itten down lies calculated to lead her astray at the
most important moment of her life. I was much pleased with the
marchioness's prudence, for it was important that she should have no
suspicions about the Undine, the sight and the touch of whom were
necessary to me in the great work I was about to undertake.

After dining, and discharging all the ceremonies and oracles which were
necessary to calm the soul of my poor victim, I went to a banker and got
a bill of a hundred louis on Lyons, to the order of M. Bono, and I
advised him of what I had done, requesting him to cash it for Possano if
it were presented on the day named thereon.

I then wrote the advice for Possano to take with him, it ran as follows:
"M. Bonno, pay to M. Possano, on sight, to himself, and not to order, the
sum of one hundred louis, if these presents are delivered to you on the
30th day of April, in the year 1763; and after the day aforesaid my order
to become null and void."

With this letter in my hand I went to the traitor who had been lanced an
hour before.

"You're an infamous traitor," I began, "but as Madame d'Urfe knows of the
disgraceful state you are in she would not so much as read your letter. I
have read it, and by way of reward I give you two alternatives which you
must decide on immediately. I am in a hurry. You will either go to the
hospital--for we can't have pestiferous fellows like you here--or start
for Lyons in an hour. You must not stop on the way, for I have only given
you sixty hours, which is ample to do forty posts in. As soon as you get
to Lyons present this to M. Bono, and he will give you a hundred louis.
This is a present from me, and afterwards I don't care what you do, as
you are no longer in my service. You can have the carriage I bought for
you at Antibes, and there is twenty-five louis for the journey: that is
all. Make your choice, but I warn you that if you go to the hospital I
shall only give you a month's wages, as I dismiss you from my service now
at this instant."

After a moment's reflection he said he would go to Lyons, though it would
be at the risk of his life, for he was very ill.

"You must reap the reward of your treachery," said I, "and if you die it
will be a good thing for your family, who will come in for what I have
given you, but not what I should have given you if you had been a
faithful servant."

I then left him and told Clairmont to pack up his trunk. I warned the
inn-keeper of his de