me in the dreadful wearinesswhich is slowly killing me in Bohemia--and which, perhaps, would kill meanywhere, since, though my body is old, my spirit and my desires are asyoung as ever--if these Memoirs are ever read, I repeat, they will onlybe read when I am gone, and all censure will be lost on me. 

Nevertheless, seeing that men are divided into two sections, the one andby far the greater composed of the ignorant and superficial, and theother of the learned and reflective, I beg to state that it is to thelatter I would appeal. Their judgment, I believe, will be in favour of myveracity, and, indeed, why should I not be veracious? A man can have noobject in deceiving himself, and it is for myself that I chiefly write. 

Hitherto I have spoken nothing but the truth, without considering whetherthe truth is in my favour or no. My book is not a work of dogmatictheology, but I do not think it will do harm to anyone; while I fancythat those who know how to imitate the bee and to get honey from everyflower will be able to extract some good from the catalogue of my vicesand virtues. 

After this digression (it may be too long, but that is my business andnone other's), I must confess that never have I had so unpleasant a truthto set down as that which I am going to relate. I committed a fatal actof indiscretion--an act which after all these years still gives my hearta pang as I think of it. 

The day after my conquest I dined with the Venetian ambassador, and I hadthe pleasure of hearing that all the ministers and grandees with whom Ihad associated had the highest possible opinion of me. In three or fourdays the king, the royal family, and the ministers would return to town, and I expected to have daily conferences with the latter respecting thecolony in the Sierra Morena, where I should most probably be going. Manucci, who continued to treat me as a valued friend, proposed toaccompany me on my journey, and would bring with him an adventuress, whocalled herself Porto-Carrero, pretending to be the daughter or niece ofthe late cardinal of that name, and thus obtained a good deal ofconsideration; though in reality she was only the mistress of the Frenchconsul at Madrid, the Abbe Bigliardi. 

Such was the promising state of my prospects when my evil genius broughtto Madrid a native of Liege, Baron de Fraiture, chief huntsman of theprincipality, and a profligate, a gamester, and a cheat, like all thosewho proclaim their belief in his honesty nowadays. 

I had unfortunately met him at Spa, and told him I was was going toPortugal. He had come after me, hoping to use me as a means of gettinginto good society, and of filling his pocket with the money of the dupeshe aspired to make. 

Gamesters have never had any proof of my belonging to their infernalclique, but they have always persisted in believing that I too am a"Greek. "

As soon as this baron heard that I was in Madrid he called on me, and bydint of politeness obliged me to receive him. I thought any smallcivilities I might shew or introductions I might give could do me noharm. He had a travelling companion to whom he introduced me. He was afat, ignorant fellow, but a Frenchman, and therefore agreeable. AFrenchman who knows how to present himself, who is well dressed, and hasthe society air, is usually accepted without demur or scrutiny. He hadbeen a cavalry captain, but had been fortunate enough to obtain aneverlasting furlough. 

Four or five days after his appearance the baron asked me quietly enoughto lend him a score of louis, as he was hard up. I replied as quietly, thanking him for treating me as a friend, but informing him that I reallycould not lend him the money, as I wanted what little I had for my ownnecessities. 

"But we can do good business together, and you cannot possibly bemoneyless. "

"I do not know anything about good business, but I do know that I want mymoney and cannot part with it. "

"We are at our wits' end to quiet our landlord; come and speak to him. "

"If I were to do so I should do you more harm than good. He would ask meif I would answer for you, and I should reply that you are one of thosenoblemen who stand in need of no surety. All the same, the landlord wouldthink that if I did not stand your surety, it must be from myentertaining doubts as to your solvency. "

I had introduced Fraiture to Count Manucci, on the Pando, and herequested me to take him to see the count, to which request I was foolishenough to accede. 

A few days later the baron opened his soul to Manucci. 

He found the Venetian disposed to be obliging, but wary. He refused tolend money himself, but introduced the baron to someone who lent himmoney on pledges without interest. 

The baron and his friend did a little gaming and won a little money, butI held aloof from them to the best of my ability. 

I had my colony and Donna Ignazia, and wanted to live peacefully; and ifI had spent a single night away from home, the innocent girl would havebeen filled with alarm. 

About that time M. De Mocenigo went as ambassador to France, and wasreplaced by M. Querini. Querini was a man of letters, while Mocenigo onlyliked music and his own peculiar kind of love. 

The new ambassador was distinctly favourable to me, and in a few days Ihad reason to believe that he would do more for me than ever Mocenigowould have done. 

In the meanwhile, the baron and his friend began to think of beating aretreat to France. There was no gaming at the ambassador's and no gamingat the Court; they must return to France, but they owed money to theirlandlord, and they wanted money for the journey. I could give themnothing, Manucci would give them nothing; we both pitied them, but ourduty to ourselves made us cruel to everyone else. However, he broughttrouble on us. 

One morning Manucci came to see me in evident perturbation. 

"What is the matter?" said I. 

"I do not know exactly. For the last week I have refused to see the BaronFraiture, as not being able to give him money, his presence only weariedme. He has written me a letter, in which he threatens to blow out hisbrains to-day if I will not lend him a hundred pistoles. "

"He said the same thing to me three days ago; but I replied that I wouldbet two hundred pistoles that he would do nothing of the kind. This madehim angry, and he proposed to fight a duel with me; but I declined on theplea that as he was a desperate man either he would have an advantageover me or I, over him. Give him the same answer, or, better still, noanswer at all. "

"I cannot follow your advice. Here are the hundred pistoles. Take them tohim and get a receipt. "

I admired his generosity and agreed to carry out his commission. I calledon the baron, who seemed rather uncomfortable when I walked in; butconsidering his position I was not at all surprised. 

I informed him that I was the bearer of a thousand francs from CountManucci, who thereby placed him in a position to arrange his affairs andto leave Madrid. He received the money without any signs of pleasure, surprise, or gratitude, and wrote out the receipt. He assured me that heand his friend would start for Barcelona and France on the following day. 

I then took the document to Manucci, who was evidently suffering fromsome mental trouble; and I remained to dinner with the ambassador. It wasfor the last time. 

Three days after I went to dine with the ambassadors (for they all dinedtogether), but to my astonishment the porter told me that he had receivedorders not to admit me. 

The effect of this sentence on me was like that of a thunderbolt; Ireturned home like a man in a dream. I immediately sat down and wrote toManucci, asking him why I had been subjected to such an insult; butPhilippe, my man, brought me back the letter unopened. 

This was another surprise; I did not know what to expect next. "What canbe the matter?" I said to myself. "I cannot imagine, but I will have anexplanation, or perish. "

I dined sadly with Donna Ignazia, without telling her the cause of mytrouble, and just as I was going to take my siesta a servant of Manucci'sbrought me a letter from his master and fled before I could read it. Theletter contained an enclosure which I read first. It was from Baron deFraiture. He asked Manucci to lend him a hundred pistoles, promising toshew him the man whom he held for his dearest friend to be his worstenemy. 

Manucci (honouring me, by the way, with the title of ungrateful traitor)said that the baron's letter had excited his curiosity and he had methim in St. Jerome's Park, where the baron had clearly proved this enemyto be myself, since I had informed the baron that though the name ofManucci was genuine the title of count was quite apocryphal. 

After recapitulating the information which Fraiture had given him, andwhich could only have proceeded from myself, he advised me to leaveMadrid as soon as possible, in a week at latest. 

I can give the reader no idea of the shock this letter gave me. For thefirst time in my life I had to confess myself guilty of folly, ingratitude, and crime. I felt that my fault was beyond forgiveness, anddid not think of asking Manucci to pardon me; I could do nothing butdespair. 

Nevertheless, in spite of Manucci's just indignation, I could not helpseeing that he had made a great mistake in advising me, in so insulting amanner, to leave Madrid in a week. The young man might have known that myself-respect would forbid my following such a piece of advice. He couldnot compel me to obey his counsel or command; and to leave Madrid wouldhave been to commit a second baseness worse than the first. 

A prey to grief I spent the day without taking any steps one way or theother, and I went to bed without supping and without the company of DonnaIgnazia. 

After a sound sleep I got up and wrote to the friend whom I had offendeda sincere and humble confession of my fault. I concluded my letter bysaying that I hoped that this evidence of my sincere and heartfeltrepentance would suffice, but if not that I was ready to give him anyhonourable satisfaction in my power. 

"You may, " I said, "have me assassinated if you like, but I shall notleave Madrid till its suits me to do so. "

I put a commonplace seal on my letter, and had the address written byPhilippe, whose hand was unknown to Manucci, and then I sent it to Pandowhere the king had gone. 

I kept my room the whole day; and Donna Ignazia, seeing that I hadrecovered my spirits to some degree, made no more enquiries about thecause of my distress. I waited in the whole of the next day, expecting areply, but in vain. 

The third day, being Sunday, I went out to call on the Prince dellaCatolica. My carriage stopped at his door, but the porter came out andtold me in a polite whisper that his highness had his reasons for notreceiving me any longer. 

This was an unexpected blow, but after it I was prepared for anything. 

I drove to the Abbe Bigliardi, but the lackey, after taking in my name, informed me that his master was out. 

I got into my carriage and went to Varnier, who said he wanted to speakto me. 

"Come into my carriage, " said I, "we will go and hear mass together. "

On our way he told me that the Venetian ambassador, Mocenigo, had warnedthe Duke of Medina Sidonia that I was a dangerous character. 

"The duke, " he added, "replied that he would cease to know you as soon ashe found out the badness of your character himself. "

These three shocks, following in such quick succession, cast me into astate of confusion. I said nothing till we heard mass together, but Ibelieve that if I had not then told him the whole story I should have hadan apoplectic fit. 

Varnier pitied me, and said, --

"Such are the ways of the great when they have abjured all virtue andhonesty. Nevertheless, I advise you to keep silence about it, unless youwould irritate Manucci still farther. "

When I got home I wrote to Manucci begging him to suspend his vengeance, or else I should be obliged to tell the story to all those who insultedme for the ambassador's sake. I sent the letter to M. Soderini, thesecretary of the embassy, feeling sure that he would forward it toManucci. 

I dined with my mistress, and took her to the bull fight, where I chancedto find myself in a box adjoining that in which Manucci and the twoambassadors were seated. I made them a bow which they were obliged toreturn, and did not vouchsafe them another glance for the rest of thespectacle. 

The next day the Marquis Grimaldi refused to receive me, and I saw that Ishould have to abandon all hope. The Duke of Lossada remained my friendon account of his dislike to the ambassador and his unnatural tastes; buthe told me that he had been requested not to receive me, and that he didnot think I had the slightest chance of obtaining any employment atCourt. 

I could scarcely believe in such an extremity of vengeance: Manucci wasmaking a parade of the influence he possessed over his wife theambassador. In his insane desire for revenge he had laid all shame aside. 

I was curious to know whether he had forgotten Don Emmanuel de Roda andthe Marquis de la Moras; I found both of them had been forewarned againstme. There was still the Count of Aranda, and I was just going to see himwhen a servant of his highness's came and told me that his master wishedto see me. 

I shuddered, for in my then state of mind I drew the most sinisterconclusions from the message. 

I found the great man alone, looking perfectly calm. This made me pluckup a heart. He asked me to sit down--a favour he had not hitherto doneme, and this further contributed to cheer me. 

"What have you been doing to offend your ambassador?" he began. 

"My lord, I have done nothing to him directly, but by an inexcusable actof stupidity I have wounded his dear friend Manucci in his tenderestpart. With the most innocent intentions I reposed my confidence in acowardly fellow, who sold it to Manucci for a hundred pistoles. In hisirritation, Manucci has stirred up the great man against me: 'hinc illaelacrimae'. "

"You have been unwise, but what is done is done. I am sorry for you, because there is an end to all your hopes of advancement. The first thingthe king would do would be to make enquiries about you of theambassador. "

"I feel it to my sorrow, my lord, but must I leave Madrid?"

"No. The ambassador did his best to make me send you way, but I told himthat I had no power over you so long as you did not infringe the laws. "

"'He has calumniated a Venetian subject whom I am bound to protect, ' saidhe. 

"'In that case, ' I replied, 'you can resort to the ordinary law, andpunish him to the best of your ability. '"

"The ambassador finally begged me to order you not to mention the matterto any Venetian subjects at Madrid, and I think you can safely promise methis. "

"My lord, I have much pleasure in giving your excellency my word ofhonour not to do so. "

"Very good. Then you can stay at Madrid as long as you please; and, indeed, Mocenigo will be leaving in the course of a week. "

From that moment I made up my mind to amuse myself without any thought ofobtaining a position in Spain. However, the ties of friendship made mekeep up my acquaintance with Varnier, the Duke of Medina Sidonia, and thearchitect, Sabatini, who always gave me a warm welcome, as did his wife. 

Donna Ignazia had more of my company than ever, and congratulated me onmy freedom from the cares of business. 

After the departure of Mocenigo I thought I would go and see if Querini, his nephew, was equally prejudiced against me. The porter told me that hehad received orders not to admit me, and I laughed in the man's face. 

Six or seven weeks after Manucci's departure I, too, left Madrid. I didso on compulsion, in spite of my love for Ignazia, for I had no longerhopes of doing anything in Portugal, and my purse was nearly exhausted. 

I thought of selling a handsome repeater and a gold snuff-box so as toenable me to go to Marseilles, whence I thought of going toConstantinople and trying my fortune there without turning renegade. Doubtless, I should have found the plan unsuccessful, for I was attainingan age when Fortune flies. I had no reason, however, to complain ofFortune, for she had been lavish in her gifts to me, and I in my turn hadalways abused them. 

In my state of distress the learned Abbe Pinzi introduced me to a Genoesebookseller, named Carrado, a thoroughly honest man, who seemed to havebeen created that the knavery of most of the Genoese might be pardoned. To him I brought my watch and snuff-box, but the worthy Carrado not onlyrefused to buy them, but would not take them in pledge. He gave meseventeen hundred francs with no other security than my word that I wouldrepay him if I were ever able to do so. Unhappily I have never been ableto repay this debt, unless my gratitude be accounted repayment. 

As nothing is sweeter than the companionship between a man and the womanhe adores, so nothing is bitterer than the separation; the pleasure hasvanished away, and only the pain remains. 

I spent my last days at Madrid drinking the cup of pleasure which wasembittered by the thought of the pain that was to follow. The worthyDiego was sad at the thought of losing me, and could with difficultyrefrain from tears. 

For some time my man Philippe continued to give me news of Donna Ignazia. She became the bride of a rich shoemaker, though her father was extremelymortified by her making a marriage so much beneath her station. 

I had promised the Marquis de las Moras and Colonel Royas that I wouldcome and see them at Saragossa, the capital of Aragon, and I arrivedthere at the beginning of September. My stay lasted for a fortnight, during which time I was able to examine the manners and customs of theAragonese, who were not subject to the ordinances of the Marquis ofAranda, as long cloaks and low hats were to be seen at every corner. Theylooked like dark phantoms more than men, for the cloak covered up atleast half the face. Underneath the cloak was carried el Spadino, a swordof enormous length. Persons who wore this costume were treated with greatrespect, though they were mostly arrant rogues; still they might possiblybe powerful noblemen in disguise. 

The visitor to Saragossa should see the devotion which is paid to ourLady del Pilar. I have seen processions going along the streets in whichwooden statues of gigantic proportions were carried. I was taken to thebest assemblies, where the monks swarmed. I was introduced to a lady ofmonstrous size, who, I was informed, was cousin to the famous Palafox, and I did not feel my bosom swell with pride as was evidently expected. Ialso made the acquaintance of Canon Pignatelli, a man of Italian origin. He was President of the Inquisition, and every morning he imprisoned theprocuress who had furnished him with the girl with whom he had supped andslept. He would wake up in the morning tired out with the pleasures ofthe night; the girl would be driven away and the procuress imprisoned. Hethen dressed, confessed, said mass, and after an excellent breakfast withplenty of good wine he would send out for another girl, and this would goon day after day. Nevertheless, he was held in great respect atSaragossa, for he was a monk, a canon, and an Inquisitor. 

The bull fights were finer at Saragossa than at Madrid--that is to say, they were deadlier; and the chief interest of this barbarous spectaclelies in the shedding of blood. The Marquis de las Moras and Colonel Royasgave me some excellent dinners. The marquis was one of the pleasantestmen I met in Spain; he died very young two years after. 

The Church of Nuestra Senora del Pilar is situated on the ramparts of thetown, and the Aragonese fondly believe this portion of the town defencesto be impregnable. 

I had promised Donna Pelliccia to go and see her at Valentia, and on myway I saw the ancient town of Saguntum on a hill at some little distance. There was a priest travelling with me and I told him and the driver (whopreferred his mules to all the antiquities in the world) that I shouldlike to go and see the town. How the muleteer and the priest objected tothis proposal!

"There are only ruins there, senor. "

"That's just what I want to see. "

"We shall never get to Valentia to-night. "

"Here's a crown; we shall get there to-morrow. "

The crown settled everything, and the man exclaimed, "Valga me Dios, es un hombre de buen!" (So help me God, this is an honestman!) A subject of his Catholic majesty knows no heartier praise thanthis. 

I saw the massive walls still standing and in good condition, and yetthey were built during the second Punic War. I saw on two of the gatewaysinscriptions which to me were meaningless, but which Seguier, the oldfriend of the Marquis Maffei, could no doubt have deciphered. 

The sight of this monument to the courage of an ancient race, whopreferred to perish in the flames rather than surrender, excited my aweand admiration. The priest laughed at me, and I am sure he would not havepurchased this venerable city of the dead if he could have done so bysaying a mass. The very name has perished; instead of Saguntum it iscalled Murviedro from the Latin 'muri veteres' (old walls); but Time thatdestroys marble and brass destroys also the very memory of what has been. 

"This place, " said the priest, "is always called Murviedro. "

"It is ridiculous to do so, " I replied; "common sense forbids us callinga thing old which was once young enough. That's as if you would tell methat New Castille is really new. "

"Well, Old Castille is more ancient than New Castille. "

"No so. New Castille was only called so because it was the latestconquest; but as a matter of fact it is the older of the two. "

The poor priest took refuge in silence; shaking his head, and evidentlytaking me for a madman. 

I tried vainly to find Hannibal's head, and the inscription in honour ofCaesar Claudius, but I found out the remains of the amphitheatre. 

The next day I remarked the mosaic pavement, which had been discoveredtwenty years before. 

I reached Valentia at nine o'clock in the morning, and found that Ishould have to content myself with a bad lodging, as Marescalchi, theopera manager, had taken all the best rooms for the members of hiscompany. Marescalchi was accompanied by his brother, a priest, whom Ifound decidedly learned for his age. We took a walk together, and helaughed when I proposed going into a cafe, for there was not such a thingin the town. There were only taverns of the lowest class where the wineis not fit to drink. I could scarcely believe it, but Spain is a peculiarcountry. When I was at Valentia, a good bottle of wine was scarcelyobtainable, though Malaga and Alicante were both close at hand. 

In the first three days of my stay at Valentia (the birthplace ofAlexander VI. ), I saw all the objects of interest in the town, and wasconfirmed in my idea that what seems so admirable in the descriptions ofwriters and the pictures of artists loses much of its charm on actualinspection. 

Though Valentia is blessed with an excellent climate, though it is wellwatered, situated in the midst of a beautiful country, fertile in all thechoicest products of nature, though it is the residence of many of themost distinguished of the Spanish nobility, though its women are the mosthandsome in Spain, though it has the advantage of being the seat of anarchbishop; in spite of all these commodities, it is a most disagreeabletown to live in. One is ill lodged and ill fed, there is no good wine andno good company, there is not even any intellectual provision, for thoughthere is a university, lettered men are absolutely unknown. 

As for the bridges, churches, the arsenal, the exchange, the town hall, the twelve town gates, and the rest, I could not take pleasure in a townwhere the streets are not paved, and where a public promenade isconspicuous by its absence. Outside the town the country is delightful, especially on the side towards the sea; but the outside is not theinside. 

The feature which pleased me most was the number of small one-horsevehicles which transport the traveller rapidly from one point to another, at a very slight expense, and will even undertake a two or three days'journey. 

If my frame of mind had been a more pleasant one, I should have travelledthrough the kingdoms of Murcia and Grenada, which surpass Italy in beautyand fertility. 

Poor Spaniards! This beauty and fertility of your land are the cause ofyour ignorance, as the mines of Peru and Potosi have brought about thatfoolish pride and all the prejudices which degrade you. 

Spaniards, when will the impulse come? when will you shake off that fatallethargy? Now you are truly useless to yourselves, and the rest of theworld; what is it you need?

A furious revolution, a terrible shock, a conquest of regeneration; yourcase is past gentle methods, it needs the cautery and the fire. 

The first call I paid was on Donna Pelliccia. The first performance wasto be given in two days. This was not a matter of any difficulty, as thesame operas were to be presented as had been already played at Aranjuez, the Escurial, and the Granja, for the Count of Aranda would never havedared to sanction the performance of an Italian comic opera at Madrid. The novelty would have been too great, and the Inquisition would haveinterfered. 

The balls were a considerable shock, and two years after they weresuppressed. Spain will never make any real advance, until the Inquisitionis suppressed also. 

As soon as Donna Pelliccia arrived, she sent in the letter ofintroduction she had received from the Duke of Arcos, three monthsbefore. She had not seen the duke since their meeting at Aranjuez. 

"Madam, " said Don Diego, the person to whom she was commended, "I havecome to offer you my services, and to tell you of the orders his gracehas laid on me, of which you may possibly be ignorant. "

"I hope, sir, " she replied, "that I am not putting you to anyinconvenience, but I am extremely grateful to the duke and to yourself;and I shall have the honour of calling on you to give you my thanks. "

"Not at all; I have only to say that I have orders to furnish you withany sums you may require, to the amount of twenty-five thousanddoubloons. "

"Twenty-five thousand doubloons?"

"Exactly, madam, two hundred and fifty thousand francs in French money, and no more. Kindly read his grace's letter; you do not seem to be awareof its contents. "

The letter was a brief one:

"Don Diego, --You will furnish Donna Pelliccia with whatever sums she mayrequire, not exceeding twenty-five thousand doubloons, at my account. "THE DUKE DOS ARCOS"

We remained in a state of perfect stupefaction. Donna Pelliccia returnedthe epistle to the banker, who bowed and took his leave. 

This sounds almost incredible generosity, but in Spain such things arenot uncommon. I have already mentioned the munificent gift of Medina-Celito Madame Pichona. 

Those who are unacquainted with the peculiar Spanish character and thevast riches of some of the nobility, may pronounce such acts ofgenerosity to be ridiculous and positively injurious, but they make amistake. The spendthrift gives and squanders by a kind of instinct, andso he will continue to do as long as his means remain. But these splendidgifts I have described do not come under the category of senselessprodigality. The Spaniard is chiefly ambitious of praise, for praise hewill do anything; but this very desire for admiration serves to restrainhim from actions by which he would incur blame. He wants to be thoughtsuperior to his fellows, as the Spanish nation is superior to all othernations; he wants to be thought worthy of a throne, and to be consideredas the possessor of all the virtues. 

I may also note that while some of the Spanish nobility are as rich asthe English lords, the former have not so many ways of spending theirmoney as the latter, and thus are enabled to be heroically generous onoccasion. 

As soon as Don Diego had gone, we began to discuss the duke's noblebehaviour. 

Donna Pelliccia maintained that the duke had wished to shew hisconfidence in her by doing her the honour of supposing her incapable ofabusing his generosity; "at all events, " she concluded, "I would ratherdie of hunger than take a single doubloon of Don Diego. "

"The duke would be offended, " said a violinist; "I think you ought totake something. "

"You must take it all, " said the husband. 

I was of the lady's opinion, and told her that I was sure the duke wouldreward her delicacy by making her fortune. 

She followed my advice and her own impulse, though the bankerremonstrated with her. 

Such is the perversity of the human mind that no one believed in DonnaPelliccia's delicacy. When the king heard what had happened he orderedthe worthy actress to leave Madrid, to prevent the duke ruining himself. 

Such is often the reward of virtue here below, but the malicious personswho had tried to injure Donna Pelliccia by calumniating her to the kingwere the means of making her fortune. 

The duke who had only spoken once or twice to the actress in public, andhad never spent a penny on her, took the king's command as an insult, andone not to be borne. He was too proud to solicit the king to revoke theorder he had given, and in the end behaved in a way befitting sonoble-minded a man. For the first time he visited Donna Pelliccia at herown house, and begging her to forgive him for having been the innocentcause of her disgrace, asked her to accept a rouleau and a letter whichhe laid on the table. 

The rouleau contained a hundred gold ounces with the words "fortravelling expenses, " and the letter was addressed to a Roman bank, andproved to be an order for twenty-four thousand Roman crowns. 

For twenty-nine years this worthy woman kept an establishment at Rome, and did so in a manner which proved her worthy of her good fortune. 

The day after Donna Pelliccia's departure the king saw the Duke of Arcos, and told him not to be sad, but to forget the woman, who had been sentaway for his own good. 

"By sending her away, your majesty obliged me to turn fiction into fact, for I only knew her by speaking to her in various public places, and Ihad never made her the smallest present. "

"Then you never gave her twenty-five thousand doubloons?"

"Sire, I gave her double that sum, but only on the day before yesterday. Your majesty has absolute power, but if she had not received herdismissal I should never have gone to her house, nor should I have givenher the smallest present. "

The king was stupefied and silent; he was probably meditating on theamount of credit a monarch should give to the gossip that his courtiersbring him. 

I heard about this from M. Monnino, who was afterwards known under thetitle of Castille de Florida Blanca, and is now living in exile inMurcia, his native country. 

After Marescalchi had gone, and I was making my preparations for myjourney to Barcelona, I saw one day, at the bull fight, a woman whoseappearance had a strange kind of fascination about it. 

There was a knight of Alcantara at my side, and I asked him who the ladywas. 

"She is the famous Nina. "

"How famous?"

"If you do not know her story, it is too long to be told here. "

I could not help gazing at her, and two minutes later an ill-lookingfellow beside her came up to my companion and whispered something in hisear. 

The knight turned towards me and informed me in the most polite mannerthat the lady whose name I had asked desired to know mine. 

I was silly enough to be flattered by her curiosity, and told themessenger that if the lady would allow me I would come to her box andtell her my name in person after the performance. 

"From your accent I should suppose you were an Italian. "

"I am a Venetian. "

"So is she. "

When he had gone away my neighbour seemed inclined to be morecommunicative, and informed me that Nina was a dancer whom the Count deRicla, the Viceroy of Barcelona, was keeping for some weeks at Valentia, till he could get her back to Barcelona, whence the bishop of the diocesehad expelled her on account of the scandals to which she gave rise. "Thecount, " he added, "is madly in love with her, and allows her fiftydoubloons a day. "

"I should hope she does not spend them. "

"She can't do that, but she does not let a day pass without committingsome expensive act of folly. "

I felt curious to know a woman of such a peculiar character, and longedfor the end of the bull fight, little thinking in what trouble this newacquaintance would involve me. 

She received me with great politeness, and as she got into her carriagedrawn by six mules, she said she would be delighted if I would breakfastwith her at nine o'clock on the following day. 

I promised to come, and I kept my word. 

Her house was just outside the town walls, and was a very large building. It was richly and tastefully furnished, and was surrounded by an enormousgarden. 

The first thing that struck me was the number of the lackeys and therichness of their liveries, and the maids in elegant attire, who seemedto be going and coming in all directions. 

As I advanced I heard an imperious voice scolding some one. 

The scold was Nina, who was abusing an astonished-looking man, who wasstanding by a large table covered with stuffs and laces. 

"Excuse me, " said she, "but this fool of a Spaniard wants to persuade methat this lace is really handsome. "

She asked me what I thought of the lace, and though I privately thoughtit lace of the finest quality, I did not care to contradict her, and soreplied that I was no judge. 

"Madam, " said the tradesman, "if you do not like the lace, leave it; willyou keep the stuffs?"

"Yes, " she replied; "and as for the lace, I will shew you that it is notthe money that deters me. "

So saying the mad girl took up a pair of scissors and cut the lace intofragments. 

"What a pity!" said the man who had spoken to me at the bull fight. "People will say that you have gone off your head. "

"Be silent, you pimping rogue!" said she, enforcing her words with asturdy box on the ear. 

The fellow went off, calling her strumpet, which only made her screamwith laughter; then, turning to the Spaniard, she told him to make outhis account directly. 

The man did not want telling twice, and avenged himself for the abuse hehad received by the inordinate length of his bill. 

She took up the account and placed her initials at the bottom withoutdeigning to look at the items, and said, --

"Go to Don Diego Valencia; he will pay you immediately. "

As soon as we were alone the chocolate was served, and she sent a messageto the fellow whose ears she had boxed to come to breakfast directly. 

"You needn't be surprised at my way of treating him, " she said. "He's arascal whom Ricla has placed in my house to spy out my actions, and Itreat him as you have seen, so that he may have plenty of news to writeto his master. "

I thought I must be dreaming; such a woman seemed to me beyond the limitsof the possible. 

The poor wretch, who came from Bologna and was a musician by profession, came and sat down with us without a word. His name was Molinari. 

As soon as he had finished his breakfast he left the room, and Nina spentan hour with me talking about Spain, Italy, and Portugal, where she hadmarried a dancer named Bergonzi. 

"My father, " she said, "was the famous charlatan Pelandi; you may haveknown him at Venice. "

After this piece of confidence (and she did not seem at all ashamed ofher parentage) she asked me to sup with her, supper being her favouritemeal. I promised to come, and I left her to reflect on the extraordinarycharacter of the woman, and on the good fortune which she so abused. 

Nina was wonderfully beautiful; but as it has always been my opinion thatmere beauty does not go for much, I could not understand how a viceroycould have fallen in love with her to such an extent. As for Molinari, after which I had seen, I could only set him down as an infamous wretch. 

I went to supper with her for amusement's sake, for, with all her beauty, she had not touched my heart in the slightest degree. It was at thebeginning of October, but at Valentia the thermometer marked twentydegrees Reaumur in the shade. 

Nina was walking in the garden with her companion, both of them beingvery lightly clad; indeed, Nina had only her chemise and a lightpetticoat. 

As soon as she saw me she came up and begged me to follow their examplein the way of attire, but I begged to be excused. The presence of thathateful fellow revolted me in the highest degree. 

In the interval before supper Nina entertained me with a number oflascivious anecdotes of her experiences from the time she began herpresent mode of living up to the age of twenty-two, which was her agethen. 

If it had not been for the presence of the disgusting Argus, no doubt allthese stories would have produced their natural effect on me; but as itwas they had none whatever. 

We had a delicate supper and ate with appetite, and after it was over Iwould have gladly left them; but Nina would not let me go. The wine hadtaken effect, and she wished to have a little amusement. 

After all the servants had been dismissed, this Messalina orderedMolinari to strip naked, and she then began to treat him in a mannerwhich I cannot describe without disgust. 

The rascal was young and strong, and, though he was drunk, Nina'streatment soon placed him in a hearty condition. I could see that shewished me to play my part in the revels, but my disgust had utterlydeprived me of all my amorous faculties. 

Nina, too, had undressed, and seeing that I viewed the orgy coldly sheproceeded to satiate her desires by means of Molinari. 

I had to bear with the sight of this beautiful woman coupling herselfwith an animal, whose only merit lay in his virile monstrosity, which sheno doubt regarded as a beauty. 

When she had exhausted her amorous fury she threw herself into a bath, then came back, drank a bottle of Malmsey Madeira, and finally made herbrutal lover drink till he fell on to the floor. 

I fled into the next room, not being able to bear it any longer, but shefollowed me. She was still naked, and seating herself beside me on anottoman she asked me how I had enjoyed the spectacle. 

I told her boldy that the disgust with which her wretched companion hadinspired me was so great that it had utterly annulled the effect of hercharms. 

"That may be so, but now he is not here, and yet you do nothing. Onewould not think it, to look at you. "

"You are right, for I have my feelings like any other man, but he hasdisgusted me too much. Wait till tomorrow, and let me not see thatmonster so unworthy of enjoying you. "

"He does not enjoy me. If I thought he did I would rather die than lethim have to do with me, for I detest him. "

"What! you do not love him, and yet you make use of him in the way youdo?"

"Yes, just as I might use a mechanical instrument. "

In this woman I saw an instance of the depths of degradation to whichhuman nature may be brought. 

She asked me to sup with her on the following day, telling me that wewould be alone, as Molinari would be ill. 

"He will have got over the effects of the wine. "

"I tell you he will be ill. Come to-morrow, and come every evening. "

"I am going the day after to-morrow. "

"You will not go for a week, and then we will go together. "

"That's impossible. "

"If you go you will insult me beyond bearing. "

I went home with my mind made up to depart without having anything moreto do with her; and though I was far from inexperienced in wickedness ofall kinds, I could not help feeling astonished at the unblushingfrankness of this Megaera, who had told me what I already knew, but inwords that I had never heard a woman use before. 

"I only use him to satisfy my desires, and because I am certain that hedoes not love me; if I thought he did I would rather die than allow himto do anything with me, for I detest him. "

The next day I went to her at seven o'clock in the evening. She receivedme with an air of feigned melancholy, saying, --

"Alas! we shall have to sup alone; Molinari has got the colic. "

"You said he would be ill; have you poisoned him?"

"I am quite capable of doing so, but I hope I never shall. "

"But you have given him something?"

"Only what he likes himself; but we will talk of that again. Let us supand play till to-morrow, and tomorrow evening we will begin again. "

"I am going away at seven o'clock to-morrow. "

"No, no, you are not; and your coachman will have no cause for complaint, for he has been paid; here is the receipt. "

These remarks, delivered with an air of amorous despotism, flattered myvanity. I made up my mind to submit gaily, called her wanton, and said Iwas not worth the pains she was taking over me. 

"What astonishes me, " said I, "is that with this fine house you do notcare to entertain company. "

"Everybody is afraid to come; they fear Ricla's jealousy, for it is wellknown that that animal who is now suffering from the colic tells himeverything I do. He swears that it is not so, but I know him to be aliar. Indeed, I am very glad he does write to Ricla, and only wish he hadsomething of real importance to write about. "

"He will tell him that I have supped alone with you. "

"All the better; are you afraid?"

"No; but I think you ought to tell me if I have anything really to fear. "

"Nothing at all; it will fall on me. "

"But I should not like to involve you in a dispute which might beprejudicial to your interests. "

"Not at all; the more I provoke him, the better he loves me, and I willmake him pay dearly when he asks me to make it up. "

"Then you don't love him?"

"Yes, to ruin him; but he is so rich that there doesn't seem much hope ofmy ever doing that. "

Before me I saw a woman as beautiful as Venus and as degraded as Lucifer;a woman most surely born to be the ruin of anyone who had the misfortuneto fall in love with her. I had known women of similar character, butnever one so dangerous as she. 

I determined to make some money out of her if I could. 

She called for cards, and asked me to play with her at a game calledprimiera. It is a game of chance, but of so complicated a nature that thebest player always wins. In a quarter of an hour I found that I was thebetter player, but she had such luck that at the end of the game I hadlost twenty pistoles, which I paid on the spot. She took the money, promising to give me my revenge. 

We had supper, and then we committed all the wantonness she wished and Iwas capable of performing, for with me the age of miracles was past. 

The next day I called to see her earlier in the evening. We played again;and she lost, and went on losing evening after evening, till I had won amatter of two or three hundred doubloons, no unwelcome addition to mysomewhat depleted purse. 

The spy recovered from his colic and supped with us every evening, buthis presence no longer interfered with my pleasure since Nina had ceasedto prostitute herself to him in my presence. She did the opposite; givingherself to me, and telling him to write to the Comte de Ricla whatever heliked. 

The count wrote her a letter which she gave me to read. The poorlove-sick viceroy informed her that she might safely return to Barcelona, as the bishop had received an order from the Court to regard her asmerely au actress, whose stay in his diocese would only be temporary; shewould thus be allowed to live there in peace so long as she abstainedfrom giving cause for scandal. She told me that whilst she was atBarcelona I could only see her after ten o'clock at night, when the countalways left her. She assured me that I should run no risk whatever. 

Possibly I should not have stayed at Barcelona at all if Nina had nottold me that she would always be ready to lend me as much money as Iwanted. 

She asked me to leave Valentia a day before her, and to await her atTarragona. I did so, and spent a very pleasant day in that town, whichabounds in remains of antiquity. 

I ordered a choice supper according to her instructions, and took carethat she should have a separate bedroom so as to avoid any scandal. 

She started in the morning begging me to wait till the evening, and totravel by night so as to reach Barcelona by day-time. She told me to putup at the "Santa Maria, " and not to call till I had heard from her. 

I followed all the directions given me by this curious woman, and foundmyself comfortably lodged at Barcelona. My landlord was a Swiss who toldme in confidence that he had received instructions to treat me well, andthat I had only to ask for what I wanted. 

We shall see soon what was the result of all this. 

CHAPTER VIII

My Imprudence--Passano--I Am Imprisoned--My Departure fromBarcelona--Madame Castelbajac at Montpellier--Nimes--I Arrive at Aix

Although my Swiss landlord seemed an honest and trustworthy kind of man, I could not help thinking that Nina had acted very imprudently incommending me to him. She was the viceroy's mistress; and though theviceroy might be a very agreeable man, he was a Spaniard, and not likelyto be easy-going in his love affairs. Nina herself had told me that hewas ardent, jealous, and suspicious. But the mischief was done, and therewas no help for it. 

When I got up my landlord brought me a valet de place, for whosecharacter he said he could answer, and he then sent up an excellentdinner. I had slept till three o'clock in the afternoon. 

After dinner I summoned my host, and asked him whether Nina had told himto get me a servant. He answered in the affirmative, and added that acarriage was awaiting my commands at the door; it had been taken by theweek. 

"I am astonished to hear it, for no one but myself can say what I canafford or not. "

"Sir, everything is paid for. "

"Paid for! I will not have it!"

"You can settle that with her, but I shall certainly take no payment. "

I saw dangers ahead, but as I have never cared to cherish forbodings Idismissed the idea. 

I had a letter of introduction from the Marquis de las Moras to DonMiguel de Cevallos, and another from Colonel Royas to Don Diego de laSecada. I took my letters, and the next day Don Diego came to see me, andtook me to the Comte de Peralda. The day after Don Miguel introduced meto the Comte de Ricla, Viceroy of Catalonia, and the lover of Nina. 

The Comte de Peralada was a young man with a pleasant face but with anill-proportioned body. He was a great debauchee and lover of bad company, an enemy of religion, morality, and law. He was directly descended fromthe Comte de Peralada, who served Philip II. So well that this kingdeclared him "count by the grace of God. " The original patent of nobilitywas the first thing I saw in his antechamber, where it was framed andglazed so that all visitors might see it in the quarter of an hour theywere kept waiting. 

The count received me with an easy and cordiale manner, which seemed tosay that he renounced all the dignities of his rank. He thanked Don Diegofor introducing me, and talked a good deal about Colonel Royas. He askedme if I had seen the English girl he was keeping at Saragossa, and on myreplying in the affirmative, he told me in a whisper that he had sleptwith her. 

He took me to his stables, where he had some splendid horses, and thenasked me to dine with him the next day. 

The viceroy received me in a very different manner; he stood up so thathe might not have to offer me a chair, and though I spoke Italian, withwhich language I knew him to be well acquainted, he answered me inSpanish, styling me 'ussia' (a contraction of 'vuestra senoria', yourlordship, and used by everyone in Spain), while I gave him his propertitle of excellence. 

He talked a good deal about Madrid, and complained that M. De Mocenigohad gone to Paris by Bayonne instead of Barcelona, as he had promisedhim. 

I tried to excuse my ambassador by saying that by taking the other routehe had saved fifty leagues of his journey, but the viceroy replied that'tenir la palabra' (keeping to one's words) comes before all else. 

He asked me if I thought of staying long at Barcelona, and seemedsurprised when I told him that, with his leave, I hoped to make a longstay. 

"I hope you will enjoy yourself, " he said, "but I must warn you that ifyou indulge in the pleasures which my nephew Peralada will doubtlessoffer you, you will not enjoy a very good reputation at Barcelona. "

As the Comte de Ricla made this observation in public, I thought myselfjustified in communicating it to Peralada himself. He was delighted, andtold me, with evident vanity, that he had gone to Madrid three times, andhad been ordered to return to Catalonia on each occasion. 

I thought my best plan would be to follow the viceroy's indirect advice, so I refused to join in any of the little parties of pleasure whichPeralada proposed. 

On the fifth day after my arrival, an officer came to ask me to dinner atthe viceroy's. I accepted the invitation with much pleasure, for I hadbeen afraid of the viceroy's having heard of my relations with Nina, andthought it possible that he might have taken a dislike to me. He was verypleasant to me at dinner, often addressing his observations to me, butalways in a tone of great gravity. 

I had been in Barcelona for a week, and was beginning to wonder why I hadnot heard from Nina; but one evening she wrote me a note, begging me tocome on foot and alone to her house at ten o'clock the same night. 

If I had been wise I should not have gone, for I was not in love with thewoman, and should have remembered the respect due to the viceroy; but Iwas devoid of all wisdom and prudence. All the misfortunes I haveexperienced in my long life never taught me those two most necessaryvirtues. 

At the hour she had named I called on her, wearing my great coat, andwith a sword for my only weapon. I found Nina with her sister, a woman ofthirty-six or thereabouts, who was married to an Italian dancer, nicknamed Schizza, because he had a flatter nose than any Tartar. 

Nina had just been supping with her lover, who had left her at teno'clock, according to his invariable custom. 

She said she was delighted to hear I had been to dinner with him, as shehad herself spoken to him in my praise, saying how admirably I had kepther company at Valentia. 

"I am glad to hear it, but I do not think you are wise in inviting me toyour house at such late hours. "

"I only do so to avoid scandal amongst my neighbours. "

"In my opinion my coming so late is only likely to increase theprobability of scandal, and to make your viceroy jealous. "

"He will never hear of your coming. "

"I think you are mistaken. "

I went away at midnight, after a conversation of the most decentcharacter. Her sister did not leave us for a moment, and Nina gave her nocause to suspect the intimacy of our relations. 

I went to see her every evening, without encroaching on the count'spreserves. I thought myself secure, but the following warning should havemade me desist if I had not been carried away by the forces of destinyand obstinacy in combination. 

An officer in the Walloon Guards accosted me one day as I was walking bymyself just outside the town. He begged me in the most polite manner toexcuse him if he spoke on a matter which was indifferent to him but ofgreat consequence to me. 

"Speak, sir, " I replied, "I will take whatever you say in good part. "

"Very good. You are a stranger, sir, and may not be acquainted with ourSpanish manners, consequently you are unaware of the great risk you runin going to see Nina every evening after the count has left her. "

"What risk do I run? I have no doubt that the count knows all about itand does not object. "

"I have no doubt as to his knowing it, and he may possibly pretend toknow nothing before her, as he fears as well as loves her; but if shetells you that he does not object, she either deceives herself or you. Hecannot love her without being jealous, and a jealous Spaniard . . . 

"Follow my advice, sir, and forgive my freedom. "

"I am sincerely obliged to you for your kind interest in me, but I cannotfollow your advice, as by doing so I should be wanting in politeness toNina, who likes to see me and gives me a warm welcome. I shall continueto visit her till she orders me not to do so, or till the count signifiesto me his displeasure at my visits to his mistress. "

"The count will never do such a thing; he is too careful of his dignity. "

The worthy officer then narrated to me all the acts of injustice whichRicla had committed since he had fallen in love with this woman. He haddismissed gentlemen from his service on the mere suspicion that they werein love with her; some had been exiled, and others imprisoned on onefrivolous pretext or another. Before he had known Nina he had been apattern of wisdom, justice, and virtue, and now he had become unjust, cruel, blindly passionate, and in every way a scandal to the highposition he occupied. 

All this should have influenced me, but it had not the slightest effect. I told him for politeness' sake that I would endeavour to part from herby degrees, but I had no intention of doing so. 

When I asked him how he knew that I visited Nina, he laughed and said itwas a common topic of conversation all over the town. 

The same evening I called on her without mentioning my conversation withthe officer. There would have been some excuse for me if I had been inlove with her, but as it was . . . I acted like a madman. 

On the 14th of November I went to see her at the usual time. I found herwith a man who was shewing her miniatures. I looked at him and found thathe was the scoundrel Passano, or Pogomas. 

My blood boiled; I took Nina's hand and led her into a neighbouring room, and told her to dismiss the rogue at once, or I would go to return nomore. 

"He's a painter. "

"I am well acquainted with his history, and will tell you all about itpresently; but send him away, or I shall go. "

She called her sister, and told her to order the Genoese to leave thehouse and never to enter it again. 

The thing was 'done in a moment, but the sister told us that as he wentout he had said, --

"Se ne pentira. " ("He shall be sorry for it. "). 

I occupied an hour in relating some of the injuries I had received fromthis scoundrelly fellow. 

The next day (November 15th), I went to Nina at the usual time, and afterspending two hours in pleasant converse with her and her sister I wentout as the clocks were striking midnight. 

The door of the house was under an arcade, which extended to the end ofthe street. It was a dark night; and I had scarcely gone twenty-fivepaces when two men suddenly rushed at me. 

I stepped back, drawing my sword, and exclaiming, "Assassins!" and thenwith a rapid movement, I thrust my blade into the body of the nearestassailant. I then left the arcade, and began to run down the street. Thesecond assassin fired a pistol at me, but it fortunately missed me. Ifell down and dropped my hat in my rapid flight, and got up and continuedmy course without troubling to pick it up. I did not know whether I waswounded or not, but at last I got to my inn, and laid down the bloodysword on the counter, under the landlord's nose. I was quite out ofbreath. 

I told the landlord what had happened, and on taking off my great coat, Ifound it to be pierced in two places just below the armpit. 

"I am going to bed, " I said to the landlord, "and I leave my great coatand the sword in your charge. Tomorrow morning I shall ask you to comewith me before the magistrate to denounce this act of assassination, forif the man was killed it must be shewn that I only slew him to save myown life. "

"I think your best plan would be to fly Barcelona immediately. "

"Then you think I have not told you the strict truth?"

"I am sure you have; but I know whence the blow comes, and God knows whatwill befall you!"

"Nothing at all; but if I fly I shall be accounted guilty. Take care ofthe sword; they tried to assassinate me, but I think the assassins gotthe worst of it. "

I went to bed somewhat perturbed, but I had the consoling thought that ifI had killed a man I had done so to self-defence; my conscience was quiteclear. 

At seven o'clock the next morning I heard a knocking at my door. I openedit, and saw my landlord, accompanied by an officer, who told me to givehim all my papers, to dress, and to follow him, adding that he should becompelled to use force in case of resistance. 

"I have no intention of resisting, " I replied. "By whose authority do youask me for my papers?"

"By the authority of the governor. They will be returned to you ifnothing suspicious is found amongst them. "

"Where are you going to take me?"

"To the citadel. "

I opened my trunk, took out my linen and my clothes, which I gave to mylandlord, and I saw the officer's astonishment at seeing my trunk halffilled with papers. 

"These are all the papers I have, " I said. I locked the box and gave theofficer the key. 

"I advise you, sir, " he said, "to put all necessary articles into aportmanteau. " He then ordered the landlord to send me a bed, and finallyasked me if I had any papers in my pockets. 

"Only my passports. "

"That's exactly what we want, " he rejoined, with a grim smile. 

"My passports are sacred; I will never give them to anyone but thegovernor-general. Reverence your king; here is his passport, here is thatof the Count of Aranda, and here the passport of the Venetian ambassador. You will have to bind me hand and foot before you get them. "

"Be more moderate, sir. In giving them to me it is just as if you gavethem to the viceroy. If you resist I will not bind you hand and foot, butI shall take you before the viceroy, and then you will be forced to givethem up in public. Give them to me with a good grace, and you shall havean acknowledgement. "

The worthy landlord told me I should be wiser to give in, so I let myselfbe persuaded. The officer gave me a full quittance, which I put in mypocketbook (this he let me keep out of his kindness), and then I followedhim. He had six constables with him, but they kept a good distance away. Comparing this with the circumstances of my arrest at Madrid, I thoughtmyself well treated. 

Before we left the inn the officer told me that I might order what mealsI pleased, and I asked the landlord to let me have my dinner and supperas usual. 

On the way I told him of my adventure of the night before; he listenedattentively but made no comments. 

When we reached the citadel I was delivered to the officer of the guard, who gave me a room on the first floor. It was bare of furniture, but thewindows looked on to a square and had no iron bars. 

I had scarcely been there ten minutes when my carpet bag and an excellentbed were brought in. 

As soon as I was alone I began to think over the situation. I finishedwhere I ought to have begun. 

"What can this imprisonment have to do with my last night's adventure?" Ireflected. 

I could not make out the connection. 

"They are bent on examining my papers; they must think I have beentampering in some political or religious intrigue; but my mind is quiteat ease on that score. I am well lodged at present, and no doubt shall beset free after my papers have been examined; they can find nothingagainst me there. 

"The affair of my attempted assassination will, no doubt, be consideredseparately. 

"Even if the rascal is dead, I do not see what they can do to me. 

"On the other hand, my landlord's advice to fly from Barcelona looksominous; what if the assassins received their orders from some personhigh in authority?

"It is possible that Ricla may have vowed my ruin, but it does not seemprobable to me. 

"Would it have been wise to follow the landlord's advice?

"Possibly, but I do not think so; my honour would have suffered, and Imight have been caught and laid up in some horrid dungeon, whereas for aprison I am comfortable enough here. 

"In three or four days the examination of my papers will have beencompleted, and as there is nothing in them likely to be offensive to thepowers that be, they will be returned to me with my liberty, which willtaste all the sweeter for this short deprivation. 

"As for my passports they all speak in my favour. 

"I cannot think that the all-powerful hand of the viceroy could havedirected the assassin's sword; it would be a dishonour to him, and if itwere so, he would not be treating me so kindly now. If it were his doing, he must have heard directly that the blow had failed, and in that case Ido not think he would have arrested me this morning. 

"Shall I write to Nina? Will writing be allowed here?"

As I was puzzling my brains with these reflections, stretched on my bed(for I had no chair), I heard some disturbance, and on opening my windowI saw, to my great astonishment, Passano being brought into the prison bya corporal and two soldiers. As he was going in, the rascal looked up andsaw me, and began to laugh. 

"Alas!" I said to myself, "here is fresh food for conjecture. The fellowtold Nina's sister that I should be sorry for what I had done. He musthave directed some fearful calumny against me, and they are imprisoninghim so as to be sure of his evidence. "

On reflection, I was well pleased at the turn affairs had taken. 

An excellent dinner was set before me, but I had no chair or table. Thedeficiency was remedied by the soldier who was in charge of me for theconsideration of a duro. 

Prisoners were not allowed to have pen and ink without specialpermission; but paper and pencils were not included under thisregulation, so my guard got them for me, together with candles andcandlesticks, and I proceeded to kill time by making geometricalcalculations. I made the obliging soldier sup with me, and he promised tocommend me to one of his comrades who would serve me well. The guard wasrelieved at eleven. 

On the fourth day the officer of the guard came to me with a distressedlook, and told me that he had the disagreeable duty of giving me somevery bad news. 

"What is that, sir?"

"I have received orders to transfer you to the bottom of the tower. "

"To transfer me?"

"Yes. "

"Then they must have discovered in me a criminal of the deepest dye! Letus go at once. "

I found myself in a kind of round cellar, paved with large flagstones, and lighted by five or six narrow slits in the walls. The officer told meI must order what food required to be brought once a day, as no one wasallowed to come into the 'calabozo', or dungeon, by night. 

"How about lights?"

"You may lave one lamp always burning, and that will be enough, as booksare not allowed. When your dinner is brought, the officer on duty willopen the pies and the poultry to see that they do not contain anydocuments; for here no letters are allowed to come in or go out. "

"Have these orders been given for my especial benefit?"

"No, sir; it is the ordinary rule. You will be able to converse with thesentinel. "

"The door will be open, then?"

"Not at all. "

"How about the cleanliness of my cell?"

"A soldier will accompany the officer in charge of your dinner, and hewill attend to your wants for a trifle. "

"May I amuse myself by making architectural plans with the pencil?"

"As much as you like. "

"Then will you be good enough to order some paper to be bought for me?"

"With pleasure. "

The officer seemed to pity me as he left me, and bolted and barred theheavy door behind which I saw a man standing sentry with his bayonetfixed. The door was fitted with a small iron grating. 

When I got my paper and my dinner at noonday the officer cut open a fowl, and plunged a fork in the other dishes so as to make sure that there wereno papers at the bottom. 

My dinner would have sufficed for six people. I told the officer that Ishould be much honoured by his dining with me, but he replied that it wasstrictly forbidden. He gave me the same answer when I asked if I mighthave the newspapers. 

It was a festival time for the sentinels, as I shared my meals and mygood wine with them; and consequently these poor fellows were firmlyattached to me. 

I was curious to know who was paying for my good cheer, but there was nochance of my finding out, for the waiter from the inn was never allowedto approach my cell. 

In this dungeon, where I was imprisoned for forty-two days, I wrote inpencil and without other reference than my memory, my refutation ofAmelot de la Houssaye's "History of the Venetian Government. "

I was most heartily amused during my imprisonment, and in the followingmanner:

While I was at Warsaw an Italian named Tadini came to Warsaw. He had anintroduction to Tomatis who commended him to me. He called himself anoculist. Tomatis used to give him a dinner now and again, but not beingwell off in those days I could only give him good words and a cup ofcoffee when he chanced to come about my breakfast-time. 

Tadini talked to everybody about the operations he had performed, andcondemned an oculist who had been at Warsaw for twenty years, saying thathe did not understand how to extract a cataract, while the other oculistsaid that Tadini was a charlatan who did not know how the eye was made. 

Tadini begged me to speak in his favour to a lady who had had a cataractremoved by the Warsaw oculist, only to return again a short time afterthe operation. 

The lady was blind of the one eye, but she could see with the other, andI told Tadini that I did not care to meddle with such a delicate matter. 

"I have spoken to the lady, " said Tadini, "and I have mentioned your nameas a person who will answer for me. "

"You have done wrong; in such a matter I would not stand surety for themost learned of men, and I know nothing about your learning. "

"But you know I am an oculist. "

"I know you were introduced to me as such, but that's all. As aprofessional man, you should not need anyone's commendation, you shouldbe able to say, 'Operibus credite'. That should be your motto. "

Tadini was vexed with my incredulity, and shewed me a number oftestimonials, which I might possibly have read, if the first which met myeye had not been from a lady who protested to all and singular that M. Tadini had cured her of amaurosis. At this I laughed in his face and toldhim to leave me alone. 

A few days after I found myself dining with him at the house of the ladywith the cataract. She had almost made up her mind to submit to theoperation, but as the rascal had mentioned my name, she wanted me to bepresent at a dispute between Tadini and the other oculist who came inwith the dessert. 

I disposed myself to listen to the arguments of the two rival professorswith considerable pleasure. The Warsaw oculist was a German, but spokeFrench very well; however, he attacked Tadini in Latin. The Italianchecked him by saying that their discourse must be conducted in alanguage intelligible to the lady, and I agreed with him. It was plainthat Tadini did not know a word of Latin. 

The German oculist began by admitting that after the operation forcataract there was no chance of the disease returning, but that there wasa considerable risk of the crystalline humour evaporating, and thepatient being left in a state of total blindness. 

Tadini, instead of denying this statement (which was inaccurate), had thefolly to take a little box out of his pocket. It contained a number ofminute round crystals. 

"What's that?" said the old professor. 

"A substance which I can place in the cornea to supply the loss of thecrystalline matter. "

The German went off into a roar of laughter so long and loud that thelady could not help laughing. I should have liked to join them, but I wasashamed to be thought the patron of this ignorant fellow, so I preserveda gloomy silence. 

Tadini no doubt interpreted my silence as a mark of disapproval of theGerman's laughter, and thought to better matters by asking me to give myopinion. 

"As you want to hear it, " said I, "here it is. "

"There's a great difference between a tooth and the crystalline humour;and though you may have succeeded in putting an artificial tooth into agum, this treatment will not do with the eye. "

"Sir, I am not a dentist. "

"No, nor an oculist either. "

At this the ignorant rascal got up and left the room, and it wasdecidedly the best thing he could do. 

We laughed over this new treatment, and the lady promised to have nothingmore to do with him. The professor was not content to despise hisopponent in silence. He had him cited before the Faculty of Medicine tobe examined on his knowledge of the eye, and procured the insertion of asatiric article in the news on the new operation for replacing thecrystalline humour, alluding to the wonderful artist then in Warsaw whocould perform this operation as easily as a dentist could put in a falsetooth. 

This made Tadini furious, and he set upon the old professor in the streetand forced him to the refuge in a house. 

After this he no doubt left the town on foot, for he was seen no more. Now the reader is in a position to understand my surprise and amusement, when, one day as I peered through the grating in my dungeon, I saw theoculist Tadini standing over me with gun in hand. But he at all eventsevinced no amusement whatever, while I roared and roared again withlaughter for the two hours his duty lasted. 

I gave him a good meal and a sufficiency of my excellent wine, and at theend a crown, promising that he should have the same treatment every timehe returned to the post. But I only saw him four times, as the guard atmy cell was a position eagerly coveted and intrigued for by the othersoldiers. 

He amused me by the story of his misadventures since he had left Warsaw. He had travelled far and wide without making a fortune, and at lastarrived in Barcelona, where he failed to meet with any courtesy orconsideration. He had no introduction, no diploma; he had refused tosubmit to an examination in the Latin tongue, because (as he said) therewas no connection between the learned languages and the diseases of theeye; and the result was that, instead of the common fate of being orderedto leave the country, he was made into a soldier. He told me inconfidence that he intended to desert, but he said he should take care toavoid the galleys. 

"What have you done with your crystals?"

"I have renounced them since I left Warsaw, though I am sure they wouldsucceed. "

I never heard of him again. 

On December 28th, six weeks after my arrest, the officer of the guardcame to my cell and told me to dress and follow him. 

"Where are we going?"

"I am about to deliver you to an officer of the viceroy, who is waiting. "

I dressed hastily, and after placing all my belongings in a portmanteau Ifollowed him. We went to the guardroom, and there I was placed under thecharge of the officer who had arrested me, who took me to the palace. There a Government official shewed me my trunk, telling me that I shouldfind all my papers intact; and he then returned me my three passports, with the remark that they were genuine documents. 

"I knew that all along. "

"I suppose so, but we had reasons for doubting their authenticity. "

"They must have been strange reasons, for, as you now confess, thesereasons were devoid of reason. "

"You must be aware that I cannot reply to such an objection. "

"I don't ask you to do so. "

"Your character is perfectly clear; all the same I must request you toleave Barcelona in three days, and Catalonia in a week. "

"Of course I will obey; but it strikes me that the Catalonian method ofrepairing injustice is somewhat peculiar. "

"If you think you have ground for complaint you are at liberty to go toMadrid and complain to the Court. "

"I have certainly grounds enough for complaint, sir, but I shall go toFrance, and not to Madrid; I have had enough of Spanish justice. Will youplease give me the order to leave in writing?"

"That's unnecessary; you may take it for granted. My name is EmmanuelBadillo; I am a secretary of state. That gentleman will escort you backto the room where you were arrested. You will find everything just as youhave left it. You are a free man. To-morrow I will send you yourpassport, signed by the viceroy and myself. Good day, sir. "

Accompanied by the officer and a servant bearing my portmanteau, Iproceeded to my old inn. 

On my way I saw a theatrical poster, and decided to go to the opera. Thegood landlord was delighted to see me again, and hastened to light me afire, for a bitterly cold north wind was blowing. He assured me that noone but himself had been in my room, and in the officer's presence hegave me back my sword, my great coat, and, to my astonishment, the hat Ihad dropped in my flight from the assassins. 

The officer asked me if I had any complaints to make, and I replied thatI had none. 

"I should like to hear you say that I had done nothing but my duty, andthat personally I have not done you any injury. "

I shook his hand, and assured him of my esteem. 

"Farewell, sir, " said he, "I hope you will have a pleasant journey. " Itold my landlord that I would dine at noon, and that I trusted to him tocelebrate my liberation in a fitting manner, and then I went to the postoffice to see if there were any letters for me. I found five or sixletters, with the seals intact, much to my astonishment. What is one tomake of a Government which deprives a man of his liberty on some triflingpretext, and, though seizing all his papers, respects the privacy of hisletters? But Spain, as I have remarked, is peculiar in every way. Theseletters were from Paris, Venice, Warsaw, and Madrid, and I have never hadany reason to believe that any other letters had come for me during myimprisonment. 

I went back to my inn, and asked my landlord to bring the bill. 

"You do not owe me anything, sir. Here is your bill for the periodpreceding your imprisonment, and, as you see, it has been settled. I alsoreceived orders from the same source to provide for you during yourimprisonment, and as long as you stayed at Barcelona. "

"Did you know how long I should remain in prison?"

"No, I was paid by the week. "

"Who paid you?"

"You know very well. "

"Have you had any note for me?"

"Nothing at all. "

"What has become of the valet de place?"

"I paid him, and sent him away immediately after your arrest. "

"I should like to have him with me as far as Perpignan. "

"You are right, and I think the best thing you can do is to leave Spainaltogether, for you will find no justice in it. "

"What do they say about my assassination?"

"Why, they say you fired the shot that people heard yourself, and thatyou made your own sword bloody, for no one was found there, either deador wounded. "

"That's an amusing theory. Where did my hat come from?"

"It was brought to me three days after. "

"What a confusion! But was it known that I was imprisoned in the tower?"

"Everybody knew it, and two good reasons were given, the one in public, and the other in private. "

"What are these reasons?"

"The public reason was that you had forged your passports; the privateone, which was only whispered at the ear, was that you spent all yournights with Nina. "

"You might have sworn that I never slept out of your inn. "

"I told everyone as much, but no matter; you did go to her house, and fora certain nobleman that's a crime. I am glad you did not fly as I advisedyou, for as it is your character is cleared before everybody. "

"I should like to go to the opera this evening; take me a box. "

"It shall be done; but do not have anything more to do with Nina, Ientreat you. "

"No, my good friend, I have made up my mind to see her no more. "

Just as I was sitting down to dinner, a banker's clerk brought me aletter which pleased me very much. It contained the bills of exchange Ihad drawn in Genoa, in favour of M. Augustin Grimaldi. He now sent themback, with these words:

"Passano has been vainly endeavouring to persuade me to send these billsto Barcelona, so that they may be protested, and you arrested. I now sendthem to you to convince you that I am not one of those who delight intrampling down the victims of bad fortune. 

"--Genoa, November 30th, 1768. "

For the fourth time a Genoese had behaved most generously to me. I wasalmost persuaded that I ought to forgive the infamous Passano for thesake of his four excellent fellow-countrymen. 

But this virtue was a little beyond me. I concluded that the best thing Icould do would be to rid the Genoese name of the opprobrium which thisrascal was always bringing on it, but I could never find an opportunity. Some years after I heard that the wretch died in miserable poverty inGenoa. 

I was curious at the time to know what had become of him, as it wasimportant for me to be on my guard. I confided my curiosity to mylandlord, and he instructed one of the servants to make enquiries. I onlyheard the following circumstance:

Ascanio Pogomas, or Passano, had been released at the end of November, and had then been embarked on a felucca bound for Toulon. 

The same day I wrote a long and grateful letter to M. Grimaldi. I hadindeed reason to be grateful, for if he had listened to my enemy he mighthave reduced me to a state of dreadful misery. 

My landlord had taken the box at the opera in my name, and two hoursafterwards, to everyone's great astonishment, the posters announcing theplays of the evening were covered by bills informing the public that twoof the performers had been taken ill, that the play would not be given, and the theatre closed till the second day of the new year. 

This order undoubtedly came from the viceroy, and everybody knew thereason. 

I was sorry to have deprived the people of Barcelona of the onlyamusement they had in the evening, and resolved to stay indoors, thinkingthat would be the most dignified course I could adopt. 

Petrarch says, --

'Amor che fa gentile un cor villano'. 

If he had known the lover of Nina he would have changed the line into

'Amor che fa villan un cor gentile'. 

In four months I shall be able to throw some more light on this strangebusiness. 

I should have left Barcelona the same day, but a slight tinge ofsuperstition made me desire to leave on the last day of the unhappy yearI had spent in Spain. I therefore spent my three days of grace in writingletters to all my friends. 

Don Miguel de Cevallos, Don Diego de la Secada, and the Comte de laPeralada came to see me, but separately. Don Diego de la Secada was theuncle of the Countess A---- B---- whom I had met at Milan. These gentlementold me a tale as strange as any of the circumstances which had happenedto me at Barcelona. 

On the 26th of December the Abbe Marquisio, the envoy of the Duke ofModena, asked the viceroy, before a considerable number of people, if hecould pay me a visit, to give me a letter which he could place in nohands but mine. If not he said he should be obliged to take the letter toMadrid, for which town he was obliged to set out the next day. 

The count made no answer, to everyone's astonishment, and the abbe leftfor Madrid the next day, the eve of my being set at liberty. 

I wrote to the abbe, who was unknown to me, but I never succeeded infinding out the truth about this letter. 

There could be no doubt that I had been arrested by the despotic viceroy, who had been persuaded by Nina that I was her favoured lover. Thequestion of my passports must have been a mere pretext, for eight or tendays would have sufficed to send them to Madrid and have them back againif their authenticity had been doubted. Possibly Passano might have toldthe viceroy that any passports of mine were bound to be false, as Ishould have had to obtain the signature of my own ambassador. This, hemight have said, was out of the question as I was in disgrace with theVenetian Government. As a matter of fact, he was mistaken if he reallysaid so, but the mistake would have been an excusable one. 

When I made up my mind at the end of August to leave Madrid, I asked theCount of Aranda for a passport. He replied that I must first obtain onefrom my ambassador, who, he added, could not refuse to do me thisservice. 

Fortified with this opinion I called at the embassy. M. Querini was atSan Ildefonso at the time, and I told the porter that I wanted to speakto the secretary of embassy. 

The servant sent in my name, and the fop gave himself airs, and pretendedthat he could not receive me. In my indignation I wrote to him sayingthat I had not called to pay my court to the secretary, but to demand apassport which was my right. I gave my name and my degree (doctor oflaw), and begged him to leave the passport with the porter, as I shouldcall for it on the following day. 

I presented myself accordingly, and the porter told me that theambassador had left verbal orders that I was not to have a passport. 

I wrote immediately to the Marquis Grimaldi and to the Duke of Lossada, begging them to request the ambassador to send me a passport in the usualform, or else I should publish the shameful reasons for which his uncleMocenigo had disgraced me. 

I do not know whether these gentlemen shewed my letters to Querini, but Ido know that the secretary Oliviera sent me my passport. 

Thereupon the Count Aranda furnished me with a passport signed by theking. 

On the last day of the year I left Barcelona with a servant who satbehind my chaise, and I agreed with my driver to take me to Perpignan byJanuary 3rd, 1769. 

The driver was a Piedmontese and a worthy man: The next day he came intothe room of the wayside inn where I was dining, and in the presence of myman asked me whether I had any suspicion that I was being followed. 

"Well, I may be, " I said, "but what makes you ask that question?"

"As you were leaving Barcelona yesterday, I noticed three ill-lookingfellows watching us, armed to the teeth. Last night they slept in thestable with my mules. They dined here to-day, and they went on threequarters of an hour ago. They don't speak to anyone, and I don't like thelooks of them. "

"What shall we do to avoid assassination, or the dread of it?"

"We must start late, and stop at an inn I know of, a league this side ofthe ordinary stage where they will be awaiting us. If they turn back, andsleep at the same inn as ourselves, we shall be certain. "

I thought the idea a sensible one, and we started, I going on foot nearlythe whole way; and at five o'clock we halted at a wretched inn, but wesaw no signs of the sinister trio. 

At eight o'clock I was at supper, when my man came in and told me thatthe three fellows had come back, and were drinking with our driver in thestable. 

My hair stood on end. There could be no more doubt about the matter. 

At present, it was true, I had nothing to fear; but it would be gettingdark when we arrived at the frontier, and then my peril would come. 

I told my servant to shew no sign, but to ask the driver to come andspeak with me when the assassins were asleep. 

He came at ten o'clock, and told me plainly that we should be allmurdered as we approached the French frontier. 

"Then you have been drinking with them?"

"Yes, and after we had dispatched a bottle at my expense, one of themasked me why I had not gone on to the end of the stage, where you wouldbe better lodged. I replied that it was late, and you were cold. I mighthave asked in my turn, why they had not stayed at the stage themselves, and where they were going, but I took care to do nothing of the kind. AllI asked was whether the road to Perpignan was a good one, and they toldme it was excellent all the way. "

"What are they doing now?"

"They are sleeping by my mules, covered with their cloaks. "

"What shall we do?"

"We will start at day-break after them, of course, and we shall dine atthe usual stage; but after dinner, trust me, we will take a differentroad, and at midnight we shall be in France safe and sound. "

If I could have procured a good armed escort I would not have taken hisadvice, but in the situation I was in I had no choice. 

We found the three scoundrels in the place where the driver had told mewe should see them. I gave them a searching glance, and thought theylooked like true Sicarii, ready to kill anyone for a little money. 

They started in a quarter of an hour, and half an hour later we set out, with a peasant to guide us, and so struck into a cross road. The muleswent at a sharp pace, and in seven hours we had done eleven leagues. Atten o'clock we stopped at an inn in a French village, and we had no moreto fear. I gave our guide a doubloon, with which he was well pleased, andI enjoyed once more a peaceful night in a French bed, for nowhere willyou find such soft beds or such delicious wines as in the good land ofFrance. 

The next day I arrived at the posting-inn at Perpignan in time fordinner. I endeavoured in vain to think who could have paid my assassins, but the reader will see the explanation when we get twenty days farther. 

At Perpignan I dismissed my driver and my servant, rewarding themaccording to my ability. I wrote to my brother at Paris, telling him Ihad had a fortunate escape from the dagger of the assassin. I begged himto direct his answer to Aix, where I intended to spend a fortnight, inthe hope of seeing the Marquis d'Argens. I left Perpignan the day aftermy arrival, and slept at Narbonne, and the day after at Beziers. 

The distance from Narbonne to Beziers is only five leagues, and I had notintended to stop; but the good cheer which the kindest of landladies gaveme at dinner made me stop with her to supper. 

Beziers is a town which looks pleasant even at the worst time of theyear. A philosopher who wished to renounce all the vanities of the world, and an Epicurean who would enjoy good cheer cheaply, could find no betterretreat than Beziers. 

Everybody at Beziers is intelligent, all the women are pretty, and thecooks are all artists; the wines are exquisite--what more could onedesire! May its riches never prove its ruin!

When I reached Montpellier, I got down at the "White Horse, " with theintention of spending a week there. In the evening I supped at the tabled'hote, where I found a numerous company, and I saw to my amusement thatfor every guest there was a separate dish brought to table. 

Nowhere is there better fare than at Montpellier. 'Tis a veritable landof Cocagne!

The next day I breakfasted at the cafe (an institution peculiar toFrance, the only country where the science of living is reallyunderstood), and addressed the first gentleman I met, telling him that Iwas a stranger and that I would like to know some of the professors. Heimmediately offered to take me to one of the professors who enjoyed agreat reputation. 

Herein may be seen another of the good qualities of the French, who rankabove other nations by so many titles. To a Frenchman a foreigner is asacred being; he receives the best of hospitality, not merely in form, but in deed; and his welcome is given with that easy grace which so soonsets a stranger at his ease. 

My new friend introduced me to the professor, who received me with allthe polished courtesy of the French man of letters. He that loves lettersshould love all other lovers of letters, and in France that is the case, even more so than Italy. In Germany the literary man has an air ofmysterious reserve. He thinks he is proclaiming to all the world that heat all events is a man of no pretension, whereas his pride peeps throughevery moment. Naturally the stranger is not encouraged by such a manneras this. 

At the time of my visit there was an excellent company of actors atMontpellier, whom I went to see the same evening. My bosom swelled atfinding myself in the blessed air of France after all the annoyances Ihad gone through in Spain. I seemed to have become young again; but I wasaltered, for several beautiful and clever actresses appeared on the stagewithout arousing any desires within me; and I would have it so. 

I had a lively desire to find Madame Castelbajac, not with any wish torenew my old relations with her. I wished to congratulate her on herimproved position, but I was afraid of compromising her by asking for herin the town. 

I knew that her husband was an apothecary, so I resolved to make theacquaintance of all the apothecaries in the place. I pretended to be inwant of some very rare drugs, and entered into conversation about thedifferences between the trade in France and in foreign countries. If Ispoke to the master I hoped he would talk to his wife about the strangerwho had visited the countries where she had been, and that that wouldmake her curious to know me. If, on the other hand, I spoke to the man, Iknew he would soon tell me all he knew about his master's family. 

On the third day my stratagem succeeded. My old friend wrote me a note, telling me that she had seen me speaking to her husband in his shop. Shebegged me to come again at a certain time, and to tell her husband that Ihad known her under the name of Mdlle. Blasin in England, Spa, Leipzig, and Vienna, as a seller of lace. She ended her note with these words:

"I have no doubt that my husband will finally introduce you to me as hiswife. "

I followed her advice, and the good man asked me if I had ever known ayoung lace seller of the name of Mdlle. Blasin, of Montpellier. 

"Yes, I remember her well enough--a delightful and most respectable youngwoman; but I did not know she came from Montpellier. She was very prettyand very sensible, and I expect she did a good business. I have seen herin several European cities, and the last time at Vienna, where I was ableto be of some slight service to her. Her admirable behaviour won her theesteem of all the ladies with whom she came in contact. In England I mether at the house of a duchess. "

"Do you think you would recognize her if you saw her again?"

"By Jove! I should think so! But is she at Montpellier? If so, tell herthat the Chevalier de Seingalt is here. "

"Sir, you shall speak to her yourself, if you will do me the honour tofollow me. "

My heart leapt, but I restrained myself. The worthy apothecary wentthrough the shop, climbed a stair, and, opening a door on the firstfloor, said to me, --

"There she is. "

"What, mademoiselle! You here? I am delighted to see you. "

"This is not a young lady, sir, 'tis my dear wife; but I hope that willnot hinder you from embracing her. "

"I have never had such an honour; but I will avail myself of yourpermission with pleasure. Then you have got married at Montpellier. Icongratulate both of you, and wish you all health and happiness. Tell me, did you have a pleasant journey from Vienna to Lyons?"

Madame Blasin (for so I must continue to designate her) answered myquestion according to her fancy, and found me as good an actor as she wasan actress. 

We were very glad to see each other again, but the apothecary wasdelighted at the great respect with which I treated his wife. 

For a whole hour we carried on a conversation of a perfectly imaginarycharacter, and with all the simplicity of perfect truth. 

She asked me if I thought of spending the carnival at Montpellier, andseemed quite mortified when I said that I thought of going on the nextday. 

Her husband hastened to say that that was quite out of the question. 

"Oh, I hope you won't go, " she added, "you must do my husband the honourof dining with us. "

After the husband had pressed me for some time I gave in, and acceptedtheir invitation to dinner for the day after next. 

Instead of stopping two days I stopped four. I was much pleased with thehusband's mother, who was advanced in years but extremely intelligent. She had evidently made a point of forgetting everything unpleasant in thepast history of her son's wife. 

Madame Blasin told me in private that she was perfectly happy, and I hadevery reason to believe that she was speaking the truth. She had made arule to be most precise in fulfilling her wifely duties, and rarely wentout unless accompanied by her husband or her mother-in-law. 

I spent these four days in the enjoyment of pure and innocent friendshipwithout there being the slightest desire on either side to renew ourguilty pleasures. 

On the third day after I had dined with her and her husband, she told me, while we were alone for a moment, that if I wanted fifty louis she knewwhere to get them for me. I told her to keep them for another time, if Iwas so happy as to see her again, and so unhappy as to be in want. 

I left Montpellier feeling certain that my visit had increased the esteemin which her husband and her mother-in-law held her, and I congratulatedmyself on my ability to be happy without committing any sins. 

The day after I had bade them farewell, I slept at Nimes, where I spentthree days in the company of a naturalist: M. De Seguier, the friend ofthe Marquis Maffei of Verona. In his cabinet of natural history I saw andadmired the immensity and infinity of the Creator's handiwork. 

Nimes is a town well worthy of the stranger's observation; it providesfood for the mind, and the fair sex, which is really fair there, shouldgive the heart the food it likes best. 

I was asked to a ball, where, as a foreigner, I took first place--aprivilege peculiar to France, for in England, and still more in Spain, aforeigner means an enemy. 

On leaving Nimes I resolved to spend the carnival at Aix, where thenobility is of the most distinguished character. I believe I lodged atthe "Three Dolphins, " where I found a Spanish cardinal on his way to Rometo elect a successor to Pope Rezzonico. 

CHAPTER IX

My Stay at Aix; I Fall Ill--I am Cared for By an Unknown Lady--TheMarquis d'Argens--Cagliostro

My room was only separated from his Castilian eminence's by a lightpartition, and I could hear him quite plainly reprimanding his chiefservant for being too economical. 

"My lord, I do my best, but it is really impossible to spend more, unlessI compel the inn-keepers to take double the amount of their bills; andyour eminence will admit that nothing in the way of rich and expensivedishes has been spared. "

"That may be, but you ought to use your wits a little; you might forexample order meals when we shall not require any. Take care that thereare always three tables--one for us, one for my officers, and the thirdfor the servants. Why I see that you only give the postillions a francover the legal charge, I really blush for you; you must give them a crownextra at least. When they give you change for a louis, leave it on thetable; to put back one's change in one's pocket is an action only worthyof a beggar. They will be saying at Versailles and Madrid, and maybe atRome itself, that the Cardinal de la Cerda is a miser. I am no suchthing, and I do not want to be thought one. You must really cease todishonour me, or leave my service. "

A year before this speech would have astonished me beyond measure, butnow I was not surprised, for I had acquired some knowledge of Spanishmanners. I might admire the Senor de la Cerda's prodigality, but I couldnot help deploring such ostentation on the part of a Prince of the Churchabout to participate in such a solemn function. 

What I had heard him say made me curious to see him, and I kept on thewatch for the moment of his departure. What a man! He was not only illmade, short and sun-burnt; but his face was so ugly and so low that Iconcluded that AEsop himself must have been a little Love beside hiseminence. I understood now why he was so profuse in his generosity anddecorations, for otherwise he might well have been taken for a stableboy. If the conclave took the eccentric whim of making him pope, Christ wouldnever have an uglier vicar. 

I enquired about the Marquis d'Argens soon after the departure of hiseminence, and was told that he was in the country with his brother, theMarquis d'Eguille, President of the Parliament, so I went there. 

This marquis, famous for his friendship for Frederick II. Rather than forhis writings (which are no longer read), was an old man when I saw him. He was a worthy man, fond of pleasure, a thorough-paced Epicurean, andhad married an actress named Cochois, who had proved worthy of the honourhe had laid on her. He was deeply learned and had a thorough knowledge ofLatin, Greek, and Hebrew literature. His memory was prodigious. 

He received me very well, and recalled what his friend the marshal hadwritten about me. He introduced me to his wife and to his brother, adistinguished jurist, a man of letters, and a strictly moral man bytemperament as much as religion. Though a highly intellectual man, he wasdeeply and sincerely religious. 

He was very fond of his brother, and grieved for his irreligion, buthoped that grace would eventually bring him back to the fold of theChurch. His brother encouraged him in his hopes, while laughing at themin private, but as they were both sensible men they never discussedreligion together. 

I was introduced to a numerous company of both sexes, chiefly consistingof relations. All were amiable and highly polished, like all theProvencal nobility. 

Plays were performed on the miniature stage, good cheer prevailed, and atintervals we walked in the garden, in spite of the weather. In Province, however, the winter is only severe when the wind blows from the north, which unfortunately often happens. 

Among the company were a Berlin lady (widow of the marquis's nephew) andher brother. This young gentleman, who was gay and free from care, enjoyed all the pleasures of the house without paying any attention tothe religious services which were held every day. If he thought on thematter at all, he was a heretic; and when the Jesuit chaplain was sayingmass he amused himself by playing on the flute; he laughed at everything. He was unlike his sister, who had not only become a Catholic, but was avery devout one. She was only twenty-two. 

Her brother told me that her husband, who had died of consumption, andwhose mind was perfectly clear to the last, as is usually the case inphthisis, had told her that he could not entertain any hopes of seeingher in the other world unless she became a Catholic. 

These words were engraved on her heart; she had adored her husband, andshe resolved to leave Berlin to live with his relations. No one venturedto oppose this design, her brother accompanying her, and she was welcomedjoyfully by all her husband's kinsfolk. 

This budding saint was decidedly plain. 

Her brother, finding me less strict than the others, soon constitutedhimself my friend. He came over to Aix every day, and took me to thehouses of all the best people. 

We were at least thirty at table every day, the dishes were delicatewithout undue profusion, the conversation gay and animated without anyimproprieties. I noticed that whenever the Marquis d'Argens chanced tolet slip any equivocal expressions, all the ladies made wry faces, andthe chaplain hastened to turn the conversation. This chaplain had nothingjesuitical in his appearance; he dressed in the costume of an ordinarypriest, and I should never had known him if the Marquis d'Argens had notwarned me. However, I did not allow his presence to act as a wet blanket. 

I told, in the most decent manner possible, the story of the picture ofthe Virgin suckling her Divine Child, and how the Spaniards deserted thechapel after a stupid priest had covered the beautiful breast with akerchief. I do not know how it was, but all the ladies began to laugh. The disciple of Loyola was so displeased at their mirth, that he tookupon himself to tell me that it was unbecoming to tell such equivocalstories in public. I thanked him by an inclination of the head, and theMarquis d'Argens, by way of turning the conversation, asked me what wasthe Italian for a splendid dish of stewed veal, which Madame d'Argens washelping. 

"Una crostata, " I replied, "but I really do not know the Italian for the'beatilles' with which it is stuffed. "

These 'beatilles' were balls of rice, veal, champignons, artichoke, foiegras, etc. 

The Jesuit declared that in calling them 'beatilles' I was making a mockof the glories of hereafter. 

I could not help roaring with laughter at this, and the Marquis d'Eguilletook my part, and said that 'beatilles' was the proper French for theseballs. 

After this daring difference of opinion with his director, the worthy manthought it would be best to talk of something else. Unhappily, however, he fell out of the frying-pan into the fire by asking me my opinion as tothe election of the next pope. 

"I believe it will be Ganganelli, " I replied, "as he is the only monk inthe conclave. "

"Why should it be necessary to choose a monk?"

"Because none but a monk would dare to commit the excess which theSpaniards will demand of the new pope. "

"You mean the suppression of the Jesuits. "

"Exactly. "

"They will never obtain such a demand. "

"I hope not, for the Jesuits were my masters, and I love themaccordingly. But all the same Ganganelli will be elected, for an amusingand yet a weighty reason. "

"Tell us the reason. "

"He is the only cardinal who does not wear a wig; and you must considerthat since the foundation of the Holy See the Pope has never beenbewigged. "

This reason created a great deal of amusement; but the conversation wasbrought back to the suppression of the Jesuits, and when I told thecompany that I had heard from the Abbe Pinzi I saw the Jesuit turn pale. 

"The Pope could never suppress the order, " he said. 

"It seems that you have never been at a Jesuit seminary, " I replied, "forthe dogma of the order is that the Pope can do everything, 'et aliquidpluris'. "

This answer made everybody suppose me to be unaware that I was speakingto a Jesuit, and as he gave me no answer the topic was abandoned. 

After dinner I was asked to stay and see 'Polieucte' played; but Iexcused myself, and returned to Aix with the young Berliner, who told methe story of his sister, and made me acquainted with the character of thesociety to which the Marquis d'Eguille was chiefly addicted. I felt thatI could never adapt myself to their prejudices, and if it had not beenfor my young friend, who introduced me to some charming people, I shouldhave gone on to Marseilles. 

What with assemblies, balls, suppers, and the society of the handsomeProvenqal ladies, I managed to spend the whole of the carnival and a partof Lent at Aix. 

I had made a present of a copy of the "Iliad" to the learned Marquisd'Argens; to his daughter, who was also a good scholar, I gave a Latintragedy. 

The "Iliad" had Porphyry's comment; it was a copy of a rare edition, andwas richly bound. 

As the marquis came to Aix to thank me, I had to pay another visit to thecountry house. 

In the evening I drove back in an open carriage. I had no cloak, and acold north wind was blowing; I was perishing with cold, but instead ofgoing to bed at once I accompanied the Berliner to the house of a womanwho had a daughter of the utmost beauty. Though the girl was onlyfourteen, she had all the indications of the marriageable age, and yetnone of the Provencal amateurs had succeeded in making her see daylight. My friend had already made several unsuccessful efforts. I laughed athim, as I knew it was all a cheat, and I followed him to the house withthe idea of making the young imposter dismount from her high horse, as Ihad done in similar cases in England and Metz. 

We set to work; and, far from resisting, the girl said she would be onlytoo glad to get rid of the troublesome burden. 

I saw that the difficulty only proceeded from the way she held herself, and I ought to have whipped her, as I had done in Venice twenty-fiveyears ago, but I was foolish enough to try to take the citadel by storm. But my age of miracles was gone. 

I wearied myself to no purpose for a couple of hours, and then went to myinn, leaving the young Prussian to do his best. 

I went to bed with a pain in my side, and after six hours' sleep awokefeeling thoroughly ill. I had pleurisy. My landlord called in an olddoctor, who refused to let me blood. A severe cough came on, and the nextday I began to spit blood. In six or seven days the malady became soserious that I was confessed and received the last sacraments. 

On the tenth day, the disease having abated for three days, my clever olddoctor answered for my life, but I continued to spit blood till theeighteenth day. 

My convalescence lasted for three weeks, and I found it more trying thanthe actual illness, for a man in pain has no time to grow weary. Throughout the whole case I was tended day and night by a strange woman, of whom I knew nothing. She nursed me with the tenderest care, and Iawaited my recovery to give her my sincere thanks. 

She was not an old woman, neither was she attractive looking. She hadslept in my room all the time. After Eastertide, feeling I was wellenough to venture out, I thanked her to the best of my ability, and askedwho had sent her to me. She told me it was the doctor, and so bade mefarewell. 

A few days later I was thanking my old doctor for having procured me sucha capital nurse, but he stared at me and said he knew nothing about thewoman. 

I was puzzled, and asked my landlord if she could throw any light on thestrange nurse's identity; but she knew nothing, and her ignorance seemeduniversal. I could not discover whence or how she came to attend me. 

After my convalescence I took care to get all the letters which had beenawaiting me, and amongst them was a letter from my brother in Paris, inanswer to the epistle I wrote him from Perpignan. He acknowledged myletter, and told me how delighted he had been to receive it, afterhearing the dreadful news that I had been assassinated on the borders ofCatalonia at the beginning of January. 

"The person who gave me the news, " my brother added, "was one of yourbest friends, Count Manucci, an attache at the Venetian embassy. He saidthere could be no doubt as to the truth of the report. "

This letter was like a flash of lightning to me. This friend of mine hadpushed his vengeance so far as to pay assassins to deprive me of my life. 

Manucci had gone a little too far. 

He must have been pretty well qualified to prophesy, as he was so certainof my death. He might have known that in thus proclaiming in advance themanner of my death, he was also proclaiming himself as my murderer. 

I met him at Rome, two years later, and when I would have made himconfess his guilt, he denied everything, saying he had received the newsfrom Barcelona; however, we will speak of this in its proper place. 

I dined and supped every day at the table d'hote, and one day I heard thecompany talking of a male and female pilgrim who had recently arrived. They were Italians, and were returning from St. James of Compostella. They were said to be high-born folks, as they had distributed large almson their entry into the town. 

It was said that the female pilgrim, who had gone to bed on her arrival, was charming. They were staying at the same inn as I was, and we all gotvery curious about them. 

As an Italian, I put myself at the head of the band who proceeded to callon the pilgrims, who, in my opinion, must either be fanatics or rogues. 

We found the lady sitting in an arm-chair, looking very tired. She wasyoung, beautiful, and melancholy-looking, and in her hands she held abrass crucifix some six inches long. She laid it down when we came in, and got up and received us most graciously. Her companion, who wasarranging cockle-shells on his black mantle, did not stir; he seemed tosay, by glancing at his wife, that we must confine our attentions to her. He seemed a man of twenty-four or twenty-five years of age. He was shortand badly hung, and his face bore all the indications of daring, impudence, sarcasm, and imposture. His wife, on the other hand, was allmeekness and simplicity, and had that modesty which adds so much to thecharm of feminine beauty. They only spoke just enough French to makethemselves understood on their journey, and when they heard me addressingthem in Italian they seemed much relieved. 

The lady told me she was a Roman, but I could have guessed as much fromher accent. I judged the man to be a Neapolitan or Sicilian. Theirpassport, dated Rome, called him Balsamo, while she bore the names ofSerafina Feliciani, which she still retains. Ten years later we shallhear more of this couple under the name of Cagliostro. 

"We are going back to Rome, " said she, "well pleased with our devotionsto St. James of Compostella and to Our Lady del Pilar. We have walked thewhole way on foot, living on alms, so as to more surely win the mercy ofthe God whom I have offended so grievously. We have had silver, and evengold money given us, and in every town we came to we gave what remainedto the poor, so as not to offend God by lack of faith. 

"My husband is strong, and has not suffered much, but I have found somuch walking very fatiguing. We have slept on straw or bad beds, alwayswith our clothes on, to avoid contracting diseases it would be hard torid one's self of. "

It seemed to me that this last circumstance was added to make us wish tofind out whether the rest of her body could compare with her hands andarms in whiteness. 

"Do you think of making any stay?"

"My weariness will oblige us to stay here for three days; then we shallgo to Rome by the way of Turin, where we shall pay our devotion to theHoly Sudary. "

"You know, of course, that there are several of them in Europe. "

"So we have heard, but we are assured that the Sudary of Turin is thetrue one. It is the kerchief with which St. Veronica wiped the face ofOur Lord, who left the imprint of His divine face upon it. "

We left them, well pleased with the appearance and manners of the ladypilgrim, but placing very little trust in her devotion. I was still weakfrom my illness, and she inspired me with no desires, but the rest wouldhave gladly supped with her if they had thought there was anything tofollow. 

Next day her husband asked me if I would come up and breakfast with them, or if they should come down and breakfast with me. It would have beenimpolite to have replied neither, so I said that I should be delighted tosee them in my room. 

At breakfast I asked the pilgrim what he did, and he replied that he wasan artist. 

He could not design a picture, but he could copy it, and he assured methat he could copy an engraving so exactly that none could tell the copyfrom the original. 

"I congratulate you. If you are not a rich man, you are, at least, certain of earning a living with this talent. "

"Everybody says the same, but it is a mistake. I have pursued this craftat Rome and at Naples, and found I had to work all day to make half atester, and that's not enough to live on. "

He then shewed me some fans he had done, and I thought them mostbeautiful. They were done in pen and ink, and the finest copper-platecould not have surpassed them. 

Next he showed me a copy from a Rembrandt, which if anything, was finerthan the original. In spite of all he swore that the work he got barelysupported him, but I did not believe what he said. He was a weak geniuswho preferred a vagabond life to methodical labour. 

I offered a Louis for one of his fans, but he refused to take it, beggingme to accept the fan as a gift, and to make a collection for him at thetable d'hote, as he wanted to start the day after next. 

I accepted the present and promised to do as he desired, and succeeded inmaking up a purse of two hundred francs for them. 

The woman had the most virtuous air. She was asked to write her name on alottery ticket, but refused, saying that no honest girls were taught towrite at Rome. 

Everybody laughed at this excuse except myself, and I pitied her, as Icould see that she was of very low origin. 

Next day she came and asked me to give her a letter of introduction forAvignon. I wrote her out two; one to M. Audifret the banker, and theother to the landlady of the inn. In the evening she returned me theletter to the banker, saying that it was not necessary for theirpurposes. At the same time she asked me to examine the letter closely, tosee if it was really the same document I had given her. I did so, andsaid I was sure it was my letter. 

She laughed, and told me I was mistaken as it was only a copy. 

"Impossible!"

She called her husband, who came with the letter in his hand. 

I could doubt no longer, and said to him, --

"You are a man of talents, for it is much harder to imitate a handwritingthan an engraving. You ought to make this talent serve you in good stead;but be careful, or it may cost you your life. "

The next day the couple left Aix. In ten years I saw them again under thename of Count and Countess Pellegrini. 

At the present period he is in a prison which he will probably neverleave, and his wife is happy, maybe, in a convent. 

CHAPTER X

My Departure--Letter from Henriette--Marsellies--History ofNina--Nice--Turin--Lugano--Madame De****

As soon as I had regained my usual strength, I went to take leave of theMarquis d'Argens and his brother. I dined with them, pretending not toobserve the presence of the Jesuit, and I then spent three delightfulhours in conversation with the learned and amiable Marquis d'Argens. Hetold me a number of interesting anecdotes about the private life ofFrederick II. No doubt the reader would like to have them, but I lack theenergy to set them down. Perhaps some other day when the mists about Duxhave dispersed, and some rays of the sun shine in upon me, I shall commitall these anecdotes to paper, but now I have not the courage to do so. 

Frederick had his good and his bad qualities, like all great men, butwhen every deduction on the score of his failings has been made, he stillremains the noblest figure in the eighteenth century. 

The King of Sweden, who has been assassinated, loved to excite hatredthat he might have the glory of defying it to do its worst. He was adespot at heart, and he came to a despot's end. He might have foreseen aviolent death, for throughout his life he was always provoking men to thepoint of despair. There can be no comparison between him and Frederick. 

The Marquis d'Argens made me a present of all his works, and on my askinghim if I could congratulate myself on possessing the whole number, hesaid yes, with the exception of a fragment of autobiography which he hadwritten in his youth, and which he had afterwards suppressed. 

"Why so?" I asked. 

"Because I was foolish enough to write the truth. Never give way to thistemptation, if it assails you. If you once begin on this plan you are notonly compelled to record all your vices and follies, but to treat them inthe severe tone of a philosophical historian. You must not, of course, omit the good you may have done; and so praise and blame is mingled onevery page. All the evil you say of yourself will be held for gospel, your peccadilloes will be made into crimes, and your good deeds will notonly be received with incredulity, but you will be taxed with pride andvanity for having recorded them. Besides, if you write your memoirs, youmake an enemy in every chapter if you once begin to tell the truth. A manshould neither talk of himself nor write of himself, unless it be torefute some calumny or libel. "

I was convinced, and promised never to be guilty of such a folly, but inspite of that I have been writing memoirs for the last seven years, andthough I repent of having begun, I have sworn to go on to the end. However, I write in the hope that my Memoirs may never see the light ofday; in the first place the censure would not allow them to be printed, and in the second I hope I shall be strong-minded enough, when my lastillness comes, to have all my papers burnt before my eyes. If that be notthe case I count on the indulgence of my readers, who should rememberthat I have only written my story to prevent my going mad in the midst ofall the petty insults and disagreeables which I have to bear day by dayfrom the envious rascals who live with me in this castle of CountWaldstein, or Wallenstein, at Dux. 

I write ten or twelve hours a day, and so keep black melancholy at bay. My readers shall hear more of my sufferings later on, if I do not diebefore I write them down. 

The day after Corpus Christi I left Aix for Marseilles. But here I mustset down a circumstance that I had forgotten; I mean the procession ofCorpus Christi. 

Everyone knows that this festival is celebrated with great ceremony allover Christendom; but at Aix these ceremonies are of such a nature thatevery man of sense must be shocked at my recital. 

It is well known that this procession in honour of the Being of beings, represented under the sacramental forms, is followed by all the religiousconfraternities, and this is duly done at Aix; but the scandalous part ofthe ceremony is the folly and the buffoonery which is allowed in a ritewhich should be designed to stir up the hearts of men to awe andreverence their Creator. 

Instead of that, the devil, death, and the seven deadly sins, areimpersonated in the procession. They are clad in the most absurdcostumes, and make hideous contortions, beating and abusing each other intheir supposed vexation at having to join in the Creator's praises. Thepeople hoot and hiss them, the lower classes sing songs in derision ofthem, and play them all manner of tricks, and the whole scene is one ofincredible noise, uproar, and confusion, more worthy of some paganbacchanalia than a procession of Christian people. All the country-folkfrom five or six leagues around Aix pour into the town on that day to dohonour to God. It is the only occasion of the kind, and the clergy, either knavish or ignorant, encourage all this shameful riot. The lowerorders take it all in good faith, and anyone who raised any objectionwould run some risk, for the bishop goes in front of the saturnalia, andconsequently it is all holy. 

I expressed my disapproval of the whole affair, as likely to bringdiscredit on religion, to a councillor of parliament, M. De St. Marc; buthe told me gravely that it was an excellent thing, as it brought no lessthan a hundred thousand francs into the town on the single day. 

I could find no reply to this very weighty reason. 

Every day I spent at Aix I thought of Henriette. I knew her real name, and remembering the message she had sent me by Marcoline I hoped to meether in some assembly, being ready to adapt my conduct to hers. I hadoften heard her name mentioned, but I never allowed myself to ask anyquestion, not wishing our old friendship to be suspected. Believing herto be at her country house, I had resolved on paying her a visit, and hadonly stayed on at Aix so as to recover my health before seeing her. Indue course I left Aix with a letter in my pocket for her, resolving tosend it in, and to remain in my carriage till she asked me to get down. 

We arrived at her residence at eleven o'clock. A man came to the door, took my letter, and said madam should have it without fail. 

"Then she is not here. "

"No, sir; she is at Aix. "

"Since when?"

"For the last six months. "

"Where does she live?"

"In her town house. She will be coming here in three weeks to spend thesummer as usual. "

"Will you let me write a letter?"

"If you will get down you will find all the necessary materials inmadam's room. "

I went into the house, and to my extreme surprise found myself face toface with my nurse. 

"You live here, then. "

"Yes, sir. "

"Since when?"

"For the last ten years. "

"How did you come to nurse me?"

"If you will step upstairs I will tell you. "

Her story was as follows:

"Madam sent for me in haste, and told me to go and attend to you as if itwere herself. She told me to say that the doctor had sent me if you askedany questions. "

"The doctor said he didn't know you. "

"Perhaps he was speaking the truth, but most likely he had receivedorders from madam. That's all I know, but I wonder you haven't seen herat Aix. "

"She cannot see any company, for I have been everywhere. "

"She does not see any company at her own house, but she goes everywhere. "

"It's very strange. I must have seen her, and yet I do not think I couldhave passed her by unrecognized. You have been with her ten years?"

"Yes, sir, as I had the honour of informing you. "

"Has she changed? Has she had any sickness? Has she aged?"

"Not at all. She has become rather stout, but I assure you you would takeher for a woman of thirty. "

"I must be blind, or I cannot have seen her. I am going to write to hernow. "

The woman went out, leaving me in astonishment, at the extraordinarysituation in which I was placed. 

"Ought I to return to Aix immediately?" I asked myself. She has a townhouse, but does not see company, but she might surely see me: She lovesme still. She cared for me all through my illness, and she would not havedone so if she had become indifferent to me. She will be hurt at my notrecognizing her. She must know that I have left Aix, and will no doubtguess that I am here now. Shall I go to her or shall I write? I resolvedto write, and I told her in my letter that I should await her reply atMarseilles. I gave the letter to my late nurse, with some money to insureits being dispatched at once, and drove on to Marseilles where I alightedat an obscure inn, not wishing to be recognized. I had scarcely got outof my carriage when I saw Madame Schizza, Nina's sister. She had leftBarcelona with her husband. They had been at Marseilles three or fourdays and were going to Leghorn. 

Madame Schizza was alone at the moment, her husband having gone out; andas I was full of curiosity I begged her to come up to my room while mydinner was getting ready. 

"What is your sister doing? Is she still at Barcelona?"

"Yes; but she will not be there long, for the bishop will not have her inthe town or the diocese, and the bishop is stronger than the viceroy. Sheonly returned to Barcelona on the plea that she wished to pass throughCatalonia of her way home, but she does not need to stay there for nineor ten months on that account. She will have to leave in a month forcertain, but she is not much put out, as the viceroy is sure to keep herwherever she goes, and she may eventually succeed in ruining him. In themeanwhile she is revelling in the bad repute she has gained for herlover. "

"I know something of her peculiarities; but she cannot dislike a man whohas made her rich. "

"Rich! She has only got her diamonds. Do you imagine this monster capableof any feelings of gratitude? She is not a human being, and no one knowsher as I do. She has made the count commit a hundred acts of injustice sothat all Spain may talk of her, and know that she has made herselfmistress of his body and soul, and all he has. The worse his actions are, the more certain she feels that people will talk of her, and that is allshe wants. Her obligations to me are beyond counting, for she owes meall, even to her existence, and instead of continuing my husband in herservice she has sent him about his business. "

"Then I wonder how she came to treat me so generously. "

"If you knew all, you would not feel grateful to her. "

"Tell me all, then. "

"She only paid for your keep at the inn and in prison to make peoplebelieve you were her lover, and to shame the count. All Barcelona knowsthat you were assassinated at her door, and that you were fortunateenough to run the fellow through. "

"But she cannot have been the instigator of, or even the accomplice in, the plot for my assassination. That's against nature. "

"I dare say, but everything in Nina is against nature. What I tell you isthe bare truth, for I was a witness of it all. Whenever the viceroyvisited her she wearied him with praise of your gallantry, your wit, yournoble actions, comparing you with the Spaniards, greatly to theirdisadvantage. 

"The count got impatient and told her to talk of something else, but shewould not; and at last he went away, cursing your name. Two days beforeyou came to grief he left her, saying, --

"'Valga me Dios! I will give you a pleasure you do not expect. '

"I assure you that when we heard the pistol-shot after you had gone, sheremarked, without evincing the slightest emotion, that the shot was thepleasure her rascally Spaniard had promised her. 

"I said that you might be killed. 

"'All the worse for the count, ' she replied, 'for his turn will comealso. '

"Then she began laughing like a madcap; she was thinking of theexcitement your death would cause in Barcelona. 

"At eight o'clock the following day, your man came and told her that youhad been taken to the citadel; and I will say it to her credit, sheseemed relieved to hear you were alive. "

"My man--I did not know that he was in correspondence with her. "

"No, I suppose not; but I assure you the worthy man was very muchattached to you. "

"I am sure he was. Go on. "

"Nina then wrote a note to your landlord. She did not shew it me, but itno doubt contained instructions to supply you with everything. 

"The man told us that he had seen your sword all red with blood, and thatyour cloak had a bullet hole through it. She was delighted, but do notthink it was because she loved you; she was glad you had escaped that youmight take your revenge. However, she was troubled by the pretext onwhich the count had had you arrested. 

"Ricla did not come to see her that day, but he came the next day ateight o'clock, and the infamous creature received him with a smilingface. She told him she had heard he had imprisoned you, and that she wasobliged to him, as he had, of course, done so to protect you from anyfresh attempts on your life. 

"He answered, dryly, that your arrest had nothing to do with anythingthat might have happened the night before. He added that you had onlybeen seized pending the examination of your papers, and that if they werefound to be in good form, you would be set at liberty in the course of afew days. 

"Nina asked him who was the man that you had wounded. He replied that thepolice were enquiring into the matter, but that so far they had neitherfound a dead man nor a wounded man, nor any traces of blood. All that hadbeen found was Casanova's hat, and this had been returned to him. 

"I left them alone together till midnight, so I cannot say what furtherconverse they may have had on the subject, but three or four days latereverybody knew that you were imprisoned in the tower. 

"Nina asked the count the reason of this severity in the evening, and hereplied that your passports were thought to be forgeries, because youwere in disgrace with the State Inquisitors, and therefore would not bein a position to get a passport from the Venetian ambassador. On thissupposition he said you had been placed in the tower, and if it proved tobe a true one, you would be still more severely punished. 

"This news disturbed us, and when we heard that Pogomas had been arrestedwe felt certain he had denounced you in revenge for your having procuredhis dismissal from Nina's house. When we heard that he had been let outand sent to Genoa, we expected to hear of your being set at liberty, asthe authorities must have been satisfied of the genuine character of yourpassports; but you were still shut up, and Nina did not know what tothink, and the count would not answer her when she made enquiries aboutyou. She had made up her mind to say no more about it, when at last weheard you had been set free and that your passports had been declaredgenuine. 

"Nina thought to see you in the pit of the opera-house, and madepreparations for a triumph in her box; but she was in despair when sheheard no performance was to be given. In the evening the count told herthat your passports had been returned with the order to leave in threedays. The false creature praised her lover's prudence to his face, butshe cursed him in her heart. 

"She knew you would not dare to see her, and when you left withoutwriting her a note, she said you had received secret orders not to holdany further communications with her. She was furious with the viceroy. 

"'If Casanova had had the courage to ask me to go with him, I would havegone, ' said she. 

"Your man told her of your fortunate escape from three assassins. In theevening she congratulated Ricla on the circumstance, but he swore he knewnothing about it. Nina did not believe him. You may thank God from thebottom of your heart that you ever left Spain alive after knowing Nina. She would have cost you your life at last, and she punishes me for havinggiven her life. "

"What! Are you her mother?"

"Yes; Nina, that horrible woman, is my daughter. "

"Really? Everybody says you are her sister. "

"That is the horrible part of it, everybody is right. "

"Explain yourself!"

"Yes, though it is to my shame. She is my sister and my daughter, for sheis the daughter of my father. "

"What! your father loved you?"

"I do not know whether the scoundrel loved me, but he treated me as hiswife. I was sixteen then. She is the daughter of the crime, and God knowsshe is sufficient punishment for it. My father died to escape hervengeance; may he also escape the vengeance of God. I should havestrangled her in her cradle, but maybe I shall strangle her yet. If I donot, she will kill me. "

I remained dumb at the conclusion of this dreadful story, which bore allthe marks of truth. 

"Does Nina know that you are her mother?"

"Her own father told her the secret when she was twelve, after he hadinitiated her into the life she has been living ever since. He would havemade her a mother in her turn if he had not killed himself the same year, maybe to escape the gallows. "

"How did the Conte de Ricla fall in love with her?"

"It is a short story and a curious one. Two years ago she came toBarcelona from Portugal, and was placed in one of the ballets for thesake of her pretty face, for as to talents she had none, and could onlydo the rebaltade (a sort of skip and pirouette) properly. 

"The first evening she danced she was loudly applauded by the pit, for asshe did the rebaltade she shewed her drawers up to her waist. In Spainany actress who shews her drawers on the stage is liable to a fine of acrown. Nina knew nothing about this, and, hearing the applause, treatedthe audience to another skip of the same kind, but at the end of theballet she was told to pay two crowns for her immodesty. Nina cursed andswore, but she had to give in. What do you think she did to elude thelaw, and at the same time avenge herself?"

"Danced badly, perhaps. "

"She danced without any drawers at all, and did her rebdltade as before, which caused such an effervescence of high spirits in the house as hadnever been known at Barcelona. 

"The Conte de Ricla had seen her from his box, and was divided betweenhorror and admiration, and sent for the inspector to tell him that thisimpudent creature must be punished. 

"'In the mean time, ' said he, 'bring her before me. '

"Presently Nina appeared in the viceroy's box, and asked him, impudently, what he wanted with her. 

"'You are an immodest woman, and have failed in your duty to the public. '

"'What have I done?

"'You performed the same skip as before. '

"'Yes, but I haven't broken your law, for no one can have seen my drawersas I took the precaution not to put any on. What more can I do for yourcursed law, which has cost me two crowns already? Just tell me. '

"The viceroy and the great personages around him had much ado to refrainfrom laughter, for Nina was really in the right, and a serious discussionof the violated law would have been ridiculous. 

"The viceroy felt he was in a false position, and merely said that if sheever danced without drawers again she should have a month's imprisonmenton bread and water. 

"A week after one of my husband's ballets was given. It was so wellreceived that the audience encored it with enthusiasm. Ricla gave ordersthat the public should be satisfied, and all the dancers were told theywould have to reappear. 

"Nina, who was almost undressed, told my husband to do as best he could, as she was not going to dance again. As she had the chief part my husbandcould not do without her, and sent the manager to her dressing-room. Shepushed the poor man out with so much violence that he fell against thewall of the passage, head foremost. 

"The manager told his piteous tale to the viceroy, who ordered twosoldiers to bring her before him. This was his ruin; for Nina is abeautiful woman, and in her then state of undress she would have seducedthe coldest of men. 

"The count reproved her, but his voice and his manner were ill-assured, and growing bolder as she watched his embarrassment, Nina replied that hemight have her torn to pieces if he liked, but she would not danceagainst her will, and nowhere in her agreement was it stipulated that sheshould dance twice in the same evening, whether for his pleasure oranyone else's. She also expressed her anger at making her appear beforehim in a state of semi-nudity, and swore she would never forgive hisbarbarous and despotic conduct. 

"'I will dance no more before you or your people. Let me go away, or killme if you like; do your worst on me, and you shall find that I am aVenetian and a free woman!'

"The viceroy sat astonished, and said she must be mad. He then summonedmy husband and told him she was no longer in his service. Nina was toldshe was free, and could go where she would. 

"She went back to her dressing-room and came to us, where she was living. 

"The ballet went on without her, and the poor viceroy sat in a dream, forthe poison had entered into his veins. 

"Next day a wretched singer named Molinari called on Nina and told herthat the viceroy was anxious to know whether she were really mad or not, and would like to see her in a country house, the name of which hementioned: this was just what the wretched woman wanted. 

"'Tell his highness, ' she said to Molinari, 'that I will come, and thathe will find me as gentle as a lamb and as good as an angel. '

"This is the way in which the connection began, and she fathomed hischaracter so astutely that she maintained her conquest as much withill-treatment and severity as with her favours. "

Such was the tale of the hapless Madame Schizza. It was told with all thepassion of an Italian divided between repentance for the past and thedesire of vengeance. 

The next day, as I had expected, I received a letter from Henriette. Itran as follows:

"My Dear Old Friend, --Nothing could be more romantic than our meeting atmy country house six years ago, and now again, after a parting of so manyyears. Naturally we have both grown older, and though I love you still Iam glad you did not recognize me. Not that I have become ugly, but I amstout, and this gives me another look. I am a widow, and well enough offto tell you that if you lack money you will find some ready for you inHenriette's purse. Do not come back to Aix to see me, as your returnmight give rise to gossip; but if you chance to come here again aftersome time, we may meet, though not as old acquaintances. I am happy tothink that I have perhaps prolonged your days by giving you a nurse forwhose trustworthiness I would answer. If you would like to correspondwith me I should be happy to do my part. I am very curious to know whathappened to you after your flight from The Leads, and after the proofsyou have given me of your discretion I think I shall be able to tell youhow we came to meet at Cesena, and how I returned to my country. Thefirst part is a secret for everyone; only M. D'Antoine is acquainted witha portion of the story. I am grateful for the reticence you haveobserved, though Marcoline must have delivered the message I gave her. Tell me what has become of that beautiful girl. Farewell!"

I replied, accepting her offer to correspond, and I told her the wholestory of my adventures. From her I received forty letters, in which thehistory of her life is given. If she die before me, I shall add theseletters to my Memoirs, but at present she is alive and happy, thoughadvanced in years. 

The day after I went to call on Madame Audibert, and we went together tosee Madame N---- N----, who was already the mother of three children. Herhusband adored her, and she was very happy. I gave her good news ofMarcoline, and told the story of Croce and Charlotte's death, whichaffected her to tears. 

In turn she told me about Rosalie, who was quite a rich woman. I had nohopes of seeing her again, for she lived at Genoa, and I should not havecared to face M. Grimaldi. 

My niece (as I once called her) mortified me unintentionally; she said Iwas ageing. Though a man can easily make a jest of his advancing years, aspeech like this is not pleasant when one has not abandoned the pursuitof pleasure. She gave me a capital dinner, and her husband made me offerswhich I was ashamed to accept. I had fifty Louis, and, intending to go onto Turin, I did not feel uneasy about the future. 

At Marseilles I met the Duc de Vilardi, who was kept alive by the art ofTronchin. This nobleman, who was Governor of Provence, asked me tosupper, and I was surprised to meet at his house the self-styled Marquisd'Aragon; he was engaged in holding the bank. I staked a few coins andlost, and the marquis asked me to dine with him and his wife, an elderlyEnglishwoman, who had brought him a dowry of forty thousand guineasabsolutely, with twenty thousand guineas which would ultimately go to herson in London. I was not ashamed to borrow fifty Louis from this luckyrascal, though I felt almost certain that I should never return themoney. 

I left Marseilles by myself, and after crossing the Alps arrived atTurin. 

There I had a warm welcome from the Chevalier Raiberti and the Comte dela Perouse. Both of them pronounced me to be looking older, but Iconsoled myself with the thought that, after all, I was only forty-four. 

I became an intimate friend of the English ambassador, Sir N----, a rich, accomplished and cultured man, who kept the choicest of tables. Everybodyloved him, and amongst others this feeling was warmly shared by a Parmesegirl, named Campioni, who was wonderfully beautiful. 

As soon as I had told my friends that I intended to go into Switzerlandto print at my own expense a refutation in Italian of the "History of theVenetian Government, " by Amelot de la Houssaye, they all did their bestby subscribing and obtaining subscriptions. The most generous of all wasthe Comte de la Perouse, who gave me two hundred and fifty francs forfifty copies. I left Turin in a week with two thousand lire in my purse. With this I should be able to print the book I had composed in my prison;but I should have to rewrite it 'ab initio', with the volume to my hand, as also the "History of Venice, " by Nani. 

When I had got these works I set out with the intention of having my bookprinted at Lugano, as there was a good press there and no censure. I alsoknew that the head of the press was a well-read man, and that the placeabounded in good cheer and good society. 

Lugano is near Milan, Como, and Lake Maggiore, and I was well pleasedwith the situation. I went to the best inn, which was kept by a man namedTagoretti, who gave me the best room in the house. 

The day after my arrival I called on Dr. Agnelli, who was at onceprinter, priest, theologian, and an honest man. I made a regularagreement with him, he engaging to print at the rate of four sheets aweek, and on my side I promised to pay him every week. He reserved theright of censorship, expressing a hope that our opinions might coincide. 

I gave him the preface and the preliminary matter at once, and chose thepaper and the size, large octavo. 

When I got back to my inn the landlord told me that the bargello, orchief constable, wanted to see me. 

Although Lugano is in Switzerland, its municipal government is modelledafter that of the Italian towns. 

I was curious to hear what this ill-omened personage could have to say tome, so I told him to shew him in. After giving me a profound bow, withhis hat in his hand, Signor Bargello told me that he had come to offer mehis services, and to assure me that I should enjoy complete tranquillityand safety in Lugano, whether from any enemies within the State or fromthe Venetian Government, in case I had any dispute with it. 

"I thank you, signor, " I replied, "and I am sure that you are telling methe truth, as I am in Switzerland. "

"I must take the liberty of telling you, sir, that it is customary forstrangers who take up their residence in Lugano, to pay some triflingsum, either by the week, the month, or the year. "

"And if they refuse to pay?"

"Then their safety is not so sure. "

"Money does everything in Lugano, I suppose. "

"But, sir---- "

"I understand, but let me tell you that I have no fears, and I shallconsequently beg to be excused from paying anything. "

"You will forgive me, but I happen to know that you have some disputeswith the Venetian Government. "

"You are making a mistake, my good fellow. "

"No, I am not. "

"If you are so sure, find someone to bet me two hundred sequins that Ihave reason to fear the Venetian Government; I will take the bet anddeposit the amount. "

The bargello remained silent, and the landlord told him he seemed to havemade some kind of mistake, so he went away, looking very disappointed. 

My landlord was delighted to hear that I thought of making some stay atLugano, and advised me to call on the high bailiff, who governed theplace. 

"He's a very nice Swiss gentleman, " said he, "and his wife a cleverwoman, and as fair as the day. "

"I will go and see him to-morrow. "

I sent in my name to the high bailiff at noon on the day following, andwhat was my surprise to find myself in the presence of M. De R and hischarming wife. Beside her was a pretty boy, five or six years old. 

Our mutual surprise may be imagined!

CHAPTER XI

The Punishment of Marazzani--I Leave Lugano--Turin--M. Dubois atParma--Leghorn--The Duke of Orloff--Pisa--Stratico--Sienna--TheMarchioness Chigi--My Departure from Sienna With an Englishwoman

These unforeseen, haphazard meetings with old friends have always beenthe happiest moments of my life. 

We all remained for some time dumb with delight. M. De R. Was the firstto break the silence by giving me a cordial embrace. We burst out intomutual excuses, he for having imagined that there might be otherCasanovas in Italy, and I for not having ascertained his name. He made metake pot-luck with him the same day, and we seemed as if we had neverparted. The Republic had given him this employ--a very lucrative one--andhe was only sorry that it would expire in two years. He told me he wasdelighted to be able to be of use to me, and begged me to consider he waswholly at my service. He was delighted to hear that I should be engagedin seeing my work through the press for three or four months, and seemedvexed when I told him that I could not accept his hospitality more thanonce a week as my labours would be incessant. 

Madame de R---- could scarcely recover from her surprise. It was nineyears since I had seen her at Soleure, and then I thought her beauty mustbe at its zenith; but I was wrong, she was still more beautiful and Itold her so. She shewed me her only child, who had been born four yearsafter my departure. She cherished the child as the apple of her eye, andseemed likely to spoil it; but I heard, a few years ago, that this childis now an amiable and accomplished man. 

In a quarter of an hour Madame de R---- informed me of all that hadhappened at Soleure since my departure. Lebel had gone to Besancon, wherehe lived happily with his charming wife. 

She happened to observe in a casual way that I no longer looked as youngas I had done at Soleure, and this made me regulate my conduct in amanner I might not otherwise have done. I did not let her beauty carry meaway; I resisted the effect of her charms, and I was content to enjoy herfriendship, and to be worthy of the friendship of her good husband. 

The work on which I was engaged demanded all my care and attention, and alove affair would have wasted most of my time. 

I began work the next morning, and save for an hour's visit from M. DeR---- I wrote on till nightfall. The next day I had the first proof-sheetwith which I was well enough pleased. 

I spent the whole of the next month in my room, working assiduously, andonly going out to mass on feast days, to dine with M. De R----, and towalk with his wife and her child. 

At the end of a month my first volume was printed and stitched, and themanuscript of the second volume was ready for the press. Towards the endof October the printer sent in the entire work in three volumes, and inless than a year the edition was sold out. 

My object was not so much to make money as to appease the wrath of theVenetian Inquisitors; I had gone all over Europe, and experienced aviolent desire to see my native land once more. 

Amelot de la Houssaye had written his book from the point of view of anenemy of Venice. His history was rather a satire, containing learned andslanderous observations mingled together. It had been published forseventy years, but hitherto no one had taken the trouble to refute it. Ifa Venetian had attempted to do so he would not have obtained permissionfrom his Government to print it in the States of Venice, for the Statepolicy is to allow no one to discuss the actions of the authorities, whether in praise or blame; consequently no writer had attempted torefute the French history, as it was well known that the refutation wouldbe visited with punishment and not with reward. 

My position was an exceptional one. I had been persecuted by the VenetianGovernment, so no one could accuse me of being partial; and by myexposing the calumnies of Amelot before all Europe I hoped to gain areward, which after all would only be an act of justice. 

I had been an exile for fourteen years, and I thought the Inquisitorswould be glad to repair their injustice on the pretext of rewarding mypatriotism. 

My readers will see that my hopes were fulfilled, but I had to wait forfive more years instead of receiving permission to return at once. 

M. De Bragadin was dead, and Dandolo and Barbaro were the only friends Ihad left at Venice; and with their aid I contrived to subscribe fiftycopies of my book in my native town. 

Throughout my stay at Lugano I only frequented the house of M. De R----, where I saw the Abbe Riva, a learned and discreet man, to whom I had beencommended by M. Querini, his relation. The abbe enjoyed such a reputationfor wisdom amongst his fellow-countrymen that he was a kind of arbiter inall disputes, and thus the expenses of the law were saved. It was nowonder that the gentlemen of the long robe hated him most cordially. Hisnephew, Jean Baptiste Riva, was a friend of the Muses, of Bacchus, and ofVenus; he was also a friend of mine, though I could not match him withthe bottles. He lent me all the nymphs he had initiated into themysteries, and they liked him all the better, as I made them some smallpresents. With him and his two pretty sisters I went to the BorromeanIsles. I knew that Count Borromeo, who had honoured me with hisfriendship at Turin, was there, and from him I felt certain of a warmwelcome. One of the two sisters had to pass for Riva's wife, and theother for his sister-in-law. 

Although the count was a ruined man he lived in his isles like a prince. 

It would be impossible to describe these Islands of the Blest; they mustbe seen to be imagined. The inhabitants enjoy an everlasting spring;there is neither heat nor cold. 

The count regaled us choicely, and amused the two girls by giving themrods and lines and letting them fish. Although he was ugly, old, andruined, he still possessed the art of pleasing. 

On the way back to Lugano, as I was making place for a carriage in anarrow road, my horse slipped and fell down a slope ten feet high. Myhead went against a large stone, and I thought my last hour was come asthe blood poured out of the wound. However, I was well again in a fewdays. This was my last ride on horseback. 

During my stay at Lugano the inspectors of the Swiss cantons came therein its turn. The people dignified them with the magnificent title ofambassadors, but M. De R---- was content to call them avoyers. 

These gentlemen stayed at my inn, and I had my meals with them throughouttheir stay. 

The avoyer of Berne gave me some news of my poor friend M. F----. Hischarming daughter Sara had become the wife of M, de V----, and was happy. 

A few days after these pleasant and cultured men had left, I was startledone morning by the sudden appearance of the wretched Marazzani in myroom. I seized him by his collar, threw him out, and before he had timeto use his cane or his sword, I had kicked, beaten, and boxed him mostsoundly. He defended himself to the best of his ability, and the landlordand his men ran up at the noise, and had some difficulty in separatingus. 

"Don't let him go!" I cried, "send for the bargello and have him away toprison. "

I dressed myself hastily, and as I was going out to see M. De R----, thebargello met me, and asked me on what charge I gave the man into custody. 

"You will hear that at M. De R----'s, where I shall await you. "

I must now explain my anger. You may remember, reader, that I left thewretched fellow in the prison of Buen Retiro. I heard afterwards that theKing of Spain, Jerusalem, and the Canary Islands, had given him a smallpost in a galley off the coast of Africa. 

He had done me no harm, and I pitied him; but not being his intimatefriend, and having no power to mitigate the hardship of his lot, I hadwell-nigh forgotten him. 

Eight months after, I met at Barcelona Madame Bellucci, a Venetiandancer, with whom I had had a small intrigue. She gave an exclamation ofdelight on seeing me, and said she was glad to see me delivered from thehard fate to which a tyrannous Government had condemned me. 

"What fate is that?" I asked, "I have seen a good deal of misfortunesince I left you. "

"I mean the presidio. "

"But that has never been my lot, thank God! Who told you such a story?"

"A Count Marazzani, who was here three weeks ago, and told me he had beenluckier than you, as he had made his escape. "

"He's a liar and a scoundrel; and if ever I meet him again he shall payme dearly. "

From that moment I never thought of the rascal without feeling a livelydesire to give him a thrashing, but I never thought that chance wouldbring about so early a meeting. 

Under the circumstances I think my behaviour will be thought onlynatural. I had beaten him, but that was not enough for me. I seemed tohave done nothing, and indeed, I had got as good as I gave. 

In the mean time he was in prison, and I went to M. De R---- to see whathe could do for me. 

As soon as M. De R heard my statement he said he could neither keep himin prison nor drive him out of the town unless I laid a plea before him, craving protection against this man, whom I believed to have come toLugano with the purpose of assassinating me. 

"You can make the document more effective, " he added, "by placing youractual grievance in a strong light, and laying stress on his suddenappearance in your room without sending in his name. That's what you hadbetter do, and it remains to be seen how I shall answer your plea. Ishall ask him for his passport and delay the case, and order him to beseverely treated; but in the end I shall only be able to drive him out ofthe town, unless he can find good bail. "

I could ask no more. I sent in my plea, and the next day I had thepleasure of seeing him brought into the court bound hand and foot. 

M. De R began to examine him, and Marazzani swore he had no evilintentions in calling on me. As to the calumny, he protested he had onlyrepeated common rumour, and professed his joy at finding it had beenmistaken. 

This ought to have been enough for me, but I continued obdurate. 

M. De R---- said the fact of my being sent to the galleys having beenrumoured was no justification for his repeating it. 

"And furthermore, " he proceeded, "M. Casanova's suspicion that you weregoing to assassinate him is justified by your giving a false name, forthe plaintiff maintains that you are not Count Marazzani at all. Heoffers to furnish surety on this behalf, and if M. Casanova does youwrong, his bail will escheat to you as damages. In the mean time you willremain in prison till we have further information about your realstatus. "

He was taken back, and as the poor devil had not a penny in his pocket itwould have been superfluous to tell the bargedlo to treat him severely. 

M. De R wrote to the Swiss agent at Parma to obtain the necessaryinformation; but as the rascal knew this would be against him, he wroteme a humble letter, in which he confessed that he was the son of a poorshopkeeper of Bobbio, and although his name was really Marazzani, he hadnothing to do with the Marazzanis of Plaisance. He begged me to set himat liberty. 

I shewed the letter to M. De R----, who let him out of prison with ordersto leave Lugano in twenty-four hours. 

I thought I had been rather too harsh with him, and gave the poor devilsome money to take him to Augsburg, and also a letter for M. DeSellentin, who was recruiting there for the Prussian king. We shall hearof Marazzani again. 

The Chevalier de Breche came to the Lugano Fair to buy some horses, andstopped a fortnight. I often met him at M. De R----'s, for whose wife hehad a great admiration, and I was sorry to see him go. 

I left Lugano myself a few days later, having made up my mind to winterin Turin, where I hoped to see some pleasant society. 

Before I left I received a friendly letter from Prince Lubomirski, with abill for a hundred ducats, in payment of fifty copies of my book. Theprince had become lord high marshal on the death of Count Bilinski. 

When I got to Turin I found a letter from the noble Venetian M. GirolamoZulian, the same that had given me an introduction to Mocenigo. Hisletter contained an enclosure to M. Berlendis, the representative of theRepublic at Turin, who thanked me for having enabled him to receive me. 

The ambassador, a rich man, and a great lover of the fair sex, kept up asplendid establishment, and this was enough for his Government, forintelligence is not considered a necessary qualification for a Venetianambassador. Indeed it is a positive disadvantage, and a witty ambassadorwould no doubt fall into disgrace with the Venetian Senate. However, Berlendis ran no risk whatever on this score; the realm of wit was anunknown land to him. 

I got this ambassador to call the attention of his Government to the workI had recently published, and the answer the State Inquisitors gave mayastonish my readers, but it did not astonish me. The secretary of thefamous and accursed Tribunal wrote to say that he had done well to callthe attention of the Inquisitors to this work, as the author'spresumption appeared on the title-page. He added that the work would beexamined, and in the mean time the ambassador was instructed to shew meno signal marks of favour lest the Court should suppose he was protectingme as a Venetian. 

Nevertheless, it was the same tribunal that had facilitated my access tothe ambassador to Madrid--Mocenigo. 

I told Berlendis that my visits should be limited in number, and freefrom all ostentation. 

I was much interested in his son's tutor; he was a priest, a man ofletters, and a poet. His name was Andreis, and he is now resident inEngland, where he enjoys full liberty, the greatest of all blessings. 

I spent my time at Turin very pleasantly, in the midst of a small circleof Epicureans; there were the old Chevalier Raiberti, the Comte de laPerouse, a certain Abbe Roubien, a delightful man, the voluptuous Comtede Riva, and the English ambassador. To the amusements which this societyafforded I added a course of reading, but no love affairs whatever. 

While I was at Turin, a milliner, Perouse's mistress, feeling herself in'articulo mortis', swallowed the portrait of her lover instead of theEucharist. This incident made me compose two sonnets, which pleased me agood deal at the time, and with which I am still satisfied. No doubt somewill say that every poet is pleased with his own handiwork, but as amatter of fact, the severest critic of a sensible author is himself. 

The Russian squadron, under the command of Count Alexis Orloff, was thenat Leghorn; this squadron threatened Constantinople, and would probablyhave taken it if an Englishman had been in command. 

As I had known Count Orloff in Russia, I imagined that I might possiblyrender myself of service to him, and at the same time make my fortune. 

The English ambassador having given me a letter for the English consul, Ileft Turin with very little money in my purse and no letter of credit onany banker. 

An Englishman named Acton commended me to an English banker at Leghorn, but this letter did not empower me to draw any supplies. 

Acton was just then involved in a curious complication. When he was atVenice he had fallen in love with a pretty woman, either a Greek or aNeapolitan. The husband, by birth a native of Turin, and by profession agood-for-nothing, placed no obstacle in Acton's way, as the Englishmanwas generous with his money; but he had a knack of turning up at thosemoments when his absence would have been most desirable. 

The generous but proud and impatient Englishman could not be expected tobear this for long. He consulted with the lady, and determined to shewhis teeth. The husband persisted in his untimely visits, and one dayActon said, dryly, --

"Do you want a thousand guineas? You can have them if you like, on thecondition that your wife travels with me for three years without ourhaving the pleasure of your society. "

The husband thought the bargain a good one, and signed an agreement tothat effect. 

After the three years were over the husband wrote to his wife, who was atVenice, to return to him, and to Acton to put no obstacle in the way. 

The lady replied that she did not want to live with him any more, andActon explained to the husband that he could not be expected to drive hismistress away against her will. He foresaw, however, that the husbandwould complain to the English ambassador, and determined to bebefore-handed with him. 

In due course the husband did apply to the English ambassador, requestinghim to compel Acton to restore to him his lawful wife. He even asked theChevalier Raiberti to write to the Commendatore Camarana, the Sardinianambassador at Venice, to apply pressure on the Venetian Government, andhe would doubtless have succeeded if M. Raiberti had done him thisfavour. However, as it was he did nothing of the sort, and even gaveActon a warm welcome when he came to Turin to look into the matter. Hehad left his mistress at Venice under the protection of the Englishconsul. 

The husband was ashamed to complain publicly, as he would have beenconfronted with the disgraceful agreement he had signed; but Berlendismaintained that he was in the right, and argued the question in the mostamusing manner. On the one hand he urged the sacred and inviolablecharacter of the marriage rite, and on the other he shewed how the wifewas bound to submit to her husband in all things. I argued the matterwith him myself, shewing him his disgraceful position in defending a manwho traded on his wife's charms, and he was obliged to give in when Iassured him that the husband had offered to renew the lease for the sametime and on the same terms as before. 

Two years later I met Acton at Bologna, and admired the beauty whom heconsidered and treated as his wife. She held on her knees a fine littleActon. 

I left Turin for Parma with a Venetian who, like myself, was an exilefrom his country. He had turned actor to gain a livelihood; and was goingto Parma with two actresses, one of whom was interesting. As soon as Ifound out who he was, we became friends, and he would have gladly made mea partner in all his amusements, by the way, if I had been in the humourto join him. 

This journey to Leghorn was undertaken under the influence of chimericalideas. I thought I might be useful to Count Orloff, in the conquest hewas going to make, as it was said, of Constantinople. I fancied that ithad been decreed by fate that without me he could never pass through theDardanelles. In spite of the wild ideas with which my mind was occupied, I conceived a warm friendship for my travelling companion, whose name wasAngelo Bentivoglio. The Government never forgave him a certain crime, which to the philosophic eye appears a mere trifle. In four years later, when I describe my stay at Venice, I shall give some further account ofhim. 

About noon we reached Parma, and I bade adieu to Bentivoglio and hisfriends. The Court was at Colorno, but having nothing to gain from thismockery of a court, and wishing to leave for Bologna the next morning, Iasked Dubois-Chateleraux, Chief of the Mint, and a talented though vainman, to give me some dinner. The reader will remember that I had knownhim twenty two years before, when I was in love with Henriette. He wasdelighted to see me, and seemed to set great store by my politeness ingiving him the benefit of my short stay at Parma. I told him that CountOrloff was waiting for me at Leghorn, and that I was obliged to travelday and night. 

"He will be setting sail before long, " said he; "I have advices fromLeghorn to that effect. "

I said in a mysterious tone of voice that he would not sail without me, and I could see that my host treated me with increased respect afterthis. He wanted to discuss the Russian Expedition, but my air of reservemade him change the conversation. 

At dinner we talked a good deal about Henriette, whom he said he hadsucceeded in finding out; but though he spoke of her with great respect, I took care not to give him any information on the subject. He spent thewhole afternoon in uttering complaints against the sovereigns of Europe, the King of Prussia excepted, as he had made him a baron, though I nevercould make out why. 

He cursed the Duke of Parma who persisted in retaining his services, although there was no mint in existence in the duchy, and his talentswere consequently wasted there. 

I listened to all his complaints, and agreed that Louis XV. Had beenungrateful in not conferring the Order of St. Michael on him; that Venicehad rewarded his services very shabbily; that Spain was stingy, andNaples devoid of honesty, etc. , etc. When he had finished, I asked him ifhe could give me a bill on a banker for fifty sequins. 

He replied in the most friendly manner that he would not give me thetrouble of going to a banker for such a wretched sum as that; he would bedelighted to oblige me himself. 

I took the money promising to repay him at an early date, but I havenever been able to do so. I do not know whether he is alive or dead, butif he were to attain the age of Methuselah I should not entertain anyhopes of paying him; for I get poorer every day, and feel that my end isnot far off. 

The next day I was in Bologna, and the day after in Florence, where I metthe Chevalier Morosini, nephew of the Venetian procurator, a young man ofnineteen, who was travelling with Count Stratico, professor ofmathematics at the University of Padua. He gave me a letter for hisbrother, a Jacobin monk, and professor of literature at Pisa, where Istopped for a couple of hours on purpose to make the celebrated monk'sacquaintance. I found him even greater than his fame, and promised tocome again to Pisa, and make a longer stay for the purpose of enjoyinghis society. 

I stopped an hour at the Wells, where I made the acquaintance of thePretender to the throne of Great Britain, and from there went on toLeghorn, where I found Count Orloff still waiting, but only becausecontrary winds kept him from sailing. 

The English consul, with whom he was staying, introduced me at once tothe Russian admiral, who received me with expressions of delight. He toldme he would be charmed if I would come on board with him. He told me tohave my luggage taken off at once, as he would set sail with the firstfair wind. When he was gone the English consul asked me what would be mystatus with the admiral. 

"That's just what I mean to find out before embarking my effects. "

"You won't be able to speak to him till to-morrow. " Next morning I calledon Count Orloff, and sent him in a short note, asking him to give me ashort interview before I embarked my mails. 

An officer came out to tell me that the admiral was writing in bed, andhoped I would wait. 

"Certainly. "

I had been waiting a few minutes, when Da Loglio, the Polish agent atVenice and an old friend of mine, came in. 

"What are you doing here, my dear Casanova?" said he. 

"I am waiting for an interview with the admiral. "

"He is very busy. "

After this, Da Loglio coolly went into the admiral's room. This wasimpertinent of him; it was as if he said in so many words that theadmiral was too busy to see me, but not too busy to see him. 

A moment after, Marquis Manucci came in with his order of St. Anne andhis formal air. He congratulated me on my visit to Leghorn, and then saidhe had read my work on Venice, and had been surprised to find himself init. 

He had some reason for surprise, for there was no connection between himand the subject-matter; but he should have discovered before that theunexpected often happens. He did not give me time to tell him so, butwent into the admiral's room as Da Loglio had done. 

I was vexed to see how these gentlemen were admitted while I dancedattendance, and the project of sailing with Orloff began to displease me. 

In five hours Orloff came out followed by a numerous train. He told mepleasantly that we could have our talk at table or after dinner. 

"After dinner, if you please, " I said. 

He came in and sat down at two o'clock, and I was among the guests. 

Orloff kept on saying, "Eat away, gentlemen, eat away;" and read hiscorrespondence and gave his secretary letters all the time. 

After dinner he suddenly glanced up at me, and taking me by the hand ledme to the window, and told me to make haste with my luggage, as he shouldsail before the morning if the wind kept up. 

"Quite so; but kindly tell me, count, what is to be my status oremployment an board your ship?"

"At present I have no special employ to give you; that will come in time. Come on board as my friend. "

"The offer is an honourable one so far as you are concerned, but all theother officers might treat me with contempt. I should be regarded as akind of fool, and I should probably kill the first man who dared toinsult me. Give me a distinct office, and let me wear your uniform; Iwill be useful to you. I know the country for which you are bound, I canspeak the language, and I am not wanting in courage. "

"My dear sir, I really have no particular office to give you. "

"Then, count, I wish you a pleasant sail; I am going to Rome. I hope youmay never repent of not taking me, for without me you will never pass theDardanelles. "

"Is that a prophecy?"

"It's an oracle. "

"We will test its veracity, my dear Calchus. "

Such was the short dialogue I had with the worthy count, who, as a matterof fact, did not pass the Dardanelles. Whether he would have succeeded ifI had been on board is more than I can say. 

Next day I delivered my letters to M. Rivarola and the English banker. The squadron had sailed in the early morning. 

The day after I went to Pisa, and spent a pleasant week in the company ofFather Stratico, who was made a bishop two or three years after by meansof a bold stroke that might have ruined him. He delivered a funeraloration over Father Ricci, the last general of the Jesuits. The Pope, Ganganelli, had the choice of punishing the writer and increasing theodium of many of the faithful, or of rewarding him handsomely. Thesovereign pontiff followed the latter course. I saw the bishop some yearslater, and he told me in confidence that he had only written the orationbecause he felt certain, from his knowledge of the human heart, that hispunishment would be a great reward. 

This clever monk initiated me into all the charms of Pisan society. Hehad organized a little choir of ladies of rank, remarkable for theirintelligence and beauty, and had taught them to sing extempore to theguitar. He had had them instructed by the famous Gorilla, who was crownedpoetess-laureate at the capitol by night, six years later. She wascrowned where our great Italian poets were crowned; and though her meritwas no doubt great, it was, nevertheless, more tinsel than gold, and notof that order to place her on a par with Petrarch or Tasso. 

She was satirised most bitterly after she had received the bays; and thesatirists were even more in the wrong than the profaners of the capitol, for all the pamphlets against her laid stress on the circumstance thatchastity, at all events, was not one of her merits. All poetesses, fromthe days of Homer to our own, have sacrificed on the altar of Venus. Noone would have heard of Gorilla if she had not had the sense to chooseher lovers from the ranks of literary men; and she would never have beencrowned at Rome if she had not succeeded in gaining over Prince GonzagaSolferino, who married the pretty Mdlle. Rangoni, daughter of the Romanconsul, whom I knew at Marseilles, and of whom I have already spoken. 

This coronation of Gorilla is a blot on the pontificate of the presentPope, for henceforth no man of genuine merit will accept the honour whichwas once so carefully guarded by the giants of human intellect. 

Two days after the coronation Gorilla and her admirers left Rome, ashamedof what they had done. The Abbe Pizzi, who had been the chief promoter ofher apotheosis, was so inundated with pamphlets and satires that for somemonths he dared not shew his face. 

This is a long digression, and I will now return to Father Stratico, whomade the time pass so pleasantly for me. 

Though he was not a handsome man, he possessed the art of persuasion toperfection; and he succeeded in inducing me to go to Sienna, where hesaid I should enjoy myself. He gave me a letter of introduction for theMarchioness Chigi, and also one for the Abbe Chiaccheri; and as I hadnothing better to do I went to Sienna by the shortest way, not caring tovisit Florence. 

The Abbe Chiaccheri gave me a warm welcome, and promised to do all hecould to amuse me; and he kept his word. He introduced me himself to theMarchioness Chigi, who took me by storm as soon as she had read theletter of the Abbe Stratico, her dear abbe, as she called him, when sheread the superscription in his writing. 

The marchioness was still handsome, though her beauty had begun to wane;but with her the sweetness, the grace, and the ease of manner suppliedthe lack of youth. She knew how to make a compliment of the slightestexpression, and was totally devoid of any affection of superiority. 

"Sit down, " she began. "So you are going to stay a week, I see, from thedear abbe's letter. That's a short time for us, but perhaps it may be toolong for you. I hope the abbe has not painted us in too rosy colours. "

"He only told me that I was to spend a week here, and that I should findwith you all the charms of intellect and sensibility. "

"Stratico should have condemned you to a month without mercy. "

"Why mercy? What hazard do I run?"

"Of being tired to death, or of leaving some small morsel of your heartat Sienna. "

"All that might happen in a week, but I am ready to dare the danger, forStratico has guarded me from the first by counting on you, and from thesecond by counting on myself. You will receive my pure and intelligenthomage. My heart will go forth from Sienna as free as it came, for I haveno hope of victory, and defeat would make me wretched. "

"Is it possible that you are amongst the despairing?"

"Yes, and to that fact I owe my happiness. "

"It would be a pity for you if you found yourself mistaken. "

"Not such a pity as you may think, Madam. 'Carpe diem' is my motto. 'Tislikewise the motto of that finished voluptuary, Horace, but I only takeit because it suits me. The pleasure which follows desires is the best, for it is the most acute. 

"True, but it cannot be calculated on, and defies the philosopher. MayGod preserve you, madam, from finding out this painful truth byexperience! The highest good lies in enjoyment; desire too often remainsunsatisfied. If you have not yet found out the truth of Horace's maxim, Icongratulate you. "

The amiable marchioness smiled pleasantly and gave no positive answer. 

Chiaccheri now opened his mouth for the first time, and said that thegreatest happiness he could wish us was that we should never agree. Themarchioness assented, rewarding Chiaccheri with a smile, but I could notdo so. 

"I had rather contradict you, " I said, "than renounce all hopes ofpleasing you. The abbe has thrown the apple of discord between us, but ifwe continue as we have begun I shall take up my abode at Sienna. "

The marchioness was satisfied with the sample of her wit which she hadgiven me, and began to talk commonplaces, asking me if I should like tosee company and enjoy society of the fair sex. She promised to take meeverywhere. 

"Pray do not take the trouble, " I replied. "I want to leave Sienna withthe feeling that you are the only lady to whom I have done homage, andthat the Abbe Chiaccheri has been my only guide. "

The marchioness was flattered, and asked the abbe and myself to dine withher on the following day in a delightful house she had at a hundred pacesfrom the town. 

The older I grew the more I became attached to the intellectual charms ofwomen. With the sensualist, the contrary takes place; he becomes morematerial in his old age: requires women well taught in Venus's shrines, and flies from all mention of philosophy. 

As I was leaving her I told the abbe that if I stayed at Sienna I wouldsee no other woman but her, come what might, and he agreed that I wasvery right. 

The abbe shewed me all the objects of interest in Sienna, and introducedme to the literati, who in their turn visited me. 

The same day Chiaccheri took me to a house where the learned societyassembled. It was the residence of two sisters--the elder extremely uglyand the younger very pretty, but the elder sister was accounted, and veryrightly, the Corinna of the place. She asked me to give her a specimen ofmy skill, promising to return the compliment. I recited the first thingthat came into my head, and she replied with a few lines of exquisitebeauty. I complimented her, but Chiaccheri (who had been her master)guessed that I did not believe her to be the author, and proposed that weshould try bouts rimes. The pretty sister gave out the rhymes, and we allset to work. The ugly sister finished first, and when the verses came tobe read, hers were pronounced the best. I was amazed, and made animprovisation on her skill, which I gave her in writing. In five minutesshe returned it to me; the rhymes were the same, but the turn of thethought was much more elegant. I was still more surprised, and took theliberty of asking her name, and found her to be the famous "Shepherdess, "Maria Fortuna, of the Academy of Arcadians. 

I had read the beautiful stanzas she had written in praise of Metastasio. I told her so, and she brought me the poet's reply in manuscript. 

Full of admiration, I addressed myself to her alone, and all herplainness vanished. 

I had had an agreeable conversation with the marchioness in the morning, but in the evening I was literally in an ecstacy. 

I kept on talking of Fortuna, and asked the abbe if she could improvisein the manner of Gorilla. He replied that she had wished to do so, butthat he had disallowed it, and he easily convinced me that thisimprovisation would have been the ruin of her fine talent. I also agreedwith him when he said that he had warned her against making impromptustoo frequently, as such hasty verses are apt to sacrifice wit to rhyme. 

The honour in which improvisation was held amongst the Greeks and Romansis due to the fact that Greek and Latin verse is not under the dominionof rhyme. But as it was, the great poets seldom improvised; knowing asthey did that such verses were usually feeble and common-place. 

Horace often passed a whole night searching for a vigorous andelegantly-turned phrase. When he had succeeded, he wrote the words on thewall and went to sleep. The lines which cost him nothing are generallyprosaic; they may easily be picked out in his epistles. 

The amiable and learned Abbe Chiaccheri, confessed to me that he was inlove with his pupil, despite her ugliness. He added that he had neverexpected it when he began to teach her to make verses. 

"I can't understand that, " I said, "sublata lucerna', you know. "

"Not at all, " said he, with a laugh, "I love her for her face, since itis inseparable from my idea of her. "

A Tuscan has certainly more poetic riches at his disposal than any otherItalian, and the Siennese dialect is sweeter and more energetic than thatof Florence, though the latter claims the title of the classic dialect, on account of its purity. This purity, together with its richness andcopiousness of diction it owes to the academy. From the great richness ofItalian we can treat a subject with far greater eloquence than a Frenchwriter; Italian abounds in synonyms, while French is lamentably deficientin this respect. Voltaire used to laugh at those who said that the Frenchtongue could not be charged with poverty, as it had all that wasnecessary. A man may have necessaries, and yet be poor. The obstinacy ofthe French academy in refusing to adopt foreign words skews more pridethan wisdom. This exclusiveness cannot last. 

As for us we take words from all languages and all sources, provided theysuit the genius of our own language. We love to see our riches increase;we even steal from the poor, but to do so is the general characteristicof the rich. 

The amiable marchioness gave us a delicious dinner in a house designed byPalladio. Chiaccheri had warned me to say nothing about the ShepherdessFortuna; but at dinner she told him she was sure he had taken me to herhouse. He had not the face to deny it, and I did not conceal the pleasureI had received. 

"Stratico admires Fortuna, " said the marchioness, "and I confess that herwritings have great merit, but it's a pity one cannot go to the house, except under an incognito. "

"Why not?" I asked, in some astonishment. 

"What!" said she to the abbe, "you did not tell him whose house it is?"

"I did not think it necessary, her father and mother rarely shewthemselves. "

"Well, it's of no consequence. "

"But what is her father?" I asked, "the hangman, perhaps?"

"Worse, he's the 'bargello', and you must see that a stranger cannot bereceived into good society here if he goes to such places as that. "

Chiaccheri looked rather hurt, and I thought it my duty to say that Iwould not go there again till the eve of my departure. 

"I saw her sister once, " said the marchioness; "she is really charminglypretty, and it's a great pity that with her beauty and irreproachablemorality she should be condemned to marry a man of her father's class. "

"I once knew a man named Coltellini, " I replied; "he is the son of thebargello of Florence, and is poet-in-ordinary to the Empress of Russia. Ishall try to make a match between him and Fortuna's sister; he is a youngman of the greatest talents. "

The marchioness thought my idea an excellent one, but soon after I heardthat Coltellini was dead. 

The 'bargello' is a cordially-detested person all over Italy, if youexcept Modena, where the weak nobility make much of the 'bargello', anddo justice to his excellent table. This is a curious fact, for as a rulethese bargellos are spies, liars, traitors, cheats, and misanthropes, fora man despised hates his despisers. 

At Sienna I was shewn a Count Piccolomini, a learned and agreeable man. He had a strange whim, however, of spending six months in the year in thestrictest seclusion in his own house, never going out and never seeingany company; reading and working the whole time. He certainly did hisbest to make up for his hibernation during the other six months in theyear. 

The marchioness promised she would come to Rome in the course of thesummer. She had there an intimate friend in Bianconi who had abandonedthe practice of medicine, and was now the representative of the Court ofSaxony. 

On the eve of my departure, the driver who was to take me to Rome cameand asked me if I would like to take a travelling companion, and savemyself three sequins. 

"I don't want anyone. "

"You are wrong, for she is very beautiful. "

"Is she by herself?"

"No, she is with a gentleman on horseback, who wishes to ride all the wayto Rome. "

"Then how did the girl come here?"

"On horseback, but she is tired out, and cannot bear it any longer. Thegentleman has offered me four sequins to take her to Rome, and as I am apoor man I think you might let me earn the money. "

"I suppose he will follow the carriage?"

"He can go as he likes; that can't make much difference to either of us. "

"You say she is young and pretty. "

"I have been told so, but I haven't seen her myself. "

"What sort of a man is her companion?"

"He's a fine man, but he can speak very little Italian. "

"Has he sold the lady's horse?"

"No, it was hired. He has only one trunk, which will go behind thecarriage. "

"This is all very strange. I shall not give any decision before speakingto this man. "

"I will tell him to wait on you. "

Directly afterwards, a brisk-looking young fellow, carrying himself wellenough, and clad in a fancy uniform, came in. He told me the tale I hadheard from the coachman, and ended by saying that he was sure I would notrefuse to accommodate his wife in my carriage. 

"Your wife, sir?"

I saw he was a Frenchman, and I addressed him in French. 

"God be praised! You can speak my native tongue. Yes, sir, she is anEnglishwoman and my wife. I am sure she will be no trouble to you. "

"Very good. I don't want to start later than I had arranged. Will she beready at five o'clock?"

"Certainly. "

The next morning when I got into my carriage, I found her already there. I paid her some slight compliment, and sat down beside her, and we droveoff. 

CHAPTER XII

Miss Betty--The Comte de L'Etoile--Sir B * * * M * * *--Reassured

This was the fourth adventure I had had of this kind. There is nothingparticularly out of the common in having a fellow-traveller in one'scarriage; this time, however, the affair had something decidedly romanticabout it. 

I was forty-five, and my purse contained two hundred sequins. I stillloved the fair sex, though my ardour had decreased, my experience hadripened, and my caution increased. I was more like a heavy father than ayoung lover, and I limited myself to pretensions of the most modestcharacter. 

The young person beside me was pretty and gentle-looking, she was neatlythough simply dressed in the English fashion, she was fair and small, andher budding breast could be seen outlined beneath the fine muslin of herdress. She had all the appearances of modesty and noble birth, andsomething of virginal innocence, which inspired one with attachment andrespect at the same time. 

"I hope you can speak French madam?" I began. 

"Yes, and a little Italian too. "

"I congratulate myself on having you for my travelling companion. "

"I think you should congratulate me. "

"I heard you came to Sienna on horseback. "

"Yes, but I will never do such a foolish thing again. "

"I think your husband would have been wise to sell his horse and buy acarriage. "

"He hired it; it does not belong to him. From Rome we are going to driveto Naples. "

"You like travelling?"

"Very much, but with greater comfort. "

With these words the English girl, whose white skin did not look as if itcould contain a drop of blood, blushed most violently. 

I guessed something of her secret, and begged pardon; and for more thanan hour I remain silent, pretending to gaze at the scenery, but inreality thinking of her, for she began to inspire me with a livelyinterest. 

Though the position of my young companion was more than equivocal, Idetermined to see my way clearly before I took any decisive step; and Iwaited patiently till we got to Bon Couvent, where we expected to dineand meet the husband. 

We got there at ten o'clock. 

In Italy the carriages never go faster than a walk; a man on foot canoutstrip them, as they rarely exceed three miles an hour. The tedium of ajourney under such circumstances is something dreadful, and in the hotmonths one has to stop five or six hours in the middle of the day toavoid falling ill. 

My coachman said he did not want to go beyond St. Quirico, where therewas an excellent inn, that night, so he proposed waiting at Bon Couventtill four o'clock. We had therefore six hours wherein to rest. 

The English girl was astonished at not finding her husband, and lookedfor him in all directions. I noticed her, and asked the landlord what hadbecome of him. He informed us that he had breakfasted and baited hishorse, and had then gone on, leaving word that he would await us at St. Quirico and order supper there. 

I thought it all very strange, but I said nothing. The poor girl beggedme to excuse her husband's behaviour. 

"He has given me a mark of his confidence, madam, and there is nothing tobe offended at. "

The landlord asked me if the vetturino paid my expenses, and I answeredin the negative; and the girl then told him to ask the vetturino if hewas paying for her. 

The man came in, and to convince the lady that providing her with mealswas not in the contract, he gave her a paper which she handed to me toread. It was signed "Comte de l'Etoile. "

When she was alone with me my young companion begged me only to orderdinner for myself. 

I understood her delicacy, and this made her all the dearer to me. 

"Madame, " said I, "you must please look upon me as an old friend. I guessyou have no money about you, and that you wish to fast from motives ofdelicacy. Your husband shall repay me, if he will have it so. If I toldthe landlord to only prepare dinner for myself I should be dishonouringthe count, yourself possibly, and myself most of all. "

"I feel you are right sir. Let dinner be served for two, then; but Icannot eat, for I feel ill, and I hope you will not mind my lying on thebed for a moment. "

"Pray do not let me disturb you. This is a pleasant room, and they canlay the table in the next. Lie down, and sleep if you can, and I willorder dinner to be ready by two. I hope you will be feeling better bythen. "

I left her without giving her time to answer, and went to order dinner. 

I had ceased to believe the Frenchman to be the beautiful Englishwoman'shusband, and began to think I should have to fight him. 

The case, I felt certain, was one of elopement and seduction; and, superstitious as usual, I was sure that my good genius had sent me in thenick of time to save her and care for her, and in short to snatch herfrom the hands of her infamous deceiver. 

Thus I fondled my growing passion. 

I laughed at the absurd title the rascal had given himself, and when thethought struck me that he had possibly abandoned her to me altogether, Imade up my mind that he deserved hanging. Nevertheless, I resolved neverto leave her. 

I lay down on the bed, and as I built a thousand castles in the air Ifell asleep. 

The landlady awoke me softly, saying that three o'clock had struck. 

"Wait a moment before you bring in the dinner. I will go and see if thelady is awake. "

I opened the door gently, and saw she was still asleep, but as I closedthe door after me the noise awoke her, and she asked if I had dined. 

"I shall not take any dinner, madam, unless you do me the honour to dinewith me. You have had a five hours' rest, and I hope you are better. "

"I will sit down with you to dinner, as you wish it. "

"That makes me happy, and I will order dinner to be served forthwith. "

She ate little, but what little she did eat was taken with a goodappetite. She was agreeably surprised to see the beefsteaks and plumpudding, which I had ordered for her. 

When the landlady came in, she asked her if the cook was an Englishman, and when she heard that I had given directions for the preparation of hernational dishes, she seemed full of gratitude. She cheered up, andcongratulated me on my appetite, while I encouraged her to drink someexcellent Montepulciano and Montefiascone. By dessert she was in goodspirits, while I felt rather excited. She told me, in Italian, that shewas born in London, and I thought I should have died with joy, in replyto my question whether she knew Madame Cornelis, she replied that she hadknown her daughter as they had been at school together. 

"Has Sophie grown tall?"

"No, she is quite small, but she is very pretty, and so clever. "

"She must now be seventeen. "

"Exactly. We are of the same age. "

As she said this she blushed and lowered her eyes. 

"Are you ill?"

"Not at all. I scarcely like to say it, but Sophie is the very image ofyou. "

"Why should you hesitate to say so? It has been remarked to me before. Nodoubt it is a mere coincidence. How long ago is it since you have seenher?"

"Eighteen months; she went back to her mother's, to be married as it wassaid, but I don't know to whom. "

"Your news interests me deeply. "

The landlord brought me the bill, and I saw a note of three pains whichher husband had spent on himself and his horse. 

"He said you would pay, " observed the landlord. 

The Englishwoman blushed. I paid the bill, and we went on. 

I was delighted to see her blushing, it proved she was not a party to herhusband's proceedings. 

I was burning with the desire to know how she had left London and had metthe Frenchman, and why they were going to Rome; but I did not want totrouble her by my questions, and I loved her too well already to give herany pain. 

We had a three hours' drive before us, so I turned the conversation toSophie, with whom she had been at school. 

"Was Miss Nancy Steyne there when you left?" said I. 

The reader may remember how fond I had been of this young lady, who haddined with me, and whom I had covered with kisses, though she was onlytwelve. 

My companion sighed at hearing the name of Nancy, and told me that shehad left. 

"Was she pretty when you knew her?"

"She was a beauty, but her loveliness was a fatal gift to her. Nancy wasa close friend of mine, we loved each other tenderly; and perhaps oursympathy arose from the similarity of the fate in store for us. Nancy, too loving and too simple, is now, perhaps, even more unhappy thanmyself. "

"More unhappy? What do you mean?"

"Alas!"

"Is it possible that fate has treated you harshly? Is it possible thatyou can be unhappy with such a letter of commendation as nature has givenyou?"

"Alas! let us speak of something else. "

Her countenance was suffused with emotion. I pitied her in secret, andled the conversation back to Nancy. 

"Tell me why you think Nancy is unhappy. "

"She ran away with a young man she loved; they despaired of gaining theparents' consent to the match. Since her flight nothing has been heard ofher, and you see I have some reason to fear that she is unhappy. "

"You are right. I would willingly give my life if it could be the savingof her. "

"Where did you know her?"

"In my own house. She and Sophie dined with me, and her father came in atthe end of the meal. "

"Now I know who you are. How often have I heard Sophie talking of you. Nancy loved you as well as her father. I heard that you had gone toRussia, and had fought a duel with a general in Poland. Is this true? HowI wish I could tell dear Sophie all this, but I may not entertain suchhopes now. "

"You have heard the truth about me; but what should prevent you writingwhat you like to England? I take a lively interest in you, trust in me, and I promise you that you shall communicate with whom you please. "

"I am vastly obliged to you. "

With these words she became silent, and I left her to her thoughts. 

At seven o'clock we arrived at St. Quirico, and the so-called Comte del'Etoile came out and welcomed his wife in the most loving fashion, kissing her before everybody, no doubt with the object of giving peopleto understand that she was his wife, and I her father. 

The girl responded to all his caresses, looking as if a load had beenlifted off her breast, and without a word of reproach she went upstairswith him, having apparently forgotten my existence. I set that down tolove, youth, and the forgetfulness natural to that early age. 

I went upstairs in my turn with my carpet bag, and supper was serveddirectly, as we had to start very early the next morning if we wished toreach Radicofani before the noonday heat. 

We had an excellent supper, as the count had preceded us by six hours, and the landlord had had plenty of time to make his preparations. TheEnglish girl seemed as much in love with de l'Etoile as he with her, andI was left completely out in the cold. I cannot describe the highspirits, the somewhat risky sallies, and the outrageous humours of theyoung gentleman; the girl laughed with all her heart, and I could nothelp laughing too. 

I considered that I was present at a kind of comedy, and not a gesture, not a word, not a laugh did I allow to escape me. 

"He may be merely a rich and feather-brained young officer, " I said tomyself, "who treats everything in this farcical manner. He won't be thefirst of the species I have seen. They are amusing, but frivolous, andsometimes dangerous, wearing their honour lightly, and too apt to carryit at the sword's point. "

On this hypothesis I was ill pleased with my position. I did not muchlike his manner towards myself; he seemed to be making a dupe of me, andbehaved all the while as if he were doing me an honour. 

On the supposition that the Englishwoman was his wife, his treatment ofmyself was certainly not warranted, and I was not the man to play zero. Icould not disguise the fact, however, that any onlooker would havepronounced me to be playing an inferior part. 

There were two beds in the room where we had our supper. When thechambermaid came to put on the sheets, I told her to give me anotherroom. The count politely begged me to sleep in the same room with them, and the lady remained neutral; but I did not much care for their company, and insisted on leaving them alone. 

I had my carpet bag taken to my room, wished them a good night and lockedmyself in. My friends had only one small trunk, whence I concluded thatthey had sent on their luggage by another way; but they did not even havethe trunk brought up to their room. I went to bed tranquilly, feelingmuch less interested about the lady than I had been on the journey. 

I was roused early in the morning, and made a hasty toilette. I couldhear my neighbours dressing, so I half opened my door, and wished themgood day without going into their room. 

In a quarter of an hour I heard the sound of a dispute in the court-yard, and on looking out, there were the Frenchman and the vetturino arguinghotly. The vetturino held the horse's bridle, and the pretended count didhis best to snatch it away from him. 

I guessed the bone of contention: the Frenchman had no money, and thevetturino asked in vain for his due. I knew that I should be drawn intothe dispute, and was making up my mind to do my duty without mercy, whenthe Count de l'Etoile came in and said, --

"This blockhead does not understand what I say to him; but as he may haveright on his side, I must ask you to give him two sequins. I will returnyou the money at Rome. By an odd chance I happen to have no money aboutme, but the fellow might trust me as he has got my trunk. However, hesays he must be paid, so will you kindly oblige me? You shall hear moreof me at Rome. "

Without waiting for me to reply, the rascal went out and ran down thestairs. The vetturino remained in the room. I put my head out of thewindow, and saw him leap on horseback and gallop away. 

I sat down on my bed, and turned the scene over in my mind, rubbing myhands gently. At last I went off into a mad roar of laughter; it struckme as so whimsical and original an adventure. 

"Laugh too, " said I to the lady, "laugh or I will never get up. "

"I agree with you that it's laughable enough, but I have not the spiritto laugh. "

"Well, sit down at all events. "

I gave the poor devil of a vetturino two sequins, telling him that Ishould like some coffee and to start in a quarter of an hour. 

I was grieved to see my companion's sadness. 

"I understand your grief, " said I, "but you must try to overcome it. Ihave only one favour to ask of you, and if you refuse to grant me that, Ishall be as sad as you, so we shall be rather a melancholy couple. "

"What can I do for you?"

"You can tell me on your word of honour whether that extraordinarycharacter is your husband, or only your lover. "

"I will tell you the simple truth; he is not my husband, but we are goingto be married at Rome. "

"I breathe again. He never shall be your husband, and so much the betterfor you. He has seduced you, and you love him, but you will soon get overthat. "

"Never, unless he deceives me. "

"He has deceived you already. I am sure he has told you that he is rich, that he is a man of rank, and that he will make you happy; and all thatis a lie. "

"How can you know all this?"

"Experience--experience is my great teacher. Your lover is a youngfeather-brain, a man of no worth. He might possibly marry you, but itwould be only to support himself by the sale of your charms. "

"He loves me; I am sure of it. "

"Yes, he loves you, but not with the love of a man of honour. Withoutknowing my name, or my character, or anything about me, he delivered youover to my tender mercies. A man of any delicacy would never abandon hisloved one thus. "

"He is not jealous. You know Frenchmen are not. "

"A man of honour is the same in France, and England, and Italy, and allthe world over. If he loved you, would he have left you penniless in thisfashion? What would you do, if I were inclined to play the brutal lover?You may speak freely. "

"I should defend myself. "

"Very good; then I should abandon you here, and what would you do then?You are pretty, you are a woman of sensibility, but many men would takebut little account of your virtue. Your lover has left you to me; for allhe knew I might be the vilest wretch; but as it is, cheer up, you havenothing to fear. 

"How can you think that adventurer loves you? He is a mere monster. I amsorry that what I say makes you weep, but it must be said. I even daretell you that I have taken a great liking to you; but you may feel quitesure that I shall not ask you to give me so much as a kiss, and I willnever abandon you. Before we get to Rome I shall convince you that thecount, as he calls himself, not only does not love you, but is a commonswindler as well as a deceiver. "

"You will convince me of that?"

"Yes, on my word of honour! Dry your eyes, and let us try to make thisday pass as pleasantly as yesterday. You cannot imagine how glad I feelthat chance has constituted me your protector. I want you to feel assuredof my friendship, and if you do not give me a little love in return, Iwill try and bear it patiently. "

The landlord came in and brought the bill for the count and his mistressas well as for myself. I had expected this, and paid it without a word, and without looking at the poor wandering sheep beside me. I recollectedthat too strong medicines kill, and do not cure, and I was afraid I hadsaid almost too much. 

I longed to know her history, and felt sure I should hear it before wereached Rome. We took some coffee and departed, and not a word passedbetween us till we got to the inn at La Scala, where we got down. 

The road from La Scala to Radicofani is steep and troublesome. Thevetturino would require an extra horse, and even then would have takenfour hours. I decided, therefore, to take two post horses, and not tobegin the journey till ten o'clock. 

"Would it not be better to go on now?" said the English girl; "it will bevery hot from ten till noon. "

"Yes, but the Comte de l'Ltoile, whom we should be sure to meet atRadicofani, would not like to see me. "

"Why not? I am sure he would. "

If I had told her my reason she would have wept anew, so in pity I sparedher. I saw that she was blinded by love, and could not see the truecharacter of her lover. It would be impossible to cure her by gentle andpersuasive argument; I must speak sharply, the wound must be subjected tothe actual cautery. But was virtue the cause of all this interest? Was itdevotion to a young and innocent girl that made me willing to undertakeso difficult and so delicate a task? Doubtless these motives went forsomething, but I will not attempt to strut in borrowed plumes, and mustfreely confess that if she had been ugly and stupid I should probablyhave left her to her fate. In short, selfishness was at the bottom of itall, so let us say no more about virtue. 

My true aim was to snatch this delicate morsel from another's hand that Imight enjoy it myself. I did not confess as much to myself, for I couldnever bear to calmly view my own failings, but afterwards I came to theconclusion that I acted a part throughout. Is selfishness, then, theuniversal motor of our actions? I am afraid it is. 

I made Betty (such was her name) take a country walk with me, and thescenery there is so beautiful that no poet nor painter could imagine amore delicious prospect. Betty spoke Tuscan with English idioms and anEnglish accent, but her voice was so silvery and clear that her Italianwas delightful to listen to. I longed to kiss her lips as they spoke sosweetly, but I respected her and restrained myself. 

We were walking along engaged in agreeable converse, when all at once weheard the church bells peal out. Betty said she had never seen a Catholicservice, and I was glad to give her that pleasure. It was the feast dayof some local saint, and Betty assisted at high mass with all propriety, imitating the gestures of the people, so that no one would have taken herfor a Protestant. After it was over, she said she thought the Catholicrite was much more adapted to the needs of loving souls than theAngelican. She was astonished at the southern beauty of the villagegirls, whom she pronounced to be much handsomer that the country lassesin England. She asked me the time, and I replied without thinking that Iwondered she had not got a watch. She blushed and said the count hadasked her to give it him to leave in pawn for the horse he hired. 

I was sorry for what I had said, for I had put Betty, who was incapableof a lie, to great pain. 

We started at ten o'clock with three horses, and as a cool wind wasblowing we had a pleasant drive, arriving at Radicofani at noon. 

The landlord, who was also the postmaster, asked if I would pay threepauls which the Frenchman had expended for his horse and himself, assuring the landlord that his friend would pay. 

For Betty's sake I said I would pay; but this was not all. 

"The gentleman, " added the man, "has beaten three of my postillions withhis naked sword. One of them was wounded in the face, and he has followedhis assailant, and will make him pay dearly for it. The reason of theassault was that they wanted to detain him till he had paid. "

"You were wrong to allow violence to be used; he does not look like athief, and you might have taken it for granted that I should pay. "

"You are mistaken; I was not obliged to take anything of the sort forgranted; I have been cheated in this sort many times before. Your dinneris ready if you want any. "

Poor Betty was in despair. She observed a distressed silence; and I triedto raise her spirits, and to make her eat a good dinner, and to taste theexcellent Muscat, of which the host had provided an enormous flask. 

All my efforts were in vain, so I called the vetturino to tell him that Iwanted to start directly after dinner. This order acted on Betty likemagic. 

"You mean to go as far as Centino, I suppose, " said the man. "We hadbetter wait there till the heat is over. "

"No, we must push on, as the lady's husband may be in need of help. Thewounded postillion has followed him; and as he speaks Italian veryimperfectly, there's no knowing what may happen to him. "

"Very good; we will go off. "

Betty looked at me with the utmost gratitude; and by way of proving it, she pretended to have a good appetite. She had noticed that this was acertain way of pleasing me. 

While we were at dinner I ordered up one of the beaten postillions, andheard his story. He was a frank rogue; he said he had received some blowswith the flat of the sword, but he boasted of having sent a stone afterthe Frenchman which must have made an impression on him. 

I gave him a Paul, and promised to make it a crown if he would go toCentino to bear witness against his comrade, and he immediately began tospeak up for the count, much to Betty's amusement. He said the man'swound in the face was a mere scratch, and that he had brought it onhimself, as he had no business to oppose a traveller as he had done. Byway of comfort he told us that the Frenchman had only been hit by two orthree stones. Betty did not find this very consoling, but I saw that theaffair was more comic than tragic, and would end in nothing. Thepostillion went off, and we followed him in half an hour. 

Betty was tranquil enough till we got there, and heard that the count hadgone on to Acquapendente with the two postillions at his heels; sheseemed quite vexed. I told her that all would be well; that the countknew how to defend himself; but she only answered me with a deep sigh. 

I suspected that she was afraid we should have to pass the nighttogether, and that I would demand some payment for all the trouble I hadtaken. 

"Would you like us to go on to Acquapendente?" I asked her. 

At this question her face beamed all over; she opened her arms, and Iembraced her. 

I called the vetturino, and told him. I wanted to go on to Acquapendenteimmediately. 

The fellow replied that his horses were in the stable, and that he wasnot going to put them in; but that I could have post horses if I liked. 

"Very good. Get me two horses immediately. "

It is my belief that, if I had liked, Betty would have given meeverything at that moment, for she let herself fall into my arms. Ipressed her tenderly and kissed her, and that was all She seemed gratefulfor my self-restraint. 

The horses were put in, and after I had paid the landlord for the supper, which he swore he had prepared for us, we started. 

We reached Acquapendente in three quarters of an hour, and we found themadcap count in high spirits. He embraced his Dulcinea with transports, and Betty seemed delighted to find him safe and sound. He told ustriumphantly that he had beaten the rascally postillions, and had wardedtheir stones off. 

"Where's the slashed postillion?" I asked. 

"He is drinking to my health with his comrade; they have both begged mypardon. "

"Yes, " said Betty, "this gentleman gave him a crown. "

"What a pity! You shouldn't have given them anything. "

Before supper the Comte de l'Etoile skewed us the bruises on his thighsand side; the rascal was a fine well-made fellow. However, Betty'sadoring airs irritated me, though I was consoled at the thought of theearnest I had received from her. 

Next day, the impudent fellow told me that he would order us a goodsupper at Viterbo, and that of course I would lend him a sequin to payfor his dinner at Montefiascone. So saying, he skewed me in an off-handway a bill of exchange on Rome for three thousand crowns. 

I did not trouble to read it, and gave him the sequin, though I felt sureI should never see it again. 

Betty now treated me quite confidentially, and I felt I might ask heralmost any questions. 

When we were at Montefiascone she said, --

"You see my lover is only without money by chance; he has a bill ofexchange for a large amount. "

"I believe it to be a forgery. "

"You are really too cruel. "

"Not at all; I only wish I were mistaken, but I am sure of the contrary. Twenty years ago I should have taken it for a good one, but now it'sanother thing, and if the bill is a good one, why did he not negotiate itat Sienna, Florence, or Leghorn?"

"It may be that he had not the time; he was in such a hurry to be gone. Ah! if you knew all!"

"I only want to know what you like to tell me, but I warn you again thatwhat I say is no vague suspicion but hard fact. "

"Then you persist in the idea that he does not love me. "

"Nay, he loves you, but in such a fashion as to deserve hatred inreturn. "

"How do you mean?"

"Would you not hate a man who loved you only to traffic in your charms?"

"I should be sorry for you to think that of him. "

"If you like, I will convince you of what I say this evening. "

"You will oblige me; but I must have some positive proof. It would be asore pain to me, but also a true service. "

"And when you are convinced, will you cease to love him?"

"Certainly; if you prove him to be dishonest, my love will vanish away. "

"You are mistaken; you will still love him, even when you have had proofpositive of his wickedness. He has evidently fascinated you in a deadlymanner, or you would see his character in its true light before this. "

"All this may be true; but do you give me your proofs, and leave to methe care of shewing that I despise him. "

"I will prove my assertions this evening; but tell me how long you haveknown him?"

"About a month; but we have only been together for five days. "

"And before that time you never accorded him any favours?"

"Not a single kiss. He was always under my windows, and I had reason tobelieve that he loved me fondly. "

"Oh, yes! he loves you, who would not? but his love is not that of a manof honour, but that of an impudent profligate. "

"But how can you suspect a man of whom you know nothing?"

"Would that I did not know him! I feel sure that not being able to visityou, he made you visit him, and then persuaded you to fly with him. "

"Yes, he did. He wrote me a letter, which I will shew you. He promises tomarry me at Rome. "

"And who is to answer for his constancy?"

"His love is my surety. "

"Do you fear pursuit?"

"No. "

"Did he take you from a father, a lover, or a brother?"

"From a lover, who will not be back at Leghorn for a week or ten days. "

"Where has he gone?"

"To London on business; I was under the charge of a woman whom hetrusted. "

"That's enough; I pity you, my poor Betty. Tell me if you love yourEnglishman, and if he is worthy of your love. "

"Alas! I loved him dearly till I saw this Frenchman, who made meunfaithful to a man I adored. He will be in despair at not finding mewhen he returns. "

"Is he rich?"

"Not very; he is a business man, and is comfortably off. "

"Is he young?"

"No. He is a man of your age, and a thoroughly kind and honest person. Hewas waiting for his consumptive wife to die to marry me. "

"Poor man! Have you presented him with a child?"

"No. I am sure God did not mean me for him, for the count has conqueredme completely. "

"Everyone whom love leads astray says the same thing. "

"Now you have heard everything, and I am glad I told you, for I am sureyou are my friend. "

"I will be a better friend to you, dear Betty, in the future than in thepast. You will need my services, and I promise not to abandon you. I loveyou, as I have said; but so long as you continue to love the Frenchman Ishall only ask you to consider me as your friend. "

"I accept your promise, and in return I promise not to hide anything fromyou. "

"Tell me why you have no luggage. "

"I escaped on horseback, but my trunk, which is full of linen and othereffects, will be at Rome two days after us. I sent it off the day beforemy escape, and the man who received it was sent by the count. "

"Then good-bye to your trunk!"

"Why, you foresee nothing but misfortune!"

"Well, dear Betty, I only wish my prophecies may not be accomplished. Although you escaped on horseback I think you should have brought a cloakand a carpet bag with some linen. "

"All that is in the small trunk; I shall have it taken into my roomtonight. "

We reached Viterbo at seven o'clock, and found the count very cheerful. 

In accordance with the plot I had laid against the count, I began byshewing myself demonstratively fond of Betty, envying the fortunatelover, praising his heroic behaviour in leaving her to me, and so forth. 

The silly fellow proceeded to back me up in my extravagant admiration. Heboasted that jealousy was utterly foreign to his character, andmaintained that the true lover would accustom himself to see his mistressinspire desires in other men. 

He proceeded to make a long dissertation on this theme, and I let him goon, for I was waiting till after supper to come to the conclusive point. 

During the meal I made him drink, and applauded his freedom from vulgarprejudices. At dessert he enlarged on the duty of reciprocity betweenlovers. 

"Thus, " he remarked, "Betty ought to procure me the enjoyment of Fanny, if she has reason to think I have taken a fancy to her; and per contra, as I adore Betty, if I found that she loved you I should procure her thepleasure of sleeping with you. "

Betty listened to all this nonsense in silent astonishment. 

"I confess, my dear count, " I replied, "that, theoretically speaking, your system strikes me as sublime, and calculated to bring about thereturn of the Golden Age; but I am afraid it would prove absurd inpractice. No doubt you are a man of courage, but I am sure you wouldnever let your mistress be enjoyed by another man. Here are twenty-fivesequins. I will wager that amount that you will not allow me to sleepwith your wife. "

"Ha! ha! You are mistaken in me, I assure you. I'll bet fifty sequinsthat I will remain in the room a calm spectator of your exploits. My dearBetty, we must punish this sceptic; go to bed with him. "

"You are joking. "

"Not at all; to bed with you, I shall love you all the more. "

"You must be crazy, I shall do nothing of the kind. "

The count took her in his arms, and caressing her in the tenderest mannerbegged her to do him this favour, not so much for the twenty-five Louis, as to convince me that he was above vulgar prejudices. His caressesbecame rather free, but Betty repulsed him gently though firmly, sayingthat she would never consent, and that he had already won the bet, whichwas the case; in fine the poor girl besought him to kill her rather thanoblige her to do a deed which she thought infamous. 

Her words, and the pathetic voice with which they were uttered, shouldhave shamed him, but they only put him into a furious rage. He repulsedher, calling her the vilest names, and finally telling her that she was ahypocrite, and he felt certain she had already granted me all a worthlessgirl could grant. 

Betty grew pale as death, and furious in my turn, I ran for my sword. Ishould probably have run him through, if the infamous scoundrel had notfled into the next room, where he locked himself in. 

I was in despair at seeing Betty's distress, of which I had been theinnocent cause, and I did my best to soothe her. 

She was in an alarming state. Her breath came with difficulty, her eyesseemed ready to start out of her head, her lips were bloodless andtrembling, and her teeth shut tight together. Everyone in the inn wasasleep. I could not call for help, and all I could do was to dash waterin her face, and speak soothing words. 

At last she fell asleep, and I remained beside her for more than twohours, attentive to her least movements, and hoping that she would awakestrengthened and refreshed. 

At day-break I heard l'Etoile going off, and I was glad of it. The peopleof the inn knocked at our door, and then Betty awoke. 

"Are you ready to go, my dear Betty?"

"I am much better, but I should so like a cup of tea. "

The Italians cannot make tea, so I took what she gave me, and went toprepare it myself. 

When I came back I found her inhaling the fresh morning air at thewindow. She seemed calm, and I hoped I had cured her. She drank a fewcups of tea (of which beverage the English are very fond), and soonregained her good looks. 

She heard some people in the room where we had supped, and asked me if Ihad taken up the purse which I had placed on the table. I had forgottenit completely. 

I found my purse and a piece of paper bearing the words, "bill ofexchange for three thousand crowns. " The impostor had taken it out of hispocket in making his bet, and had forgotten it. It was dated at Bordeaux, drawn on a wine merchant at Paris to l'Etoile's order. It was payable atsight, and was for six months. The whole thing was utterly irregular. 

I took it to Betty, who told me she knew nothing about bills, and beggedme to say nothing more about that infamous fellow. She then said, in avoice of which I can give no idea, --

"For pity's sake do not abandon a poor girl, more worthy of compassionthan blame!"

I promised her again to have all a father's care for her, and soon afterwe proceeded on our journey. 

The poor girl fell asleep, and I followed her example. We were awoke bythe vetturino who informed us, greatly to our astonishment, that we wereat Monterosi. We had slept for six hours, and had done eighteen miles. 

We had to stay at Monterosi till four o'clock, and we were glad of it, for we needed time for reflection. 

In the first place I asked about the wretched deceiver, and was told thathe had made a slight meal, paid for it, and said he was going to spendthe night at La Storta. 

We made a good dinner, and Betty plucking up a spirit said we mustconsider the case of her infamous betrayer, but for the last time. 

"Be a father to me, " said she; "do not advise but command; you may reckonon my obedience. I have no need to give you any further particulars, foryou have guessed all except the horror with which the thought of mybetrayer now inspires me. If it had not been for you, he would haveplunged me into an abyss of shame and misery. "

"Can you reckon on the Englishman forgiving you?"

"I think so. "

"Then we must go back to Leghorn. Are you strong enough to follow thiscounsel? I warn you that if you approve of it, it must be put intoexecution at once. Young, pretty, and virtuous as you are, you need notimagine that I shall allow you to go by yourself, or in the company ofstrangers. If you think I love you, and find me worthy of your esteem, that is sufficient regard for me. I will live with you like a father, ifyou are not in a position to give me marks of a more ardent affection. Besure I will keep faith with you, for I want to redeem your opinion ofmen, and to shew you that there are men as honourable as your seducer wasvile. "

Betty remained for a quarter of an hour in profound silence, her headresting on her elbows, and her eyes fixed on mine. She did not seemeither angry or astonished, but as far as I could judge was lost inthought. I was glad to see her reflective, for thus she would be able togive me a decided answer: At last she said:

"You need not think, my dear friend, that my silence proceeds fromirresolution. If my mind were not made up already I should despisemyself. I am wise enough at any rate to appreciate the wisdom of yourgenerous counsels. I thank Providence that I have fallen into the handsof such a man who will treat me as if I were his daughter. "

"Then we will go back to Leghorn, and start immediately. "

"My only doubt is how to manage my reconciliation with Sir B---- M----. Ihave no doubt he will pardon me eventually; but though he is tender andgood-hearted he is delicate where a point of honour is concerned, andSubject to sudden fits of violence. This is what I want to avoid; for hemight possibly kill me, and then I should be the cause of his ruin. "

"You must consider it on the way, and tell me any plans you may thinkof. "

"He is an intelligent man, and it would be hopeless to endeavour to dupehim by a lie. I must make a full confession in writing without hiding asingle circumstance; for if he thought he was being duped his fury wouldbe terrible. If you will write to him you must not say that you think meworthy of forgiveness; you must tell him the facts and leave him to judgefor himself. He will be convinced of my repentance when he reads theletter I shall bedew with my tears, but he must not know of mywhereabouts till he has promised to forgive me. He is a slave to his wordof honour, and we shall live together all our days without my everhearing of this slip. I am only sorry that I have behaved so foolishly. "

"You must not be offended if I ask you whether you have ever given himlike cause for complaint before. "

"Never. "

"What is his history?"

"He lived very unhappily with his first wife; and he was divorced fromhis second wife for sufficient reasons. Two years ago he came to ourschool with Nancy's father, and made my acquaintance. My father died, hiscreditors seized everything, and I had to leave the school, much toNancy's distress and that of the other pupils. At this period SirB---- M---- took charge of me, and gave me a sum which placed me beyond thereach of, want for the rest of my days. I was grateful, and begged him totake me with him when he told me he was leaving England. He wasastonished; and, like a man of honour, said he loved me too well toflatter himself that we could travel together without his entertainingmore ardent feelings for me than those of a father. He thought it out ofthe question for me to love him, save as a daughter. 

"This declaration, as you may imagine, paved the way for a fullagreement. "

"'However you love me, ' I said, 'I shall be well pleased, and if I can doanything for you I shall be all the happier. '

"He then gave me of his own free will a written promise to marry me onthe death of his wife. We started on our travels, and till my lateunhappy connection I never gave him the slightest cause for complaint. "

"Dry your eyes, dear Betty, he is sure to forgive you. I have friends atLeghorn, and no one shall find out that we have made acquaintance. I willput you in good hands, and I shall not leave the town till I hear you areback with Sir B---- M----. If he prove inexorable I promise never toabandon you, and to take you back to England if you like. "

"But how can you spare the time?"

"I will tell you the truth, my dear Betty. I have nothing particular todo at Rome, or anywhere else. London and Rome are alike to me. "

"How can I shew my gratitude to you?"

I summoned the vetturino, and told him we must return to Viterbo. Heobjected, but I convinced him with a couple of piastres, and by agreeingto use the post horses and to spare his own animals. 

We got to Viterbo by seven o'clock, and asked anxiously if no one hadfound a pocket-book which I pretended I had lost. I was told no suchthing had been found, so I ordered supper with calmness, althoughbewailing my loss. I told Betty that I acted in this sort to obviate anydifficulties which the vetturino might make about taking us back toSienna, as he might feel it his duty to place her in the hands of hersupposed husband. I had up the small trunk, and after we had forced thelock Betty took out her cloak and the few effects she had in it, and wethen inspected the adventurer's properties, most likely all he possessedin the world. A few tattered shirts, two or three pairs of mended silkstockings, a pair of breeches, a hare's foot, a pot of grease, and ascore of little books-plays or comic operas, and lastly a packet ofletters; such were the contents of the trunk. 

We proceeded to read the letters, and the first thing we noted was theaddress: "To M. L'Etoile, Actor, at Marseilles, Bordeaux, Bayonne, Montpellier, etc. "

I pitied Betty. She saw herself the dupe of a vile actor, and herindignation and shame were great. 

"We will read it all to-morrow, " said I; "to-day we have something elseto do. "

The poor girl seemed to breathe again. 

We got over our supper hastily, and then Betty begged me to leave heralone for a few moments for her to change her linen and go to bed. 

"If you like, " said I, "I will have a bed made up for me in the nextroom. "

"No, dear friend, ought I not to love your society? What would havebecome of me without you?"

I went out for a few minutes, and when I returned and came to her bedsideto wish her good night, she gave me such a warm embrace that I knew myhour was come. 

Reader, you must take the rest for granted. I was happy, and I had reasonto believe that Betty was happy also. 

In the morning, we had just fallen asleep, when the vettuyino knocked atthe door. 

I dressed myself hastily to see him. 

"Listen, " I said, "it is absolutely necessary for me to recover mypocket-book, and I hope to find it at Acquapendente. "

"Very good, sir, very good, " said the rogue, a true Italian, "pay me asif I had taken you to Rome, and a sequin a day for the future, and if youlike, I will take you to England on those terms. "

The vetturino was evidently what is called wide awake. I gave him hismoney, and we made a new agreement. At seven o'clock we stopped atMontefiascone to write to Sir B---- M----, she in English, and I inFrench. 

Betty had now an air of satisfaction and assurance which I foundcharming. She said she was full of hope, and seemed highly amused at thethought of the figure which the actor would cut when he arrived at Romeby himself. She hoped that we should come across the man in charge of hertrunk, and that we should have no difficulty in getting it back. 

"He might pursue us. "

"He dare not do so. "

"I expect not, but if he does I will give him a warm welcome. If he doesnot take himself off I will blow out his brains. "

Before I began my letter to Sir B---- M----. Betty again warned me toconceal nothing from him. 

"Not even the reward you gave me?"

"Oh, yes! That is a little secret between ourselves. "

In less than three hours the letters were composed and written. Betty wassatisfied with my letter; and her own, which she translated for mybenefit, was a perfect masterpiece of sensibility, which seemed to mecertain of success. 

I thought of posting from Sienna, to ensure her being in a place ofsafety before the arrival of her lover. 

The only thing that troubled me was the bill of exchange left behind byl'Etoile, for whether it were true or false, I felt bound to deal with itin some way, but I could not see how it was to be done. 

We set out again after dinner in spite of the heat, and arrived atAcquapendente in the evening and spent the night in the delights ofmutual love. 

As I was getting up in the morning I saw a carriage in front of the inn, just starting for Rome. I imagined that amidst the baggage Betty's trunkmight be discovered, and I told her to get up, and see if it were there. We went down, and Betty recognized the trunk she had confided to herseducer. 

We begged the vetturino to restore it to us, but he was inflexible; andas he was in the right we had to submit. The only thing he could do wasto have an embargo laid on the trunk at Rome, the said embargo to lastfor a month. A notary was called, and our claim properly drawn up. Thevetturino, who seemed an honest and intelligent fellow, assured us he hadreceived nothing else belonging to the Comte de l'Etoile, so we wereassured that the actor was a mere beggar on the lookout for pickings, andthat the rags in the small trunk were all his possessions. 

After this business had been dispatched Betty brightened up amazingly. 

"Heaven, " she exclaimed, "is arranging everything. My mistake will serveas a warning to me for the future, for the lesson has been a severe one, and might have been much worse if I had not had the good fortune ofmeeting you. "

"I congratulate you, " I replied, "on having cured yourself so quickly ofa passion that had deprived you of your reason. "

"Ah! a woman's reason is a fragile thing. I shudder when I think of themonster; but I verily believe that I should not have regained my sensesif he had not called me a hypocrite, and said that he was certain I hadalready granted you my favours. These infamous words opened my eyes, andmade me see my shame. I believe I would have helped you to pierce him tothe heart if the coward had not run away. But I am glad he did run away, not for his sake but for ours, for we should have been in an unpleasantposition if he had been killed. "

"You are right; he escaped my sword because he is destined for the rope. "

"Let him look to that himself, but I am sure he will never dare to shewhis face before you or me again. "

We reached Radicofani at ten o'clock, and proceeded to write postscriptsto our letters to Sir B---- M---- We were sitting at the same table, Bettyopposite to the door and I close to it, so that anyone coming in couldnot have seen me without turning round. 

Betty was dressed with all decency and neatness, but I had taken off mycoat on account of the suffocating heat. Nevertheless, though I was inshirt sleeves, I should not have been ashamed of my attire before themost respectable woman in Italy. 

All at once I heard a rapid step coming along the passage, and the doorwas dashed open. A furious-looking man came in, and, seeing Betty, criedout, --

"Ah! there you are. "

I did not give him time to turn round and see me, but leapt upon him andseized him by the shoulders. If I had not done so he would have shot medead on the spot. 

As I leapt upon him I had involuntarily closed the door, and as he cried, "Let me go, traitor!" Betty fell on her knees before him, exclaiming, "No, no! he is my preserver. "

Sir B---- M---- was too mad with rage to pay any attention to her, and kepton, ---

"Let me go, traitors!"

As may be imagined, I did not pay much attention to this request so longas the loaded pistol was in his hand. 

In our struggles he at last fell to the ground and I on top of him. Thelandlord and his people had heard the uproar, and were trying to get in;but as we had fallen against the door they could not do so. 

Betty had the presence of mind to snatch the pistol from his hand, and Ithen let him go, calmly observing, "Sir, you are labouring under a delusion. "

Again Betty threw herself on her knees, begging him to calm himself, as Iwas her preserver not her betrayer. 

"What do you mean by 'preserver'?" said B---- M----

Betty gave him the letter, saying, --

"Read that. "

The Englishman read the letter through without rising from the ground, and as I was certain of its effect I opened the door and told thelandlord to send his people away, and to get dinner for three, aseverything had been settled.