“We must only,” he added, “keep up the mystery of his daughter’s place of refuge for the count, until we know for a certainty that he will forgive her, and that he will take her with him to C——­, or to any other place where he may wish to live hereafter.”

“He cannot refuse to forgive her,” I said, “when he finds that the amiable girl would never have left C——­ if her seducer had not given her this promise of marriage in his own handwriting.  She walked as far as the barge, and she landed at the very moment I was passing the Roman gate.  An inspiration from above told me to accost her and to invite her to follow me.  She obeyed, as if she was fulfilling the decree of Heaven, I took her to a refuge impossible to discover, and placed her under the care of a God-fearing woman.”

My three friends listened to me so attentively that they looked like three statues.  I advised them to invite the count to dinner for the day after next, because I needed some time to consult ’Paralis de modo tenendi’.  I then told M. Barbaro to let the count know in what sense he was to understand Steffani’s death.  He undertook to do it, and we retired to rest.

I slept only four or five hours, and, dressing myself quickly, hurried to my beloved mistress.  I told the widow not to serve the coffee until we called for it, because we wanted to remain quiet and undisturbed for some hours, having several important letters to write.

I found the lovely countess in bed, but awake, and her eyes beaming with happiness and contentment.  For a fortnight I had only seen her sad, melancholy, and thoughtful.  Her pleased countenance, which I naturally ascribed to my influence, filled me with joy.  We commenced as all happy lovers always do, and we were both unsparing of the mutual proofs of our love, tenderness, and gratitude.

After our delightful amorous sport, I told her the news, but love had so completely taken possession of her pure and sensitive soul, that what had been important was now only an accessory.  But the news of her seducer having turned a Capuchin friar filled her with amazement, and, passing very sensible remarks on the extraordinary event, she pitied Steffani.  When we can feel pity, we love no longer, but a feeling of pity succeeding love is the characteristic only of a great and generous mind.  She was much pleased with me for having informed my three friends of her being under my protection, and she left to my care all the necessary arrangements for obtaining a reconciliation with her father.

Now and then we recollected that the time of our separation was near at hand, our grief was bitter, but we contrived to forget it in the ecstacy of our amorous enjoyment.

“Ah! why can we not belong for ever to each other?” the charming girl would exclaim.  “It is not my acquaintance with Steffani, it is your loss which will seal my eternal misery.”

But it was necessary to bring our delightful interview to a close, for the hours were flying with fearful rapidity.  I left her happy, her eyes wet with tears of intense felicity.