Doctor Gozzi told us that the exorcist would come again on the morrow, and that he had promised to deliver Bettina within three hours if she were truly possessed of the demon, but that he made no promise if it should turn out to be a case of madness.  The mother exclaimed that he would surely deliver her, and she poured out her thanks to God for having allowed her the grace of beholding a saint before her death.

The following day Bettina was in a fine frenzy.  She began to utter the most extravagant speeches that a poet could imagine, and did not stop when the charming exorcist came into her room; he seemed to enjoy her foolish talk for a few minutes, after which, having armed himself ‘cap-a-pie’, he begged us to withdraw.  His order was obeyed instantly; we left the chamber, and the door remained open.  But what did it matter?  Who would have been bold enough to go in?

During three long hours we heard nothing; the stillness was unbroken.  At noon the monk called us in.  Bettina was there sad and very quiet while the exorcist packed up his things.  He took his departure, saying he had very good hopes of the case, and requesting that the doctor would send him news of the patient.  Bettina partook of dinner in her bed, got up for supper, and the next day behaved herself rationally; but the following circumstance strengthened my opinion that she had been neither insane nor possessed.

It was two days before the Purification of the Holy Virgin.  Doctor Gozzi was in the habit of giving us the sacrament in his own church, but he always sent us for our confession to the church of Saint-Augustin, in which the Jacobins of Padua officiated.  At the supper table, he told us to prepare ourselves for the next day, and his mother, addressing us, said:  “You ought, all of you, to confess to Father Mancia, so as to obtain absolution from that holy man.  I intend to go to him myself.”  Cordiani and the two Feltrini agreed to the proposal; I remained silent, but as the idea was unpleasant to me, I concealed the feeling, with a full determination to prevent the execution of the project.

I had entire confidence in the secrecy of confession, and I was incapable of making a false one, but knowing that I had a right to choose my confessor, I most certainly never would have been so simple as to confess to Father Mancia what had taken place between me and a girl, because he would have easily guessed that the girl could be no other but Bettina.  Besides, I was satisfied that Cordiani would confess everything to the monk, and I was deeply sorry.

Early the next morning, Bettina brought me a band for my neck, and gave me the following letter:  “Spurn me, but respect my honour and the shadow of peace to which I aspire.  No one from this house must confess to Father Mancia; you alone can prevent the execution of that project, and I need not suggest the way to succeed.  It will prove whether you have some friendship for me.”