s horrible discovery and
addition to my experience of life. I was full of restless anguish--the
worst, perhaps, of the torments of the mind. If the honest Englishman had
been the victim of a mystification, or rather knavery, my regard for
M---- M----'s honour compelled me to find a way to undeceive him without
compromising her; and such was my plan, and thus fortune favoured me.
Three or four days after, Mr. Murray told the doctor that he wished to
see me. We went to him, and he greeted me thus:

"I have won; for a hundred sequins I can have the fair nun!

"Alas!" said I, "there go my five hundred sequins."

"No, not five hundred, my dear fellow, for I should be ashamed to win so
much of you, but the hundred she would cost me. If I win, you shall pay
for my pleasure, and if I lose I shall give her nothing."

"How is the problem to be solved?" "My Mercury tells me that we must wait
for a day when masks are worn. He is endeavouring at present to find out
a way to convince both of us; for otherwise neither you nor I would feel
compelled to pay the wager, and if I really have M. M. my honour would
not allow me to let her suspect that I had betrayed the secret."

"No, that would be an unpardonable crime. Hear my plan, which will
satisfy us both; for after it has been carried out each of us will be
sure that he has fairly won or fairly lost.

"As soon as you have possessed yourself of the real or pretended nun,
leave her on some pretext, and meet me in a place to be agreed upon. We
will then go together to the convent, and I will ask for M. M.

"Will seeing her and speaking to her convince you that the woman you have
left at home is a mere impostor?"

"Perfectly, and I shall pay my wager with the greatest willingness."

"I may say the same. If, when I summon M. M. to the parlour, the
lay-sister tells us she is ill or busy, we will go, and the wager will be
yours; you will sup with the fair, and I will go elsewhere."

"So be it; but since all this will be at nighttime, it is possible that
when you ask for her, the sister will tell you that no one can be seen at
such an hour."

"Then I shall lose."

"You are quite sure, then, that if she be in the convent she will come
down?"

"That's my business. I repeat, if you don't speak to her, I shall hold
myself to have lost a hundred sequins, or a thousand if you like."

"One can't speak plainer than that, my dear fellow, and I thank you
beforehand."

"The only thing