“‘I was like the schoolboy about to escape the dominion of his pedagogue; eager to be free, yet scarcely as yet decided on the use that he would make of his long-coveted liberty. I had many plans in view, but none as yet decided. “‘I will go from hence to Lyons,’ said I to myself, as I returned with light step towards the house; ‘there will I remain for a while, to study the manners of the people of whom I have heard so much; then on—on to Paris; ’tis there and there alone “_qu’on trouve le génie si on n’en a pas_.” I could scarcely contain my feelings at the thought of the change which by my own address and discretion I was about to work in my destiny, and I whistled and sang aloud in glee at the bare thought of so much happiness. “‘No more slavery, no more espionnage, and—shall I own it, my friends?—no more fear of a cold and disdainful love! Yes, _there_ was the secret of the discontented misery of the last few months of my existence. From the evening of my first visit at the villa of Count V——, I had become the slave of the fair Signora Isabella. Her disdain of my advances, her coldness, had served to increase my passion, but had changed its character. Hope had given way to defiance, defiance to despair, yet still I loved, _and this was the reason why I wished to flee in secret_ from the home where I was born, like a thief or an usurper—this it was that drove me forth to seek elsewhere the liberty I felt that I had lost—the repose which I so greatly needed. All these subjects for the future passed rapidly through my mind as I returned up the avenue. I had just gained the hall, I was ascending the steps which led to my apartment, when I was startled by the sound of footsteps close behind me. I was alarmed: I knew that the domestics had been all dismissed, and had long before retired from that part of the building, while the agent had my orders to await me with the horses. I turned in trepidation, my heart fluttered in my bosom, and my cheek grew pale as marble—it was _Giordoni who followed me_! “‘Such was the state of abject fear in which I lived that, in the nervous agitation of the moment, I was about to confess my guilty design, and to sue for pardon; but there was neither anger nor suspicion upon the brow of the Jesuit, and it was with a calm and gracious smile that he spoke, as he held up before me a little billet which scented the air with the sweetest perfume. “‘See what a faithless messenger am I,’ said he, shaking his head with a _bonhomie_ quite paternal; ‘I was commissioned to deliver this letter with great dispatch, and had well-nigh forgotten it altogether! ’Twas well I thought of it before I got home, for I know not how I might have been received had I returned without the answer.’