Clairmont brought the ticket for the diligence and I gave it to the abbe,
telling him roughly to be gone.

"But I may dine with you, surely?" said he.

"No, I have done with you. Go and dine with Possano, as you are his
accomplice in the horrible attempt he made to murder me. Clairmont, shew
this man out, and never let him set foot here again."

No doubt more than one of my readers will pronounce my treatment of the
abbe to have been barbarous; but putting aside the fact that I owe no man
an account of my thoughts, deeds, and words, nature had implanted in me a
strong dislike to this brother of mine, and his conduct as a man and a
priest, and, above all, his connivance with Possano, had made him so
hateful to me that I should have watched him being hanged with the utmost
indifference, not to say with the greatest pleasure. Let everyone have
his own principles and his own passions, and my favourite passion has
always been vengeance.

"What did you do with the girl he eloped with?" said my sister-in-raw.

"I sent her back to Venice with the ambassadors the better by thirty
thousand francs, some fine jewels, and a perfect outfit of clothes. She
travelled in a carriage I gave her which was worth more than two hundred
louis."

"That's all very fine, but you must make some allowance for the abbe's
grief and rage at seeing you sleep with her."