Shortly after he wrote that he had just discovered the dwelling of a very aged Italian woman, the former nurse of Chiappini’s son, who possessed a very precious medallion and alone could give me more valuable information than any I had yet got. He promised to bring her to Paris, provided I could enable him to give her a gratuity. To my shame I confess that again I was so foolishly simple as to send him 500 francs, begging him to manage to let me make her acquaintance as soon as possible.
Seven long weeks having passed with no word from him, I began to get impatient, when he took it into his head to send me the well-worn excuse of an unforeseen accident. This is his amusing note—
“Madam, I may truly say that I have come back from the other world. Some days after receiving your second letter—that is to say, in January last—I had set out for a place I wanted to find. I had hired a carriage for the journey. As the roads were very difficult on account of the ice and snow, the carriage was upset; it was a terrible disaster; I was carried away unconscious, and it was only after six weeks that I began to recover. During the lucid moments of my illness I wished very much to write to you, but I dared not confide in any one.
“For the last fortnight I have been much better. As this misfortune happened to me near Strasburg, I write to you from that town.
“My friends and relations must be very anxious about me, for I have not been able to write to them; besides, it would have alarmed them too much if they had known of my condition.
“I shall be in Paris in eight days.
“I am longing to see you and to relieve the terrible anxiety you must have been in at the total want of news.
“I have done all I could, and have much to tell you.
“Your humble and devoted servant,
“Saint-Aubin.”