Yet, I had a positive indication, and I pursued my investigations. I might be more fortunate at the Library of St Sulpice Seminary. True, it is not open to the public; but then, the Sulpician Fathers are hospitable: did they not of yore afford a refuge to repentant Des Grieux, and did not Manon Lescaut herself tread the flags of their parlour? I therefore ventured into the holy House; it was half past twelve, dinner was nearly over; I asked for the librarian, and after a few minutes, I saw coming to me a short old man, unexceptionably civil, who, leading me through the common parlour, introduced me into another much narrower, a mere cell, looking into a gallery and glazed full breadth, being thus exposed to every eye. An ingenious provision of which Des Grieux’s escape had fully shown the urgency. I had no small trouble in explaining the object of my visit to the good Father, who was deaf and near sighted. He left me to go to the library, and soon returned, but empty handed: there also, in that sanctuary of Catholic Theology, Father Sinistrari of Ameno was entirely unknown. But one more expedient could I try: namely, to go to his brothers in St Francis, the Capuchin Fathers, in their convent of rue de la Santé! A cruel extremity, it will be granted, for I had but little chance of meeting there, as here, the lovely shadow of Manon. At last a letter from Milan put an end to my perplexity. The unfindable book was found; I received at the same time the first edition of _De Delictis et Pœnis_ (_Venetiis, apud Hieronymum Albricium, 1700_), and the edition of _Rome, 1754_. It was a complete treatise, _tractatus absolutissimus_, upon all imaginable crimes, offenses and sins; but, let us hasten to say, in both those voluminous folios, _Demoniality_ occupies scarcely five pages, without any difference in the text between the two editions. And those five pages are not even a summary of the manuscript work which I now give forth; they only contain the proposition and conclusion (N^{rs} 1 to 27 and 112 to 115). As for that wherein lies the originality of the book, to wit the theory of rational animals, Incubi and Succubi, endowed like ourselves with a body and soul, and capable of receiving salvation and damnation, it were vain to look for it. Thus, after so many endeavours, I had settled all the points which I had intended to elucidate: I had discovered the identity of the Father of Ameno[3]; from the comparison of the two editions of _De Delictis et Pœnis_, the first condemned, the second allowed by the Congregation of the _Index_, I had gathered that the printed fragments of _Demoniality_ had nothing to do with the condemnation of the book, since they had not been submitted to any correction; lastly, I had become convinced that, save a few pages, my manuscript was absolutely inedited. A happy event of a bibliographical Odyssey which I shall be excused for relating at length, for the “jollification” of bibliophiles “and none other”.