The Fortunate Foundlings Part 19

On this I told him my name, which he immediately sent in; and her woman not long after came from her to let me know she would admit me. My lord went in with me; and to countenance what I said, I accosted her with the freedom of a person who had been acquainted when children, spoke of her father as of a gentleman who had favoured me with his good-will, tho', in reality, I had never seen him in my life, but remembered well enough what she had mentioned to me concerning him, and some others of her family, to talk as if I had been intimate among them. I could perceive she was very well pleased with the method I had taken of introducing myself; and, to prevent any suspicion that I had any other business with her than to pay my compliments, made my visit very short that day, not doubting but she would of herself contrive some means of entertaining me without witnesses, as she easily found her lord had desired I would make the castle my home while I stayed in that part of the country.

I was not deceived; the next morning having been told her lord was engaged with his steward, she sent for me, and making some pretence for getting rid of her woman, she plucked a paper from under her pillow, and putting it into my hand,--in that, said, you will find the secret I mentioned in my letter;--suspect not the veracity of it, I conjure you, nor love the unfortunate Horatio and Louisa less for their being mine.

I cannot express the confusion I was in, continued Dorilaus, at her mentioning you and your brother, but I had no opportunity of asking any questions:--her woman that instant returned, after which I stayed but a short time, being impatient to examine the contents, which, as near as I can remember, were to this purpose:

"You were scarce out of France before I discovered our amour had produced such consequences as, had my too fond pa.s.sion given me leave to think of, I never should have hazarded:--I will not repeat the distraction I was in;--you may easily judge of it:--I communicated the misfortune to my nurse, who you know I told you went from England with me, and has often brought you messages from the convent:--the faithful creature did her utmost to console me for an evil which was without a remedy:--to complete my confusion, my father commanded me home; my lord M----e was returned from his travels:--we were both of an age to marry; and it was resolved, by our parents, no longer to defer the completion of an affair long before agreed upon.--I was ready to lay violent hands on myself, since there seemed no way to conceal my shame; but my good nurse having set all her wits to work for me, found out an expedient which served me, when I could think of nothing for myself.--She bid me be of comfort; that she thought being sent for home was the luckiest thing that could have happened, since nothing could be so bad as to have my pregnancy discovered in the convent, as it infallibly must have been had I stayed a very little time longer: she also a.s.sured me she would contrive it so, as to keep the thing a secret from all the world.--I found afterwards she did not deceive me by vain promises.--We left Paris, according to my father's order, and came by easy journeys, befitting my condition, to Calais, and embarked on board the packet for Dover; but then, instead of taking coach for London, hired a chariot, and went cross the country to a little village, where a kinswoman of my nurse's lived.--With these people I remained till Horatio and Louisa came into the world:--I could have had them nursed at that place, but I feared some discovery thro' the miscarriage of letters, which often happens, and which could not have been avoided being sent on such occasions;--so we contrived together that my good confident and adviser should carry them to your house, and commit the care of them to you, who, equal with myself, had a right to it:--she found means, by bribing a man that worked under your gardener, to convey them where I afterwards heard you found and received them as I could wish, and becoming the generosity of your nature.--I then took coach for London, pretending, at my arrival, that I had been delayed by sickness, and to excuse my nurse's absence, said she had caught the fever of me;--so no farther enquiry was made, and I soon after was married to a man whose worth is well deserving of a better wife, tho' I have endeavoured to attone for my unknown transgression by every act of duty in my power:--nurse stayed long enough in your part of the world to be able to bring me an account how the children were disposed of.--That I never gave you an account they were your own, was occasioned by two reasons, first, the danger of entrusting such a thing by the post, my nurse soon after dying; and secondly, because, as I was a wife, I thought it unbecoming of me to remind you of a pa.s.sage I was willing to forget myself.--A long sickness has put other thoughts into my head, and inspired me with a tenderness for those unhappy babes, which the shame of being their mother hitherto deprived them of.--I hear, with pleasure, that you are not married, and are therefore at full liberty to make some provision for them, if they are yet living, that may alleviate the misfortune of their birth. Farewell; if I obtain this first and last request, I shall dye well satisfied."

"_P.S._ Burn this paper, I conjure you, the moment you have read it; but lay the contents of it up in your heart never to be forgotten."

I now no longer wondered, pursued Dorilaus, at that impulse I had to love you;--I found it the simpathy of nature, and adored the divine power.--After having well fixed in my mind all the particulars of this amazing secret, I performed her injunction, and committed it to the flames: I had opportunity enough to inform her in what manner Horatio had disposed of himself, and let her know you were gone with a lady on her travels: I concealed indeed the motive, fearing to give her any occasion of reproaching herself for having so long concealed what my ignorance of might have involved us all in guilt and ruin.

I stayed some few days at the castle, and then took my leave: she said many tender things at parting concerning you, and seemed well satisfied with the a.s.surances I gave her of making the same provision for you, as I must have done had the ceremony of the church obliged me to it. This seemed indeed the only thing for which she lived, and, I was informed, died in a few days after.

At my return to England I renewed my endeavours to discover where you were, but could hear nothing since you wrote from Aix-la-Chappelle, and was equally troubled that I had received no letters from your brother.--I doubted not but he had fallen in the battle, and mourned him as lost;--till an old servant perceiving the melancholy I was in, acquainted me that several letters had been left at my house by the post during my absence, but that the kinsman I had left to take care of my affairs had secreted them, jealous, no doubt, of the fondness I have expressed for him.--This so enraged me, when on examination I had too much reason to be a.s.sured of this treachery, that I turned my whole estate into ready money, and resolved to quit England for ever, and pa.s.s my life here, this being a country I always loved, and had many reasons to dislike my own.

Here I soon heard news of my Horatio, and such as filled me with a pleasure, which wanted nothing of being complete but the presence of my dear Louisa to partake of it.

Dorilaus then went on, and acquainted her with the particulars of Horatio's story, as he had learned it from the baron de Palfoy, with whom he now was very intimate; but as the reader is sufficiently informed of those transactions, it would be needless to repeat them; so I shall only say that Dorilaus arrived in France in a short time after Horatio had left it to enter into the service of the king of Sweden, and had wrote that letter, inserted in the eighteenth chapter, in order to engage that young warrior to return, some little time before his meeting with Louisa.

Nothing now was wanting to the contentment of this tender father but the presence of Horatio, which he was every day expecting, when, instead of himself, those letters from him arrived which contained his resolution of remaining with Charles XII. till the conquests he was in pursuit of should be accomplished.

This was some matter of affliction to Dorilaus, tho' in his heart he could not but approve those principles of honour which detained him.--Neither the baron de Palfoy, nor Charlotta herself, could say he could well have acted otherwise, and used their utmost endeavours to comfort a father in his anxieties for the safety of so valuable a son.

Louisa was also very much troubled at being disappointed in her hope of embracing a brother, whom she had ever dearly loved, and was now more precious to her than ever, by the proofs she had heard he had given of his courage and his virtue; but she had another secret and more poignant grief that preyed upon her soul, and could scarce receive any addition from ought beside:--she had been now near two months in Paris, yet could hear nothing of monsieur du Plessis, but that, by the death of his father, a large estate had devolved upon him, which he had never come to claim, or had been at Paris for about eighteen months, so that she had all the reason in the world to believe he was no more. This threw her into a melancholy, which was so much the more severe as she endeavoured to conceal it:--she made use of all her efforts to support the loss of a person she so much loved, and who proved himself so deserving of that love:--she represented to herself that being relieved from all the snares and miseries of an indigent life, raised from an obscurity which had given her many bitter pangs, to a station equal to her wishes, and under the care of the most indulgent and best of fathers, she ought not to repine, but bless the bounty of heaven, who had bestowed on her so many blessings, and with-held only one she could have asked.--These, I say, were the dictates of reason and religion; but the tender pa.s.sion was not always to be silenced by them, and whenever she was alone, the tears, in spight of herself, would flow, and she, without even knowing she did so, cry out, Oh du Plessis, wherefore do I live since thou art dead!

Among the many acquaintance she soon contracted at Paris, there was none she so much esteemed, both on the account of her own merit, and the regard she had for Horatio, as mademoiselle de Palfoy. In this young lady's society did she find more charms for her grief than in that of any other; and the other truly loving her, not only because she found nothing more worthy of being loved, but because she was the sister of Horatio, they were very seldom asunder.

Louisa was one day at the baron's, enjoying that satisfaction which the conversation of his beautiful daughter never failed to afford, when word was brought that madam, the countess d'Espargnes, was come to visit her.--Mademoiselle Charlotta ran to receive her with a great deal of joy, she being a lady she very much regarded, and who she had not seen of a long time.

She immediately returned, leading a lady in deep mourning, who seemed not to be above five-and-twenty, was extremely handsome, and had beside something in her air that attached Louisa at first sight. Mademoiselle Charlotta presented her to the countess, saying at the same time, see, madam, the only rival you have in my esteem.

You do well to give me one, replied the countess, who looks as if she would make me love her as well as you, and so I should be even with you.

With these words she opened her arms to embrace Louisa, who returned the compliment with equal politeness.

When they were seated, mademoiselle Charlotta began to express the pleasure she had in seeing her in Paris; on which the countess told her, that the affair she came upon was so disagreeable, that nothing but the happiness of enjoying her company, while she stayed, could attone for it. You know, my dear, continued madam d'Espargnes, I was always an enemy to any thing that had the face of business, yet am I now, against my will, involved in it by as odd an adventure as perhaps you ever heard.

Charlotta testifying some desire to be informed of what nature, the other immediately satisfied her curiosity in this manner:

You know, said she, that on the late death of my father, his estate devolved on my brother, an officer in those troops in Italy commanded by the prince of Conti:--some wounds, which were looked upon as extremely dangerous, obliged him, when the campaign was over, to continue in his winter quarters;--on which he sent to monsieur the count to take possession in his name; this was done; but an intricate affair relating to certain sums lodged in a person's hand, and to be brought before the parliament of Paris, could not be decided without the presence either of him or myself who had been witness of the transaction.--I was extremely loth to take so long a journey, being then in very ill health; and hearing he was recovered, delayed it, as we then expected him in person:--I sent a special messenger, however, in order to hasten his return;--but instead of complying with my desires, I received a letter from him, acquainting me that a business of more moment to him than any thing in my power to guess at, required his presence in another place, and insisted, by all the tenderness which had ever been between us, that I would take on myself the management of this affair:--to enable me the better to do it, he sent me a deed of trust to act as I should find it most expedient.

As he did not let me into the secret of what motives detained him at so critical a juncture, I was at first very much surprized; but on asking some questions of the messenger I had sent to him, I soon discovered what it was. He told me that on his arrival, he found my brother had left his quarters and was gone to Bolognia, on which he followed and overtook him there;--that he appeared in the utmost discontent, and was just preparing to proceed to Leghorn, but did not mention to him any more than he did in his letter to me, what inducement he had to this journey:--his servant, however, told him privately, that the mystery was this:--That being pa.s.sionately in love with a young English lady, whom he had placed in a monastery at Bolognia, and expected to find there at his return, she had in his absence departed, without having acquainted him with her design; and that supposing she was gone for England, and unable to live without her, his intention was to take s.h.i.+pping for that country, and make use of his utmost efforts to find her out.

I must confess, pursued the beautiful countess, this piece of quixotism very much veved me:--I thought his friends in France deserved more from him than to be neglected for one who fled from him, and who, as the man said, he knew not whether he should be able ever to see again. I resolved, however, to comply with his desires, and came immediately to Paris; but heaven has shewed him how little it approves his giving me this unnecessary trouble, for this morning I received a letter from him, that meeting with robbers in his way, they had taken from him all his money and bills of exchange, besides wounding him in several places, so that he cannot proceed on his journey till his hurts, which it seems are not dangerous, are cured, and he has fresh remittances from hence.

With what emotions the heart of Louisa was agitated during the latter part of this little narrative, a sensible reader may easily conceive: from the first mention of Bolognia, where there was no other English pensioner than herself, she knew it must be no other than her dear du Plessis who was in search for her abroad, while she was vainly hoping to find him at home:--every circ.u.mstance rendered this belief more certain; and surprize and joy worked so strongly in her, that fearing the effects would be visible, she rose up and withdrew to a window. Mademoiselle Charlotta, who knew she could not be capable of such an act of unpoliteness, without being compelled to it, asked if she were not well:--on which Louisa entreated pardon, but owned a sudden faintness had come over her spirits, so that she was obliged to be rude in order to prevent being troublesome.

As mademoiselle Charlotta knew nothing of her story, she had no farther thought about it than of some little qualm, which frequently happens when young ladies are too closely laced, and she seeming perfectly recovered from, the conversation was renewed on the same subject it had turned upon before this interruption; and the name of monsieur du Plessis being often mentioned, confirmed Louisa, if before she could have had the least remains of doubt, that it was her lover who, neglectful of his own affairs, and the remonstrances of his expecting friends, was about to range in search of one who, he imagined, was ungrateful both to his love and friends.h.i.+p.

After having listened, with the utmost attention, to all the countess said of him, and other matters becoming the topic of discourse, she took her leave, in order to reflect alone what she ought to do in this affair.

She debated not long within herself before she resolved to write to him, and prevent the unprofitable journey he was about to take; and having heard, by madam d' Espargnes, the name of the village where he was obliged to wait, both for the recovery of his wounds and for remittances for his expences, she wrote to him in the following terms:

_To monsieur_ DU PLESSIS.

"I should ill return the proofs I have received of your generous disinterested friends.h.i.+p, to delay one moment that I had it in my power, in endeavouring to convince you that it was a quite contrary motive than ingrat.i.tude to you, that carried me from Bolognia:--but the story is too long for the compa.s.s of a letter; when you know it, you will, perhaps, own this action, whatever you may now think of it, merits more, than any thing I could have done, your approbation:--this seeming riddle will be easily expounded, if, on the recovery of your wounds, you repair immediately to Paris, where you will find

_Your much obliged_,

LOUISA."

Having finished this little billet, a scruple rose in her head, that being now under the care of a father, she ought not to do any thing of this nature without his permission:--she had already told him how greatly she had been indebted to du Plessis for his honourable pa.s.sion, but had not mentioned the least t.i.ttle of the tender impressions it had made on her; and she so lately knew him to be her father, that she was ashamed to make him the confidant of an affair of this nature, but then, when she considered the quality of du Plessis, which she was now confirmed of, and the sense Dorilaus testified he had of his behaviour to her while he believed her so infinitely his inferior, made her resolve to drain her modesty so far as to inform him all.

She began by relating her accidental meeting with madam, the countess d'Espargnes and the conversation that pa.s.sed at mademoiselle de Palfoy's, and then, tho' not without immoderate blushes, shewed him what she had wrote, and beseeched him to let her know whether it would be consistent with a virgin's modesty, and also agreeable to his pleasure, that she gave this demonstration of her grat.i.tude for the favours she had received from this young gentleman.

Dorilaus was charmed with this proof of her duty and respect, and told her, that he was so far from disapproving what she had wrote, that had she omitted it, or said less than she did, he should have looked upon her as unworthy of so perfect a pa.s.sion as that which monsieur du Plessis on all occasions, testified for her:--that, in his opinion, she owed him more than she could ever pay; and that it should be his endeavour to shew he had not placed his affections on the daughter of one who knew not how to set a just value on merit such as his:--he made her also add a postscript to the letter, to give a direction in what part of Paris he might find her on his arrival; but Louisa would by no means give the least hint of the alteration in her circ.u.mstances, not that she wanted any farther proofs of his sincerity, but that she reserved the pleasure of so agreeable a surprize to their meeting. This letter was dispatched immediately, to the end he might receive it, at least, as soon as that from his sister with the expected remittances.

CHAP. XXV.

_Monsieur du Plessis arrives at Paris: his reception from Dorilaus and Louisa: the marriage of these lovers agreed upon_.

The innocent pleasure Louisa felt in picturing to herself the extacy which du Plessis would be in at the receipt of her letter, was not a flattering idea:--to know she was in Paris, where, in all probability, she had come to seek him, and to have the intelligence of it from herself, had all the effect on him that the most raptured fancy can invent.

His orders to madam d' Espargnes being punctually complied with, his bills of exchange also came soon after to hand; and the little hurts he had received from the robbers, as well as those of his mind, being perfectly healed, he set out with a lover's expedition, and arrived in Paris to the pleasing surprize of a sister who tenderly loved him, and expected not this satisfaction of a long time.

He took but one night's repose before he enquired concerning Dorilaus, and was told that he was a person of quality in England; but, on some disgust he had received in his native country, was come to settle in France. As Louisa was extremely admired, they told him also that he had a very beautiful daughter, of whom he was extremely fond. This last information gave not a little ease to the mind of him who heard it, and dissipated those apprehensions which the high character they gave of Dorilaus had, in spite of himself, excited in him: he now imagined that as they were English, his Louisa might possibly have been acquainted with the daughter of this gentleman in their own country, and meeting her at Paris, might have put herself under her protection.

Full of those impatiencies which are inseparable from a sincere pa.s.sion, he borrowed his sister's chariot, and went to the Fauxbourg St.

Germains; and being told one of the best houses in the place was that of Dorilaus, he asked for mademoiselle Louisa, on which he was desired to alight, and shewed into a handsome parlour while a servant went in to inform her: after this, he was ushered up stairs into a room, the furniture of which shewed the elegance of the owner's taste; but accustomed to every thing that was great and magnificent, the gilded scenes, the rich tapestry, the pictures, had no effect on him, till casting his eyes on one that hung over the chimney, he found the exact resemblance of the dear object never absent from his heart.--It was indeed the picture of Louisa, which her father, soon after her arrival, had caused to be drawn by one of the best painters at that time in Paris. This sight gave him a double pleasure, because it, in some measure, antic.i.p.ated that of the original, and also convinced him that she was not indifferent to the person she was with.

He was fixed in contemplation on this delightful copy, when the original appeared in all the advantages that jewels and rich dress could give her.--Tho' he loved her only for herself, and nothing could add to the sincere respect his heart had always paid her, yet to see her so different from what he expected, filled him with a surprize and a kind of enforced awe, which hindered him from giving that loose to his transports, which, after so long an absence, might have been very excusable;--and he could only say--my dear adorable Louisa, am I so blessed to see you once more!--She met his embrace half way, and replied, monsieur du Plessis, heaven has given me all I had to wish in restoring to me so faithful a friend;--but come, continued she, permit me to lead you to a father, who longs to embrace the protector of his daughter's innocence. Your father, madam! cried he; yes, answered she; in seeking a lover at Paris I found a father; Dorilaus is my father:--I have acquainted him with all the particulars of our story, and, I believe, the sincere affection I have for you will not be less pleasing for receiving his sanction to it.

With these words she took his hand and led him, all astonishment, into an inner room where Dorilaus was sitting, who rose to meet him with the greatest politeness, and which shewed that to be master of, it was not necessary to be born in France; and on Louisa's acquainting him with the name of the person she presented, embraced him with the tenderness of a father, and made him such obliging and affectionate compliments, as confirmed to the transported du Plessis the character had been given of him.

After the utmost testimonies of respect on both side, Dorilaus told his daughter she ought to make her excuses to monsieur for having eloped from the monastry where he had been so good to place her, which, said he, I think you can do in no better a manner than by telling the truth, and as I am already sufficiently acquainted with the whole, will leave you to relate it, while I dispatch a little business that at present calls me hence. He went out of the room in speaking this, and Louisa had a more full opportunity of informing her lover of all she had suffered since their parting, till this happy change in her fortune, than she could have had in the presence of her father, tho' no stranger to her most inmost thoughts on this occasion.

The pleasing story of her pilgrimage rehea.r.s.ed, how did the charmed du Plessis pity and applaud, by turns, her sufferings and fort.i.tude!--How exclaim against the treachery of the abbess, and those of the nuns who were in confederacy with her! But his curiosity satisfied in this point, another rose instantly in his mind, that being the daughter of such a person as Dorilaus, wherefore she had made so great a secret of it, and what reason had occasioned her being on the terms she was with Melanthe.

He no sooner expressed his wonder on these heads, than, having before her father's permission to do so, she resolved to leave him in no suspence on any score relating to her affairs.

Tho', said she blus.h.i.+ng, I cannot reveal the history of my birth without laying open the errors of those to whom I owe my being, yet I shall not think the sacrifice too great to recompence the obligations you have laid upon me; and then proceeded to acquaint him with every thing relating to her parents, as well as to herself, from the first moment she was found in the garden of Dorilaus.

It is not to be doubted but that he listened to the story with the utmost attention, in which he found such matters of admiration, that he could not forbear frequently interrupting her, by crying, Oh heaven! oh providence! how mysterious are thy ways!--How, in thy disposal of things, dost thou force us to acknowledge thy divine power and wisdom!

He was also extremely pleased to find she was the sister of Horatio, whom he had often been in company with both at the baron de la Valeire's and at St. Germains, and had admired for the many extraordinary qualities he discovered in him: this led them into a conversation concerning that young gentleman, and the misfortunes which some late news-paper gave an account were beginning to fall upon the king of Sweden; after that, renewing the subject of their mutual affection, and du Plessis running over the particulars of their acquaintance in Italy, Louisa asked whether the count de Bellfleur had ever testified any remorse for the injury he would have offered her, and in what manner they had lived together in the army? To which monsieur du Plessis replied, that the authority of the prince had prevented him from attempting any open acts of violence; but that by his manner of behaviour it was easy to see he had not forgiven the disappointment; and he verily believed wanted only a convenient opportunity to revenge it: but, continued he, whatever his designs were, heaven put a stop to the execution of them; for, in the first skirmish that happened between us and the forces of prince Eugene, this once gay, gallant courtier, had his head taken off by a cannon ball.