power of attorney. I thought over all the difficulties which this
flight, which would have to be kept secret, was likely to produce, and I
started for Lyons without writing or giving any notice of my intention.
I had no information, I did not even know whether Madame de Lamotte was
passing by another name, as at Versailles, but chance decreed that I met
her the very day of my arrival. She was alone, and complained bitterly
of her fate, saying she had been compelled to follow this individual to
Lyons, but that very soon she would be free and would return to Paris.
But I was struck by the uncertainty of her manner, and said I should not
leave her without obtaining a deed in proof of our recent arrangements.
She refused at first, saying it was unnecessary, as she would so soon
return; but I insisted strongly. I told her I had already com promised
myself by telling Monsieur de Lamotte that she was at Versailles,
endeavouring to procure an appointment for her son; that since she had
been compelled to come to Lyons, the same person might take her
elsewhere, so that she might disappear any day, might leave France
without leaving any trace, without any written acknowledgment of her own
dishonour; and that when all these falsehoods were discovered, I should
appear in the light of an accomplice. I said also that, as she had
unfortunately lodged in my house in Paris, and had requested me to remove
her son from his school, explanations would be required from me, and
perhaps I should be accused of this double disappearance. Finally, I
declared that if she did not give me some proofs of her existence,
willingly or unwillingly, I would go at once to a magistrate. My
firmness made her reflect. 'My good Monsieur Derues,' she said, 'I ask
your forgiveness for all the trouble I have caused you. I will give you
this deed to-morrow, to-day it is too late; but come to this same place
to-morrow, and you shall see me again.' I hesitated, I confess, to let
her go. 'Ah,' she said, grasping my hands, 'do not suspect me of
intending to deceive you! I swear that I will meet you here at four
o'clock. It is enough that I have ruined myself, and perhaps my son,
without also entangling you in my unhappy fate. Yes, you are right; this
deed is important, necessary for you, and you shall have it. But do not
show yourself here; if you were seen, I might not be able to do what I
ought to do. To-morrow you shall see me again, I swear it.' She then
left me. The next day, the 12th, of March, I was exact at the rendezvous,
and Madame de Lamotte arrived a moment later. She gave me a deed,
authorising her husband to receive the arrears of thirty thousand livres
remaining from the purchase-money of Buisson-Souef. I endeavoured again
to express my opinion of her conduct; she listened in silence, as if my
words affected her deeply. We were walking together, when she told me
she had some business in a house we were passing, and asked me to wait
for her. I waited more than an hour, and then discovered that this
house, like many others in Lyons, had an exit in another street; and I
understood that Madame de Lamotte had escaped by this passage, and that I
might wait in vain. Concluding that trying to follow her would be
useless, and seeing also that any remonstrance would be made in vain, I
returned to Paris, deciding to say nothing as yet, and to conceal the
truth as long as possible. I still had hopes, and I did not count on
being so soon called on to defend myself: I thought that when I had to
speak, it would be as a friend, and not as an accused person. This, sir,
is the explanation of my conduct, and I regret that this justification,
so easy for myself, should be so cruelly painful for another. You have
seen the efforts which I made to defer it."
Monsieur de Lamotte had heard this second part of Derues' recital with a
more silent indignation, not that he admitted its probability, but he was
confounded by this monstrous imposture, and, as it were, terror-stricken