Which,
joined to others of a different nature, rendered her condition
truly pitiable.
It was in the midst of these perplexing meditations that word was
brought her from Melanthe, that she must prepare for her departure on
the ensuing day. It was in vain she again begged leave to see her, and
to be made acquainted with the reason of her displeasure; but the other
would not be prevailed upon, but sent her a purse sufficient to defray
the expences of her journey to England, and bid her woman tell her she
had no occasion to repine, for she turned her away in a much better
condition than she had found her.
CHAP. XV.
Louisa is in danger of being ravished by the count de Bellfleur; is
providentially rescued by monsieur du Plessis, with several other
particulars.
Louisa packed up her things, as she had been commanded, tho' with what
confusion of mind is not easy to be expressed; and, when she was ready
to go, wrote a letter to Melanthe, thanking her for all the favours she
had received from her, acknowledging them to be as unmerited as her late
displeasure, which she conjured her to believe she had never, even in
thought, done any thing justly to incur; - wished her prosperity, and
that she might never find a person less faithful to her interests than
she had been. Having desired her woman to deliver this to her, she took
leave of the servants, who all loved her extremely, and saw her go with
tears in their eyes.
The rout she intended to take was to Padua by water, thence in a post
chaise to Leghorn, where she was informed, it would be easy to find a
ship bound for England; to what port was indifferent to her, being now
once more to seek her fortune, tho' in her native country, and must
trust wholly to that providence for her future support, which had
hitherto protected her.
Accordingly she took her passage to Padua in one of those boats, which
are continually going between Venice and that city; and it being near
the close of day when she landed, was obliged to go into an inn,
designing to lye there that night, and early in the morning set out
for Leghorn.
She was no sooner in bed than, having never been alone in one of those
places before, a thousand dreadful apprehensions came into her head: all
the stories she had been told, when a child, of robberies and murders
committed on travellers in inns, were now revived in her memory: - every
little noise she heard made her fall into tremblings; and the very
whistling of the wind, which at another time would have lulled her to
sleep, now kept her waking:
