I cannot express my astonishment, my distraction, on seeing my letters, and reading Madame de Volanges'.
Who is it can have betrayed us?
On whom do your suspicions fall?
Is it by any imprudent act of your own?
How do you employ your time?
What has been said to you?
I wish to know all, and am ignorant of every thing.
Perhaps you are in the same situation.
I enclose you your mamma's letter, with a copy of my answer to it.
I hope you will approve of what I wrote: and I want much to be satisfied whether you will approve of the steps I have taken since this fatal discovery, which all tend to hear from you, and to be able to write to you; and, who knows, perhaps to see you again with more freedom than ever.
I can't express the joy, my Cecilia, I conceive at the prospect of seeing you once more; renewing my vows of eternal love, and receiving yours.
Who would not bear torments to enjoy so much happiness!
I have this prospect in view; and the methods I mean to take, are what I beseech you to approve.
I am indebted for them to the anxiety of a worthy friend; and I only ask that you will permit my friend to be also yours.
But, perhaps, I ought not to have engaged your confidence without your consent; misfortunes and necessity must plead in my favour.
It is love led me on; it is love solicits your indulgence; implores you to forgive so necessary a confidence, without which we should be for ever separated (Mr. Danceny is wrong; for he had already made a confidant of Mons. de Valmont. See Letter the 57th).
You know the friend I mean; he is also the friend of the woman you love best—the Viscount Valmont.
My design was, to engage him first to prevail on Madame de Merteuil to deliver you a letter.
He was of opinion this scheme would not succeed; but he will answer for her waiting-maid, who lays under some obligations to him.
She will then deliver you this letter, and you may trust her with your answer.
This means will be of very little use, if, as Mr. de Valmont tells me, you are to set out immediately for the country: but in that case he will be our friend.
The lady, to whose house you are going, is his near relation.
He will make use of this pretence to go there at the same time that you do; and we can carry on our correspondence through him.
He even assures me, if you leave the management to him, he will provide us the means of seeing each other, without danger of a discovery.
Now, my dear Cecilia, if you love me, if you compassionate my misfortunes, if, as I hope, you partake my sorrows, you will not refuse your confidence to a man who will be our guardian angel.
Were it not for his assistance, I should be reduced even to despair of being able to soften the distresses I have caused you: I hope they will soon be at an end.
But, my dearest life, promise me not to give way to them; neither suffer yourself to be too much dejected.
The idea of your grief is an insupportable torment to me.
I would cheerfully die to make you happy; you know it well.
May the certainty of being adored, bring some small consolation to your soul.
Let me be assured you pardon the evils my love has made you suffer, for my consolation.
Adieu, my dear Cecilia!
Sept. 9, 17—. _____
LETTER LXVI.
The VISCOUNT DE VALMONT to the MARCHIONESS DE MERTEUIL. _____
When you have read the two enclosed letters, you will be able to judge, my charming friend, whether I have fulfilled your commission.
Although they are both dated to-day, they were wrote yesterday, at my house, and under my inspection; that to the girl is every thing we could wish.
I am humbled by the depth of your wisdom, if one may judge by the success of your proceedings.
Danceny is all on fire; and you may be certain, that at the first opportunity, you will have nothing to reproach him with.
If his fair one will be but tractable, every thing will terminate as we wish in a little time after her arrival in the country.
I am provided with sufficient schemes; thanks to your care. I am now decidedly Danceny's friend.
This same Danceny is yet very young.
Would you believe it? I have never yet been able to prevail on him to promise the mother to renounce his love; as if there was any difficulty in promising, when one is determined not to keep one's word.
It would be deceitful, says he incessantly. Is not this a most edifying scruple, especially when he is about seducing the daughter?
This is the true picture of mankind; all equally profligate in their projects: if any weakness happens in the execution, they call it probity.
It is now your business to hinder Madame de Volanges from being startled at what little indiscretions he may have let fall in his letter; keep us out of the convent; endeavour to make her relinquish her demand of the little one's letters: for he will not give them up, and I am of opinion he ought not: here love and sound sense agree.
I have read those letters; I could hardly bear it; however, they may hereafter be useful.
Notwithstanding all our discretion, something may blaze abroad, which might break off the marriage, and render abortive all our Gercourt schemes: but as I must be revenged of the mother, for my own satisfaction, in that case, I must reserve to myself the debauching of the daughter.
In selecting those letters, and only producing a part, the little Volanges would appear to have made the first advances, and have absolutely given herself up: and some of the letters might even entangle the mother, or, at least, make her appear guilty of an unpardonable negligence.
I readily conceive, that the scrupulous Danceny would at first be startled; but as he would be personally attacked, I believe he might be brought to.