before making my confession; and I quite made up my mind that chance, or
rather my good genius, had led me to that spot, where happiness awaited
me, and where I might shelter all my days from the tempests of the world.

"Whether I stay here," said I, "depends on myself alone, as I am sure the
abbot will not refuse me the cowl if I give him ten thousand crowns for
my support."

All that was needed to secure my happiness seemed a library of my own
choosing, and I did not doubt but that the abbot would let me have what
books I pleased if I promised to leave them to the monastery after my
death.

As to the society of the monks, the discord, envy, and all the bickerings
inseparable from such a mode of life, I thought I had nothing to pass in
that way, since I had no ambitions which could rouse the jealousy of the
other monks. Nevertheless, despite my fascination, I foresaw the
possibility of repentance, and I shuddered at the thought, but I had a
cure for that also.

"When I ask for the habit," I said, "I will also ask that my novitiate be
extended for ten years, and if repentance do not come in ten years it
will not come at all. I shall declare that I do not wish for any cure or
any ecclesiastical dignity. All I want is peace and leave to follow my
own tastes, without scandalising anyone." I thought: I could easily
remove any objections which might be made to the long term of my
novitiate, by agreeing, in case I changed my mind, to forfeit the ten
thousand crowns which I would pay in advance.

I put down this fine idea in writing before I went to bed; and in the
morning, finding myself unshaken in my resolve, after I had communicated
I gave my plan to the abbot, who was taking chocolate in his room.

He immediately read my plan, and without saying anything put it on the
table, and after breakfast he walked up and down the room and read it
again, and finally told me that he would give me an answer after dinner.

I waited till night with the impatience of a child who has been promised
toys on its birthday--so completely and suddenly can an infatuation
change one's nature. We had as good a dinner as on the day before, and
when we had risen from the table the good abbot said,

"My carriage is at the door to take you to Zurich. Go, and let me have a
fortnight to think it over. I will bring my answer in person. In the
meanwhile here are two sealed letters, which please deliver yourself."

I replied that I would obey his