“I think I must see him,” I said, “but where?”

“Neither here nor at his residence, but in the ducal gardens.  Your answer must name only the place and the hour of the meeting.”

I wrote to M. d’Antoine that I would see him at half-past eleven in the ducal gardens, only requesting him to appoint another hour in case mine was not convenient to him.

I dressed myself at once in order to be in good time, and meanwhile we both endeavoured, Henriette and I, to keep a cheerful countenance, but we could not silence our sad forebodings.  I was exact to my appointment and found M. d’Antoine waiting for me.  As soon as we were together, he said to me,

“I have been compelled, sir, to beg from you the favour of an interview, because I could not imagine any surer way to get this letter to Madame d’Arci’s hands.  I entreat you to deliver it to her, and to excuse me if I give it you sealed.  Should I be mistaken, my letter will not even require an answer, but should I be right, Madame d’Arci alone can judge whether she ought to communicate it to you.  That is my reason for giving it to you sealed.  If you are truly her friend, the contents of that letter must be as interesting to you as to her.  May I hope, sir, that you will be good enough to deliver it to her?”

“Sir, on my honour I will do it.”

We bowed respectfully to each other, and parted company.  I hurried back to the hotel.

CHAPTER III

Henriette Receives the Visit of M. d’Antoine I Accompany Her as Far as
Geneva and Then I Lose Her—­I Cross the St. Bernard, and Return to
Parma—­A Letter from Hensiette—­My Despair De La Haye Becomes Attached to
Me—­Unpleasant Adventure with an Actress and Its Consequences—­I Turn a
Thorough Bigot—­Bavois—­I Mystify a Bragging Officer.

As soon as I had reached our apartment, my heart bursting with anxiety, I repeated to Henriette every word spoken by M. d’Antoine, and delivered his letter which contained four pages of writing.  She read it attentively with visible emotion, and then she said,

“Dearest friend, do not be offended, but the honour of two families does not allow of my imparting to you the contents of this letter.  I am compelled to receive M. d’Antoine, who represents himself as being one of my relatives.”

“Ah!” I exclaimed, “this is the beginning of the end!  What a dreadful thought!  I am near the end of a felicity which was too great to last!  Wretch that I have been!  Why did I tarry so long in Parma?  What fatal blindness!  Of all the cities in the whole world, except France, Parma was the only one I had to fear, and it is here that I have brought you, when I could have taken you anywhere else, for you had no will but mine!  I am all the more guilty that you never concealed your fears from me.  Why did I introduce that fatal Dubois here?  Ought I not to have guessed that his curiosity would sooner or later prove injurious to us?  And yet I cannot condemn that curiosity, for it is, alas! a natural feeling.  I can only accuse all the perfections which Heaven has bestowed upon you!—­perfections which have caused my happiness, and which will plunge me in an abyss of despair, for, alas!  I foresee a future of fearful misery.”