I arrived in Parma in pretty good health, and took up my quarters at a small inn, in the hope that in such a place I should not meet any acquaintance of mine.  But I was much disappointed, for I found in that inn M. de la Haye, who had a room next to mine.  Surprised at seeing me, he paid me a long compliment, trying to make me speak, but I eluded his curiosity by telling him that I was tired, and that we would see each other again.

On the following day I called upon M. d’Antoine, and delivered the letter which Henriette had written to him.  He opened it in my presence, and finding another to my address enclosed in his, he handed it to me without reading it, although it was not sealed.  Thinking, however, that it might have been Henriette’s intention that he should read it because it was open, he asked my permission to do so, which I granted with pleasure as soon as I had myself perused it.  He handed it back to me after he had read it, telling me very feelingly that I could in everything rely upon him and upon his influence and credit.

Here is Henriette’s letter

“It is I, dearest and best friend, who have been compelled to abandon you, but do not let your grief be increased by any thought of my sorrow.  Let us be wise enough to suppose that we have had a happy dream, and not to complain of destiny, for never did so beautiful a dream last so long!  Let us be proud of the consciousness that for three months we gave one another the most perfect felicity.  Few human beings can boast of so much!  Let us swear never to forget one another, and to often remember the happy hours of our love, in order to renew them in our souls, which, although divided, will enjoy them as acutely as if our hearts were beating one against the other.  Do not make any enquiries about me, and if chance should let you know who I am, forget it for ever.  I feel certain that you will be glad to hear that I have arranged my affairs so well that I shall, for the remainder of my life, be as happy as I can possibly be without you, dear friend, by my side.  I do not know who you are, but I am certain that no one in the world knows you better than I do.  I shall not have another lover as long as I live, but I do not wish you to imitate me.  On the contrary I hope that you will love again, and I trust that a good fairy will bring along your path another Henriette.  Farewell . . . farewell.”

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I met that adorable woman fifteen years later; the reader will see where and how, when we come to that period of my life.

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I went back to my room, careless of the future, broken down by the deepest of sorrows, I locked myself in, and went to bed.  I felt so low in spirits that I was stunned.  Life was not a burden, but only because I did not give a thought to life.  In fact I was in a state of complete apathy, moral and physical.  Six years later I found myself in a similar predicament, but that time love was not the cause of my sorrow; it was the horrible and too famous prison of The Leads, in Venice.