Having placed the property in a gondola, I went to the Bragadin Palace to deposit it, and then returned to Muran to get Laura to find me a furnished room where I could live as I liked.  “I know of a good room, with meals provided,” she said; “you will be quite comfortable and will get it cheaply, and if you like to pay in advance, you need not even say who you are.  The old man to whom the house belongs lives on the ground floor; he will give you all the keys and if you like you need see no one.”

She gave me the address, and I went there on the spot, and having found everything to my liking I paid a month in advance and the thing was done.  It was a little house at the end of a blind alley abutting on the canal.  I returned to Laura’s house to tell her that I wanted a servant to get my food and to make my bed, and she promised to get me one by the next day.

Having set all in order for my new lodging, I returned to Venice and packed my mails as if I were about to make a long journey.  After supper I took leave of M. de Bragadin and of his two friends, telling them that I was going to be away for several weeks on important business.

Next day, going to my new room, I was surprised to find there Tonine, Laura’s daughter, a pretty girl not more than fifteen years old, who told me with a blush, but with more spirit than I gave her credit for, that she would serve me as well as her mother would have done.

I was in too much distress to thank Laura for this pretty present, and I even determined that her daughter should not stay in my service.  We know how much such resolutions are commonly worth.  In the meanwhile I was kind to the girl:  “I am sure,” I said, “of your goodwill, but I must talk to your mother.  I must be alone,” I added, “as I have to write all day, and I shall not take anything till the evening.”  She then gave me a letter, begging pardon for not having given it me sooner.  “You must never forget to deliver messages,” I said, “for if you had waited any longer before bringing me this letter, it might have had the most serious consequences.”  She blushed, begged pardon, and went out of the room.  The letter was from C——­ C——­, who told me that her friend was in bed, and that the doctor had pronounced her illness to be fever.  I passed the rest of the day in putting my room in order, and in writing to C——­ C——­ and her suffering friend.

Towards evening Tonine brought in the candles, and told me that my supper was ready.  “Follow me,” I said.  Seeing that she had only laid supper for one—­a pleasing proof of her modesty, I told her to get another knife and fork, as I wished her always to take her meals with me.  I can give no account of my motives.  I only wished to be kind to her, and I did everything in good faith.  By and by, reader, we shall see whether this is not one of the devices by which the devil compasses his ends.

Not having any appetite, I ate little, but I thought everything good with the exception of the wine; but Tonine promised to get some better by the next day, and when supper was over she went to sleep in the ante-room.