Pont-Boivoisin, at nine o'clock, and after a bad supper everyone went to
bed to be ready to start at daybreak. Marcoline was to sleep with
Veneranda, so I accompanied her, and the worthy old woman went to bed
without any ceremony, lying so close to the wall that there was room for
two more; but after Marcoline had got into bed I sat down on a chair, and
placing my head beside hers on the pillow we mingled our sobs and tears
all night.

When Veneranda, who had slept soundly, awoke, she was much astonished to
see me still in the same position. She was a great devotee, but women's
piety easily gives place to pity, and she had moved to the furthest
extremity of the bed with the intention of giving me another night of
love. But my melancholy prevented my profiting by her kindness.

I had ordered a saddle horse to be ready for me in the morning. We took a
hasty cup of coffee and bade each other mutual farewells. I placed
Marcoline in the carriage, gave her a last embrace, and waited for the
crack of the postillion's whip to gallop back to Lyons. I tore along like
a madman, for I felt as if I should like to send the horse to the ground
and kill myself. But death never comes to him that desires it, save in
the fable of the worthy Lafontaine. In six hours I had accomplished the
eighteen leagues between Pont-Boivoisin and Lyons, only stopping to
change horses. I tore off my clothes and threw myself on the bed, where
thirty hours before I had enjoyed all the delights of love. I hoped that
the bliss I had lost would return to me in my dreams. However, I slept
profoundly, and did not wake till eight o'clock. I had been asleep about
nineteen hours.

I rang for Clairmont, and told him to bring up my breakfast, which I
devoured eagerly. When my stomach was restored in this manner I fell