“In the morning,” I said, “I will tell Laura to get me something less seducing;” but the night brought counsel, and in the morning I put on the armour of sophism, telling myself that my weakness was no fault of the girl’s, and that it would therefore be unjust to punish her for it.  We shall see, dear reader, how all this ended.

CHAPTER XXIII

Continues the Preceding Chapter—­M.  M. Recovers—­I Return to
Venice—­Tonine Consoles Me—­Decrease of My Love For M. M.—­Doctor
Righelini—­Curious Conversation With Him—­How This Conversation Affected
M. M.—­Mr. Murray Undeceived and Avenged

Tontine had what is called tact and common sense, and thinking these qualities were required in our economy she behaved with great delicacy, not going to bed before receiving my letters, and never coming into my room except in a proper dress, and all this pleased me.  For a fortnight M——­ M——­ was so ill that I expected every moment to hear the news of her death.  On Shrove Tuesday C——­ C——­ wrote that her friend was not strong enough to read my letter, and that she was going to receive ’extreme unction’.  This news so shocked me that I could not rise, and passed the whole day in weeping and writing, Tonine not leaving me till midnight.  I could not sleep.  On Ash Wednesday I got a letter, in which C——­ C——­ told me that the doctor had no hopes for her friend, and that he only gave her a fortnight to live.  A low fever was wasting her away, her weakness was extreme, and she could scarcely swallow a little broth.  She had also the misfortune to be harassed by her confessor, who made her foretaste all the terrors of death.  I could only solace my grief by writing, and Tonine now and again made bold to observe that I was cherishing my grief, and that it would be the death of me.  I knew myself that I was making my anguish more poignant, and that keeping to my bed, continued writing, and no food, would finally drive me mad.  I had told my grief to poor Tonine, whose chief duty was to wipe away my tears.  She had compassion on me.

A few days later, after assuring C——­ C——­ that if our friend died I should not survive her, I asked her to tell M——­ M——­ that if she wanted me to take care of my life she must promise to let me carry her off on her recovery.

“I have,” I said, “four thousand sequins and her diamonds, which are worth six thousand; we should, therefore, have a sufficient sum to enable us to live honourably in any part of Europe.”

C——­ C——­ wrote to me on the following day, and said that my mistress, after hearing my letter read, had fallen into a kind of convulsion, and, becoming delirious, she talked incessantly in French for three whole hours in a fashion which would have made all the nuns take to their heels, if they had understood her.  I was in despair, and was nearly raving as wildly as my poor nun.  Her delirium lasted three days, and as soon as she got back her reason she charged her young friend to tell me that she was sure to get well if I promised to keep to my word, and to carry her off as soon as her health would allow.  I hastened to reply that if I lived she might be sure my promise would be fulfilled.