“I determined to send off at once for Lescaut.  He advised me to go immediately to the lieutenant of police, and to give information also to the Grand Provost of Paris.  I went, but it was to add to my calamities only; for, independently of my visit producing not the smallest good effect, I, by my absence, allowed Lescaut time for discussion with his sister, during which he did not fail to inspire her with the most horrible resolutions.  He spoke to her about M. G——­ M——­, an old voluptuary, who paid prodigally for his pleasures; he so glowingly described the advantages of such a connection, that she entered into all his plans.  This discreditable arrangement was all concluded before my return, and the execution of it only postponed till the next morning, after Lescaut should have apprised G——­ M——.

“I found him, on my return, waiting for me at my house; but Manon had retired to her own apartment, and she had desired the footman to tell me that, having need of repose, she hoped she should not be disturbed that night.  Lescaut left me, after offering me a few crowns which I accepted.

“It was nearly four o’clock when I retired to bed; and having revolved in my mind various schemes for retrieving my fortunes, I fell asleep so late that I did not awake till between eleven and twelve o’clock.  I rose at once to enquire after Manon’s health; they told me that she had gone out an hour before with her brother, who had come for her in a hired carriage.  Although there appeared something mysterious in such a proceeding, I endeavoured to check my rising suspicions.  I allowed some hours to pass, during which I amused myself with reading.  At length, being unable any longer to stifle my uneasiness, I paced up and down the apartments.  A sealed letter upon Manon’s table at last caught my eye.  It was addressed to me, and in her handwriting.  I felt my blood freeze as I opened it; it was in these words: 

I protest to you, dearest chevalier, that you are the idol of my heart, and that you are the only being on earth whom I can truly love; but do you not see, my own poor dear chevalier, that in the situation to which we are now reduced, fidelity would be worse than madness?  Do you think tenderness possibly compatible with starvation?  For my part, hunger would be sure to drive me to some fatal end.  Heaving some day a sigh for love, I should find it was my last.  I adore you, rely upon that; but leave to me, for a short while, the management of our fortunes.  God help the man who falls into my hands.  My only wish is to render my chevalier rich and happy.  My brother will tell you about me; he can vouch for my grief in yielding to the necessity of parting from you.