I did not lose any time in leading up to the subject, and after I had given her a rapid sketch of the affair, how misfortune had obliged La Croix to abandon Mdlle.  Crosin, how I had been able to be of service to her, and finally, how she had had the good luck to meet a wealthy and distinguished person, who would come to Marseilles to ask her hand in a fortnight, I concluded by saying that I should have the happiness of restoring to her hands the dear girl whose preserver I had been.

“Where is she?” cried Madame Audibert.

“In my carriage.  I have lowered the blinds.”

“Bring her in, quick!  I will see to everything.  Nobody shall know that she is in my house.”

Happier than a prince, I made one bound to the carriage and, concealing her face with her cloak and hood, I led my niece to her friend’s arms.  This was a dramatic scene full of satisfaction for me.  Kisses were given and received, tears of happiness and repentance shed, I wept myself from mingled feelings of emotion, happiness, and regret.

In the meanwhile Clairmont had brought up my niece’s luggage, and I went away promising to return and see her another day.

I had another and as important an arrangement to conclude, I mean with respect to Marcoline.  I told the postillions to take me to the worthy old man’s where I had lodged Rosalie so pleasantly.  Marcoline was weeping at this separation from her friend.  I got down at the house, and made my bargain hastily.  My new mistress was, I said, to be lodged, fed, and attended on as if she had been a princess.  He shewed me the apartment she was to occupy; it was fit for a young marchioness, and he told me that she should be attended by his own niece, that she should not leave the house, and that nobody but myself should visit her.

Having made these arrangements I made the fair Venetian come in.  I gave her the money she had won, which I had converted into gold and made up to a thousand ducats.

“You won’t want it here,” said I, “so take care of it.  At Venice a thousand ducats will make you somebody.  Do not weep, dearest, my heart is with you, and to-morrow evening I will sup with you.”

The old man gave me the latch-key, and I went off to the “Treize Cantons.”  I was expected, and my rooms were adjacent to those occupied by Madame d’Urfe.

As soon as I was settled, Bourgnole waited on me, and told me her mistress was alone and expecting me impatiently.

I shall not trouble my readers with an account of our interview, as it was only composed of Madame d’Urfe’s mad flights of fancy, and of lies on my part which had not even the merit of probability.  A slave to my life of happy profligacy, I profited by her folly; she would have found someone else to deceive her, if I had not done so, for it was really she who deceived herself.  I naturally preferred to profit by her rather than that a stranger should do so; she was very rich, and I did myself a great deal of good, without doing anyone any harm.  The first thing she asked me was, “Where is Querilinthos?” And she jumped with joy when I told her that he was under the same roof.