think so, as the only excuse can be made for his offering this
insult:--but go, continued she, with that pride which is natural to
affronted virtue;--go, and convince him of his error;--and let me hear
no more of it.

It was in vain he assured her that his master was a person of the
highest honour, and that he was not unknown to her. All he could say had
not the least effect unless to enflame her more; when, after asking his
name, the fellow told her he was forbid to reveal it, but that he was
confident she would not deny having been acquainted with him when once
she saw him.

I shall neither own the one, cried she, nor consent to the other; then
bid him a second time be gone, with an air which shewed she was not to
be prevailed upon to listen to his arguments.

This man had no sooner left her than she fell into a deep study, from
which a sudden thought made her immediately start:--the count de
Bellfleur came into her head; and she was certain it could be no other
than that cruel persecutor of her virtue, that her ill fate had once
more thrown in her way.--As she knew very well, by what he had done,
that he was of a disposition to scruple nothing for the attainment of
his wishes, she trembled for the consequences of his discovering where
she was.--The only way she could think on to avoid the dangers she might
be exposed to on his account, was to draw up a petition to the prince of
Conti, acquainting him that she was the person who was near suffering so
much from the ill designs he had on her at Padua, when so generously
referred by monsieur du Plessis, and to entreat his highness's
protection against any attempts he might be safe enough to make.