ing
entreaties, he obliged her to come to see us. As soon as she had looked
at us, she acted as the robbers had done; she relented at once and
admitted us.

No sooner had I alighted from the chaise, than she said, "Go shut
yourselves up in that chamber hard by, and do not stir, that my son may
not know you are here; as soon as he knows it he will kill you." She
said it with so much force, as did also the servant maid, that, if
death had not so many charms for me, I should have been ready to die
with fear. The two poor girls with me were under frightful
apprehensions. When any stirred, or came to open the door, they thought
they were coming to kill them. In short they continued in a dreadful
suspense, between life and death, till next day, when we learned that
the young man had sworn to kill any woman who lodged at the house. A
few days before, an event had fallen out, which had like to have ruined
him; a woman of a bad life having there privately murdered a man in
some esteem, that had cost the house a heavy fine; and he was afraid of
any more such persons coming, not without reason.

CHAPTER 18

After these adventures, and others which it would be tedious to recite,
I arrived at Verceil. I went to the inn, where I was badly received. I
sent for Father La Combe, who I thought had been already apprised of my
coming, by the ecclesiastic whom I had sent before, and who would be of
so much service to me. This ecclesiastic was only a little while
arrived. How much better on the road should I have fared, if I had him
with me! For in that country they look upon ladies, accompanied with
ecclesiastics, with veneration, as persons of honor and piety. Father
La Combe came in a strange fret at my arrival, God so permitting it. He
said that every one would think I was come after him, and that would
injure his reputation, which in that country was very high. I had no
less pain to go. It was necessity only which had obliged me to submit
to such a disagreeable task. The father received me with coolness, and
in such a manner as let me sufficiently see his sentiments, and indeed
redoubled my pain. I asked him if he required me to return, adding, if
he did, "I would go off that moment however oppressed and spent, both
with fatigues and fastings." He said that he did not know how the
Bishop of Verceil would take my arrival, after he had given over all
his expectations of it, and after I had so long, and so obstinately,
refused