“‘You will smile at the determination which I took that very night—you will say that it was that of a schoolboy—a coward—but you cannot know the terror which pervaded the population of our country at that very period, on account of the subtlety of the Jesuits. It had become the bugbear of society. The feeling had been nursed by the secret enemies of the Order, sent from France, where its dissolution had already been decreed in the boudoirs of Trianon, by the vindictive hatred of Madame de Pompadour. I determined, then, to flee—to leave my property in the hands of the agent, and to travel for a while, until the power of the serpent which was thus gaining ground upon me was weakened, or that I felt myself strong enough to encounter its cold and slimy coils without fear. I passed several days in making my preparations for the journey I meant to take, and confided my intentions to no one on earth save the overseer of the estate in whose hands I was about to place my interests. Cesario was absent. I would not even venture to write to him until I had set forth, for my terror of betrayal had grown so puerile that I even feared the letter might be opened! “‘Everything was ready for my departure. The agent, a plain, honest man, had sworn to be as secret as the grave, and when, one evening, I took my leave of the eternal Giordoni, who now passed not a single day without paying me his lengthened visit, I laughed at his form of farewell. “_À demain, à demain!_” called he from the gate; “to-morrow we will talk about the road from your grounds to my chapel—there _must_ be a road, Cerutti—the high wall must come down. What need of walls between such friends as we?” “‘I laughed as I pressed his hand in feigned warmth, echoing his portentous words of adieu. I knew that on the morrow I should be far enough away. He smiled likewise as he exclaimed, once more looking me earnestly in the face, “Farewell, my friend, my dearest friend, _à demain donc, à demain_!” “‘He turned, and I watched his retreating form gradually fade in the moonlight, with a heart bounding with gratitude and joy at the prospect of my approaching deliverance. The horses were waiting on the by-road by the side of the château, and I could hear their joyous neigh from the gate where I was leaning to gaze after Giordoni. Everything seemed to breathe of peace and happiness. There was a nightingale perched among the branches of the mulberry tree beneath which I stood, and her joyous melody gushed forth unsubdued, more free and unconstrained methought when the shadow of Giordoni no longer darkened the pathway; multitudes of the bright green glow-worms peculiar to the summer nights of our country, were chasing each other over the smooth turf. I thought I had never beheld a night of such calm, such placid beauty.