of its contents.  Madame de Lamotte wrote that she found herself obliged to follow this nameless person to Lyons; and she begged me to send her news of her husband and of the state of his affairs, but said not one single word of any probable return.  I became very uneasy at the news of this clandestine departure.  I had no security except a private contract annulling our first agreement on the payment of one hundred thousand livres, and that this was not a sufficient and regular receipt I knew, because the lawyer had already refused to surrender Monsieur de Lamotte’s power of attorney.  I thought over all the difficulties which this flight, which would have to be kept secret, was likely to produce, and I started for Lyons without writing or giving any notice of my intention.  I had no information, I did not even know whether Madame de Lamotte was passing by another name, as at Versailles, but chance decreed that I met her the very day of my arrival.  She was alone, and complained bitterly of her fate, saying she had been compelled to follow this individual to Lyons, but that very soon she would be free and would return to Paris.  But I was struck by the uncertainty of her manner, and said I should not leave her without obtaining a deed in proof of our recent arrangements.  She refused at first, saying it was unnecessary, as she would so soon return; but I insisted strongly.  I told her I had already com promised myself by telling Monsieur de Lamotte that she was at Versailles, endeavouring to procure an appointment for her son; that since she had been compelled to come to Lyons, the same person might take her elsewhere, so that she might disappear any day, might leave France without leaving any trace, without any written acknowledgment of her own dishonour; and that when all these falsehoods were discovered, I should appear in the light of an accomplice.  I said also that, as she had unfortunately lodged in my house in Paris, and had requested me to remove her son from his school, explanations would be required from me, and perhaps I should be accused of this double disappearance.  Finally, I declared that if she did not give me some proofs of her existence, willingly or unwillingly, I would go at once to a magistrate.  My firmness made her reflect.  ‘My good Monsieur Derues,’ she said, ’I ask your forgiveness for all the trouble I have caused you.  I will give you this deed to-morrow, to-day it is too late; but come to this same place to-morrow, and you shall see me again.’  I hesitated, I confess, to let her go.  ‘Ah,’ she said, grasping my hands, ’do not suspect me of intending to deceive you!  I swear that I will meet you here at four o’clock.  It is enough that I have ruined myself, and perhaps my son, without also entangling you in my unhappy fate.  Yes, you are right; this deed is important, necessary for you, and you shall have it.  But do not show yourself here; if you were seen, I might not be able to do what I ought to do.  To-morrow