nded by passion as to intend to marry this girl,
and that he had even bound himself by a written promise to that
effect, I solicited the King to have her placed in confinement. My
son, having got information of the steps I had taken, defeated
my intentions by escaping with the object of his passion. For
more than six months I have vainly endeavoured to discover where
he has concealed himself, but I have now some reason to think he
is at the Hague.' The Count earnestly conjured the Marquis to
make the most rigid search, in order to discover his son's retreat,
and to endeavour to prevail upon him to return to his home. 'It
is an act of justice,' continued he, 'to provide for the girl,
if she consents to give up the written promise of marriage which
she has received, and I leave it to your discretion to do what
is right for her, as well as to determine the sum necessary to
bring my son to Madrid in a manner suitable to his condition.
I know not,' concluded he, 'whether you are a father; if you
are, you will be able to sympathise in my anxieties.' The Count
subjoined to this letter an exact description of his son, and the
young woman by whom he was accompanied. On the receipt of this
letter, the Marquis lost not a moment in sending to all the inns
in Amsterdam, Rotterdam, and the Hague, but in vain--he could find
no trace of them. He began to despair of success, when the idea
struck him that a young French page of his, remarkable for his
quickness and intelligence, might be employed with advantage. He
promised to reward him handsomely if he succeeded in finding the
young woman, who was the cause of so much anxiety, and gave him
the description of her person. The page visited all the public
places for many days, without success; at length, one evening, at
the play, he saw a young man and woman, in a box, who attracted
his attention. When he saw that they perceived he was looking
at them, and withdrew to the back of the box to avoid his
observation, he felt confident that they were the objects of
his search. He did not take his eyes from the box, and watched
every movement in it. The instant the performance ended, he was
in the passage leading from the boxes to the door, and he remarked
that the young man, who, doubtless, observed the dress he wore,
tried to conceal himself, as he passed him, by putting his
handkerchief before his face. He followed him, at a distance,
to the inn called the _Vicomte de Turenne_, which he saw