"Not so, dear heart; sleep peacefully, and be sure of my gratitude."

The reader will think that after this conversation my heart was perfectly
at rest; but how far was I from resting! I returned to Venice, tortured
lest I should be told in the evening at the door of the cathedral, where
we were to meet, that the nun had been obliged to put off her
appointment. If that had happened, I should not have exactly suspected
M---- M----, but the ambassador would have thought that I had caused the
scheme to miscarry. It is certain that in that case I should not have
taken my man to the parlour, but should have gone there sadly by myself.

I passed the whole day in these torments, thinking it would never come to
an end, and in the evening I put a letter in my pocket, and went to my
post at the hour agreed upon.

Fortunately, Murray kept the appointment exactly.

"Is the nun there?" said I, as soon as he was near me.

"Yes, my dear fellow. We will go, if you like, to the parlour; but you
will find that we shall be told she is ill or engaged. If you like, the
bet shall be off."

"God forbid, my dear fellow! I cling to that hundred ducats. Let us be
gone."

We presented ourselves at the wicket, and I asked for M---- M----, and the
doorkeeper made me breathe again by saying that I was expected. I entered
the parlour with my English friend, and saw that it was lighted by four