Liege was so religious a town that
the event would produce a great sensation: the act might be looked upon
as a sacrilege, and might bring about a popular rising, during which the
marquise might possibly contrive to escape. So Desgrais paid a visit to
his wardrobe, and feeling that an abbe's dress would best free him from
suspicion, he appeared at the doors of the convent in the guise of a
fellow-countryman just returned from Rome, unwilling to pass through
Liege without presenting his compliments to the lovely and unfortunate
marquise. Desgrais had just the manner of the younger son of a great
house: he was as flattering as a courtier, as enterprising as a
musketeer. In this first visit he made himself attractive by his wit and
his audacity, so much so that more easily than he had dared to hope, he
got leave to pay a second call. The second visit was not long delayed:
Desgrais presented himself the very next day. Such eagerness was
flattering to the marquise, so Desgrais was received even better than
the night before. She, a woman of rank and fashion, for more than a year
had been robbed of all intercourse with people of a certain set, so
with Desgrais the marquise resumed her Parisian manner. Unhappily the
charming abbe was to leave Liege in a few days; and on that account he
became all the more pressing, and a third visit, to take place next
day, was formally arranged. Desgrais was punctual: the marquise was
impatiently waiting him; but by a conjunction of circumstances that
Desgrais had no doubt arranged beforehand, the amorous meeting was
disturbed two or three times just as they were getting more intimate
and least wanting to be observed. Desgrais complained of these tiresome
checks; besides, the marquise and he too would be compromised: he
owed concealment to his cloth: He begged her to grant him a rendezvous
outside the town, in some deserted walk, where there would be no fear
of their being recognised or followed: the marquise hesitated no longer
than would serve to put a price on the favour she was granting, and the
rendezvous was fixed for the same evening.

The evening came: both waited with the same impatience, but with very
different hopes. The marquise found Desgrais at the appointed spot: he
gave her his arm then holding her hand in his own, he gave a sign, the
archers appeared, the lover threw off his mask, Desgrais was confessed,
and the marquise was his prisoner. Desgrais left her in the hands of his