ours, I want us to
be united by the most holy ties."

"I am the happiest of women! We have nothing to do in Rimini; suppose we
do not get up; we can have our dinner in bed, and go away to-morrow well
rested after our fatigues."

We left Rimini the next day, and stayed for breakfast at Pesaro. As we
were getting into the carriage to leave that place, an officer,
accompanied by two soldiers, presented himself, enquired for our names,
and demanded our passports. Bellino had one and gave it, but I looked in
vain for mine; I could not find it.

The officer, a corporal, orders the postillion to wait and goes to make
his report. Half an hour afterwards, he returns, gives Bellino his
passport, saying that he can continue his journey, but tells me that his
orders are to escort me to the commanding officer, and I follow him.

"What have you done with your passport?" enquires that officer.

"I have lost it."

"A passport is not so easily lost."

"Well, I have lost mine."

"You cannot proceed any further."

"I come from Rome, and I am going to Constantinople, bearing a letter
from Cardinal Acquaviva. Here is the letter stamped with his seal."

"All I can do for you is to send you to M. de Gages."

I found the famous general standing, surrounded by his staff. I told him
all I had already explained to the officer, and begged him to let me
continue my journey.

"The only favour I can grant you is to put you under arrest till you
receive another passport from Rome delivered under the same name as the
one you have given here. To lose a passport is a misfortune which befalls
only a thoughtless, giddy man, and the cardinal will for the future know
better than to put his confidence in a giddy fellow like you."

With these words, he gave orders to take me to the guard-house at St.
Mary's Gate, outside the city, as soon as I should have written to the
cardinal for a new passport. His orders were executed. I was brought back
to the inn, where I wrote my letter, and I sent it by express to his
eminence, entreating him to forward the document, without loss of time,
direct to the war office. Then I embraced Therese who was weeping, and,
telling her to go to Rimini and to wait there for my return, I made her
take one hundred sequins. She wished to remain in Pesaro, but I would not
hear of it; I had my trunk brought out, I saw Therese go away from the
inn, and was taken to the place appointed by the general.

It is undoubtedly und