weariness of a journey, the constant monotony, that makes one do
something to make sure of one's existence; and when it comes to the
reckoning there is usually more joy than repentance.

But the story of my journey from Genoa to Marseilles was written in the
book of fate, and could not be read by me. All I knew was that I must
soon go as Madame d'Urfe was waiting for me at Marseilles. I knew not
that in this journey would be involved the fate of a Venetian girl of
whom I had never heard, who had never seen me, but whom I was destined to
render happy. My fate seemed to have made me stop at Genoa to wait for
her.

I settled my accounts with the banker, to whom I had been accredited, and
I took a letter of credit on Marseilles, where, however, I was not likely
to want for funds, as my high treasurer, Madame d'Urfe was there. I took
leave of Madame Isola-Bella and her circle that I might be able to devote
all my time to Rosalie and her friends.




CHAPTER II

Disgraceful Behaviour of My Brother, the Abbe, I Relieve Him of His
Mistress--Departure from Genoa--The Prince of Monaco--My Niece
Overcome--Our Arrival at Antibes

On the Tuesday in Holy Week I was just getting up, when Clairmont came to
tell me that a priest who would not give his name wanted to speak to me.
I went out in my night-cap, and the rascally priest rushed at me and