I spent the night on a narrow bench without a back, resting my head on my hands.

At seven o’clock the next morning Manucci came to see me; I looked upon him as my Providence.  I begged him to take me down to the guard-room, and give me some refreshment, for I felt quite exhausted.  My request was granted, and as I told my sufferings I had my hair done by a barber.

Manucci told me that my letters would be delivered in the course of the day, and observed, smilingly, that my epistle to the ambassador was rather severe.  I shewed him copies of the three others I had written, and the inexperienced young man told me that gentleness was the best way to obtain favours.  He did not know that there are circumstances in which a man’s pen must be dipped in gall.  He told me confidentially that the ambassador dined with Aranda that day, and would speak in my favour as a private individual, adding that he was afraid my letter would prejudice the proud Spaniard against me.

“All I ask of you,” said I, “is not to tell the ambassador that you have seen the letter I wrote to the Count of Aranda.”

He promised he would keep the secret.

An hour after his departure I saw Donna Ignazia and her father coming in, accompanied by the officer who had treated me with such consideration.  Their visit cut me to the quick; nevertheless, I felt grateful, for it shewed me the ’goodness of Don Diego’s heart and the love of the fair devotee.

I gave them to understand, in my bad Spanish, that I was grateful for the honour they had done me in visiting me in this dreadful situation.  Donna Ignazia did not speak, she only wept in silence; but Don Diego gave me clearly to understand that he would never have come to see me unless he had felt certain that my accusation was a mistake or an infamous calumny.  He told me he was sure I should be set free, and that proper satisfaction would be given me.

“I hope so,” I replied, “for I am perfectly innocent of any offence.”  I was greatly touched when the worthy man slipped into my hands a rouleau, telling me it contained twelve quadruples, which I could repay at my convenience.

It was more than a thousand francs, and my hair stood on end.  I pressed his hand warmly, and whispered to him that I had fifty in my pocket, which I was afraid to shew him, for fear the rascals around might rob me.  He put back his rouleau, and bade me farewell in tears, and I promised to come and see him as soon as I should be set at liberty.

He had not sent in his name, and as he was very well dressed he was taken for a man of importance.  Such characters are not altogether exceptional in heroic Spain; it is a land of extremes.

At noon Mengs’s servant came with a dinner that was choicer than before, but not so plentiful.  This was just what I liked.  He waited for me to finish, and went away with the plates, carrying my heartiest thanks to his master.