Convent Affairs | Page 7

and I went away as soon as
it was in the hands of the attendant, although she requested me to wait.
When I returned from Muran I did not see you, but that did not matter.
On the following day, one of my companions, who happened to be at
the gate of the convent when I delivered your letter, came early in the
morning to tell me to go to Muran, because the attendant wanted
particularly to speak to me. I went there, and after waiting for a few
minutes I was shewn into the parlour, where I was kept for more than
an hour by a nun as beautiful as the light of day, who asked me a
thousand questions for the purpose of ascertaining, if not who you are,
at least where I should be likely to find you. You know that I could not

give her any satisfactory information. She then left the parlour,
ordering me to wait, and at the end of two hours she came back with a
letter which she entrusted to my hands, telling me that, if I succeeded in
finding you out and in bringing her an answer, she would give me two
sequins. In the mean time I was to call at the convent every day, shew
her the letter, and receive forty sons every time. Until now I have
earned twenty crowns, but I am afraid the lady will get tired of it, and
you can make me earn two sequins by answering a line."
"Where is the letter?"
"In my room under lock and key, for I am always afraid of losing it."
"Then how can I answer?"
"If you will wait for me here, you shall have the letter in less than a
quarter of an hour."
"I will not wait, because I do not care about the letter. But tell me how
you could flatter the nun with the hope of finding me out? You are a
rogue, for it is not likely that she would have trusted you with the letter
if you had not promised her to find me."
"I am not a rogue, for I have done faithfully what you told me; but it is
true that I gave her a description of your coat, your buckles, and your
figure, and I can assure you that for the last ten days I have examined
all the masks who are about your size, but in vain. Now I recognize
your buckles, but I do not think you have the same coat. Alas, sir! it
will not cost you much to write only one line. Be kind enough to wait
for me in the coffee-house close by."
I could not resist my curiosity any longer, and I made up my mind not
to wait for him but to accompany him as far as his house. I had only to
write, "I have received the letter," and my curiosity was gratified and
the Forlanese earned his two sequins. I could afterwards change my
buckles and my mask, and thus set all enquiries at defiance.
I therefore followed him to his door; he went in and brought me the

letter. I took him to an inn, where I asked for a room with a good fire,
and I told my man to wait. I broke the seal of the parcel--a rather large
one, and the first papers that I saw were the two letters which I had sent
back to her in order to allay her anxiety as to the possible consequences
of her giddiness.
The sight of these letters caused me such a palpitation of the heart that I
was compelled to sit down: it was a most evident sign of my defeat.
Besides these two letters I found a third one signed "S." and addressed
to M---- M----. I read the following lines:
"The mask who accompanied me back to my house would not, I
believe, have uttered a single word, if I had not told him that the
charms of your witty mind were even more bewitching than those of
your person; and his answer was, 'I have seen the one, and I believe in
the other.' I added that I did not understand why you had not spoken to
him, and he said, with a smile, 'I refused to be presented to her, and she
punished me for it by not appearing to know that I was present.' These
few words were all our dialogue. I intended to send you this note this
morning, but found it impossible. Adieu."
After reading this note, which stated the exact truth, and which could
be considered as proof, my heart began to beat less quickly. Delighted
at seeing myself on the point of being convicted of injustice, I took