disturbed if we went, as their uncle lived in a
different part of the town.

"Oh, indeed!" said I, "he does not live with his highborn nieces, then?"

"No, he only comes to dinner to hear how business has been going, and to
take all the money from them."

"Come along," said Rigerboos, "we will go and see them."

As I was desirous of seeing and addressing the noble Venetian ladies of
so honourable a profession, I told Lucie to take us to the house. I knew
very well that the girls were impostors, and their gentleman-uncle a
blackguard; but the die was cast.

We found them to be young and pretty. Lucie introduced me as a Venetian,
and they were beside themselves with joy to have someone to whom they
could talk. I found out directly that they came from Padua, not Venice,
as they spoke the Paduan dialect, which I knew very well. I told them so,
and they confessed it was the truth. I asked the name of their uncle, but
they said they could not tell me.

"We can get on without knowing," said Rigerboos, catching hold of the one
he liked best. Lucie brought in some ham, oysters, a pie, and a good many
bottles of wine, and then left us.

I was not in the humour for wantonness, but Rigerboos was disposed to be
merry; his sweetheart was at first inclined to be prudish on his taking
liberties with her, but as I began to follow his example the ladies
relaxed their severity; we went first to one and then the other, and
before long they were both in the state of Eve before she used the
fig-leaf.

After passing an hour in these lascivious combats we gave each of the
girls four ducats, paid for the provisions we had consumed, and sent six
Louis to Lucie. We then left them, I going to bed cross with myself for
having engaged in such brutal pleasures.

Next morning I awoke late and in a bad humour, partly from the debauch of
the night before (for profligacy depresses as well as degrades the mind)
and partly from the thought that I had neglected Esther, who had
unquestionably been grieved by my absence. I felt that I must hasten to
reassure her, feeling certain that I should find some excuses to make,
and that they would be well received. I rang for Le Duc, put on my
dressing-gown, and sent him for my coffee. He had scarcely left the room
when the door opened and I saw Perine and the fellow named Wiedan, whom I
had seen at Piccolomini's, and who styled himself a friend of St.
Germain. I was sitting on my bed, putting on my stocking