My luck had made me win all the worthy canon’s money, which in turn I passed on to the family at the castle.  Clementine alone would not profit by my inattentive play, but the last two days I insisted on taking her into partnership, and as the canon’s bad luck still continued she profited to the extent of a hundred louis.  The worthy monk lost a thousand sequins, of which seven hundred remained in the family.  This was paying well for the hospitality I had received, and as it was at the expense of the monk, though a worthy one, the merit was all the greater.

The last night, which I spent entirely with the countess, was very sad; we must have died of grief if we had not taken refuge in the transports of love.  Never was night better spent.  Tears of grief and tears of love followed one another in rapid succession, and nine times did I offer up sacrifice on the altar of the god, who gave me fresh strength to replace that which was exhausted.  The sanctuary was full of blood and tears, but the desires of the priest and victim still cried for more.  We had at last to make an effort and part.  Eleanore had seized the opportunity of our sleeping for a few moments, and had softly risen and left us alone.  We felt grateful to her, and agreed that she must either be very insensitive or have suffered torments in listening to our voluptuous combats.  I left Clementine to her ablutions, of which she stood in great need, while I went to my room to make my toilette.

When we appeared at the breakfast, table we looked as if we had been on the rack, and Clementine’s eyes betrayed her feelings, but our grief was respected.  I could not be gay in my usual manner, but no one asked me the reason.  I promised to write to them, and come and see them again the following year.  I did write to them, but I left off doing so at London, because the misfortunes I experienced there made me lose all hope of seeing them again.  I never did see any of them again, but I have never forgotten Clementine.

Six years later, when I came back from Spain, I heard to my great delight that she was living happily with Count N——­, whom she had married three years after my departure.  She had two sons, the younger, who must now be twenty-seven, is in the Austrian army.  How delighted I should be to see him!  When I heard of Clementine’s happiness, it was, as I have said, on my return from Spain, and my fortunes were at a low ebb.  I went to see what I could do at Leghorn, and as I went through Lombardy I passed four miles from the estate where she and her husband resided, but I had not the courage to go and see her; perhaps I was right.  But I must return to the thread of my story.

I felt grateful to Eleanore for her kindness to us, and I had resolved to leave her some memorial of me.  I took her apart for a moment, and drawing a fine cameo, representing the god of Silence, off my finger, I placed it on hers, and then rejoined the company, without giving her an opportunity to thank me.