ll; but now I
have nought to cheer me in my lonely pilgrimage, and nought to wish but
that it soon may come unto its close. I forgive you, Francois; but pity
me, for I deserve your pity."

"Once more, Marie, I intreat you to consent to my proposal."

"Never, Francois; I will not be less faithful to my God than I was to
you: he will not desert me; and if I suffer now, will reward me for it
hereafter." And Marie again quitted my apartment.

My situation in the nunnery now became insupportable, and I determined
to escape. I pleaded ill-health, and kept my bed. The physician of a
neighbouring convent, who had a great reputation, was sent for against
my wishes. When I heard of his arrival, I dressed to receive him for I
was fearful of some scrutiny. He inquired what ailed me: I answered
that I had no pain, but that I was convinced I should soon depart. He
felt my pulse, and, not being able to discover symptoms of disease, took
his leave.

To the elder sisters who visited me, I spoke in enigmas, and told them
that I had a summons, that they must expect soon to find me gone: and
the sanctity of my reputation made them receive my innuendoes as
inspired remarks. One night, I complained of being much worse, and
requested their early retiring: they would have sent for the physician,
but I forbad it, telling them I was beyond a physician's cure: kissing
them all, and pronouncing over them a solemn blessing, I dismissed them.
As soon as it was dark, I threw off my nun's attire, leaving it in my
bed, as if I had slipped out of it; and as the windows of my apartment,
which looked into the convent garden, were not barred, unclothed as I
was I dropped down, and reached the ground in safety. I took the
precaution, when I was outside, to shut the window, that my having
escaped should not enter their ideas, and climbing a tree which overhung
the wall of the garden, dropped from a bough on the other side, and
found myself at liberty. As I knew that the farther I was from the
nunnery, the less chance I had of being supposed an impostor, I gained
the high road, and ran as fast as I could in the direction from
Marseilles to Toulouse.

I had proceeded several miles without encountering any body at that
still hour of the night, occasionally alarmed at the barking of some
snarling cur, as I passed through the small villages in my route,--when,
worn out with fatigue and cold, I sat down under a hedge to screen
myself from the cold