ans of His appointment to draw us out of the reproach and
persecution we labored under, seeing myself chased on the one side,
desired on the other. It was concluded that Father La Combe should
conduct me to Turin, and that he should go from thence to Verceil.

Beside him, I took with me a religious man of merit, who had taught
theology for fourteen years past, to take away from our enemies all
cause for slander. I also took with me a boy whom I had brought out of
France. They took horses, and I hired a carriage for my daughter, my
chambermaid and myself. But all precautions are useless, when it
pleases God to permit them to be frustrated. Our adversaries
immediately wrote to Paris. A hundred ridiculous stories were
circulated about this journey; comedies were acted on it, things
invented at pleasure, and as false as anything in the world could be.
It was my brother, Father de la Mothe, who was so active in uttering
all this stuff. Had he believed it to be true, he ought out of charity
to have concealed it; much more, being so very false. They said that I
was gone all alone with Father La Combe, strolling about the country,
from province to province, with many such fables, as weak and wicked as
they were incoherent and badly put together. We suffered all with
patience, without vindicating ourselves, or making any complaint.

Scarcely were we arrived at Turin, but the Bishop of Geneva wrote
against us. As he could pursue us no other way, he did it by letters.
Father La Combe repaired to Verceil, and I staid at Turin, with the
Marchioness of Prunai. But what crosses was I assaulted with in my own
family, from the Bishop of Geneva, from the Barnabites, and from a vast
number of persons besides! My eldest son came to find me on the death
of my mother-in-law, which was an augmentation of my troubles. After we
had heard all his accounts of things and how they had made sales of all
the moveables, chosen guardians, and settled every article, without
consulting me. I seemed to be there entirely useless. It was judged not
proper for me to return, considering the rigor of the season.

The Marchioness of Prunai, who had been so warmly desirous of my
company, seeing my great crosses and reproaches, looked coldly upon me.
My childlike simplicity, which was the state wherein God at that time
kept me, passed with her for stupidity. For when the question was to
help anyone, or about anything which God required of me, He gave me,
with t