ing me that they managed
it at Geneva. Curiosity and wantonness made me escape with him; you know
the rest."

Thus did Marcoline amuse me during the evening, and then we went to bed
and slept quietly till the morning. We started from Valence at five, and
in the evening we were set down at the "Hotel du Parc" at Lyons.

As soon as I was settled in the pleasant apartments allotted to me I went
to Madame d'Urfe, who was staying in the Place Bellecour, and said, as
usual, that she was sure I was coming on that day. She wanted to know if
she had performed the ceremonies correctly, and Paralis, of course,
informed her that she had, whereat she was much flattered. The young
Aranda was with her, and after I had kissed him affectionately I told the
marchioness that I would be with her at ten o'clock the next morning, and
so I left her.

I kept the appointment and we spent the whole of the day in close
conference, asking of the oracle concerning her being brought to bed, how
she was to make her will, and how she should contrive to escape poverty
in her regenerated shape. The oracle told her that she must go to Paris
for her lying-in, and leave all her possessions to her son, who would not
be a bastard, as Paralis promised that as soon as I got to London an
English gentleman should be sent over to marry her. Finally, the oracle
ordered her to prepare to start in three days, and to take Aranda with
her. I had to take the latter to London and return him to his mother, for
his real position in life was no longer a mystery, the little rascal
having confessed all; however, I had found a remedy for his indiscretion
as for the treachery of the Corticelli and Possano.

I longed to return him to the keeping of his mother, who constantly wrote
me impertinent letters. I also wished to take my daughter, who, according
to her mother, had become a prodigy of grace and beauty.

After the oracular business had been settled, I returned to the "Hotel du
Parc" to dine with Marcoline. It was very late, and as I could not take
my sweetheart to the play I called on M. Bono to enquire whether he had
sent my brother to Paris. He told me that he had gone the day before, and
that my great enemy, Possano, was still in Lyons, and that I would do
well to be on my guard as far as he was concerned.

"I have seen him," said Bono; "he looks pale and undone, and seems
scarcely able to stand. 'I shall die before long,' said he, 'for that
scoundrel Casanova ha